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scotland.
i tried to post this a couple weeks ago; it's kinda not right but if i don't post it now, it'd never get posted. Is ridiculously long and involved and I barely even expect Mum to finish reading it; stay tuned for Norway.
Glasgow
David and Lisa were kind enough to put me up on their justly famous sofabed. They needed to visit the hardware shop for rope and hooks almost as soon as I arrived, but the fact that I'm writing this in the past tense kinda strips the amusing tension off.
The weather was, well, Irish. I did once point out that a part of the pub we were in “would be lovely in summer” before remembering that in fact, it was summer. We also hiked out to a waterfall where I took photos and saw heather and David tried to fly a kite. Actually if you go far enough north the heather is still flowering in June.
I touristed around a bit, where touristing around also includes hunting for knitting and craft stores. But now I've forgotten all the museums I went to and can only remember the knitting shop: Knit 1 yarns, which although it has a terrible name, has lovely wool and more importantly a very cool owner. We had a whole convo about the effacicy of learning to knit off the internet, where you can find decent patterns, how evil Ryanair is with not letting knitting needles on board, and why all the knitting magazines are in imperial measurements. Then I spent 20 pounds on magazines to read on the bus, and she gave me a loyalty card in case I did after all get back to Glasgow.
I hope I do get back to Glasgow; I'd love to live there. (knitting shops AND fandom. And I think I said something about me being a city girl?) I don't think I can just now, unless any of you can lend me nearly 10 grand in aussie dollars, but I've got till March 2014 before I'm too old for a UK working holiday visa.
Knitting shop and family history tour of the Highlands:
I should point out that my Dad's side of the family came from Scotland; they left for Australia when gold was involved, about 1850ish. The family is variously described as originally from either Thurso or Armadale, and they then moved to Inverness before Tasmania.
Inverness is nice, but as towns described as “nice” often are, kinda boring. Got some pretty photos I'll upload shortly but meh. Couldn't find any McLeays, Camerons or Frasers in the graveyard, though according to the tartan shop the McLeays are also connected to the Livingstone clan, so hurrah for useless information. Went to Starbucks because I missed it and spent a fair bit too much money in the charity shops given my baggage limits back to Ireland. Even though it's (technically) summer there were fairly few people around. I don't know if the Highlands have a high season so much.
Beauly seemed half still going because of people doing their family trees, and the girl working in the tourist office was not fussed by questions like: where was the primary school one hundred years ago? Answer: right here, the same building that the tourist office is now in. Found, no 19th century McLeays, but instead some 20th century MacLeays. For some reason I was incredibly surprised by this, I hadn't even considered that there might be any 20th century McLeays in Scotland. Couldn't find the right Frasers, the only Frasers there were too early and not named Findlay (husband of Margaret McLeay, ca 1861). Took photos anyway on the off chance Aunt Eliz wanted them. Noticed two things in my scottish graveyard tour 2007: Eliz is a fairly common contraction of Elizabeth, at least I saw more than three of these and not one Liz. Also, wives seem to keep their surname. I did see one grave whose occupant was “Mrs MacGregor, midwife, and her sons Daniel and Lachlan;” others tended to list men, and then children, wives, children's wives, and so on. Obviously Mrs MacGregor's husband was foolish enough to die a fair way off from Beauly.
Thurso I was only in for one night and was irritated with myself that I'd spent so long in Inverness I now had made it all the way to Thurso but didn't have time to get to the Orkneys. The bus up to Thurso is an unfortunate place to find you still get carsick, when you're going down to London on the bus the next day. Dad's got plans to visit next year, but I'm going to suggest that a week is a very very long time to spend in Thurso. In terms of the family history hunt, I bought a map because I liked the typography and found there was a MacLeay street and MacLeay lane in Wick, about an hour south (and nowhere near each other!). Couldn't find much in the way of knitting shops or cemetaries but I did get a Josephine Tey book for the grand sum of 30 pence.
I'll admit that I wasn't expecting much from Edinburgh. Too many people had told me it was wonderful and I'd really liked Glasgow. How could I like both towns? Also, if you're going to be all Melbourne/Sydney about it, I'm not really a fan of Sydney.
But Edinburgh really is lovely! Sheets of rain were coming down the entire time I was there and I liked it even more. While I hadn't been clever enough to work out where the pound had been in 1860 or where any knitting shops open on the weekend were, I still had a lovely time being in a decent sized city. Turns out I totally am a city person and can't handle it too well when the concentration of bookshops drops below a certain point, even if there are interesting looking graveyards. The whole sheeting rain thing also helps, cause there's a ready made excuse for not hiking all the way up the royal mile and instead spending 30 pounds over two hours in Waterstones.
Had fun on the way down to London; the bus driver tried to tell me no handbaggage (cause of the security threat). I offered to put the shopping bag full of books underneath but luckily (cause it rained) he let me take it in. Apparently Stross novels and comic books aren't very dangerous. The heavy rain you may have heard of in the north of England managed to get both into the luggage compartment and also into the engine; we got to sit around at Schotts Corner for an hour and a half while another bus came to rescue us.
Had two days in London but was tired. I visited the V and A museum but mostly just sat around in cafes or parks. Found the “knit 1 cafe” which had some of the nicest yarn i'd ever seen. Also, I want a copy of Victorian Lace Today. And then I flew to Norway.
Glasgow
David and Lisa were kind enough to put me up on their justly famous sofabed. They needed to visit the hardware shop for rope and hooks almost as soon as I arrived, but the fact that I'm writing this in the past tense kinda strips the amusing tension off.
The weather was, well, Irish. I did once point out that a part of the pub we were in “would be lovely in summer” before remembering that in fact, it was summer. We also hiked out to a waterfall where I took photos and saw heather and David tried to fly a kite. Actually if you go far enough north the heather is still flowering in June.
I touristed around a bit, where touristing around also includes hunting for knitting and craft stores. But now I've forgotten all the museums I went to and can only remember the knitting shop: Knit 1 yarns, which although it has a terrible name, has lovely wool and more importantly a very cool owner. We had a whole convo about the effacicy of learning to knit off the internet, where you can find decent patterns, how evil Ryanair is with not letting knitting needles on board, and why all the knitting magazines are in imperial measurements. Then I spent 20 pounds on magazines to read on the bus, and she gave me a loyalty card in case I did after all get back to Glasgow.
I hope I do get back to Glasgow; I'd love to live there. (knitting shops AND fandom. And I think I said something about me being a city girl?) I don't think I can just now, unless any of you can lend me nearly 10 grand in aussie dollars, but I've got till March 2014 before I'm too old for a UK working holiday visa.
Knitting shop and family history tour of the Highlands:
I should point out that my Dad's side of the family came from Scotland; they left for Australia when gold was involved, about 1850ish. The family is variously described as originally from either Thurso or Armadale, and they then moved to Inverness before Tasmania.
Inverness is nice, but as towns described as “nice” often are, kinda boring. Got some pretty photos I'll upload shortly but meh. Couldn't find any McLeays, Camerons or Frasers in the graveyard, though according to the tartan shop the McLeays are also connected to the Livingstone clan, so hurrah for useless information. Went to Starbucks because I missed it and spent a fair bit too much money in the charity shops given my baggage limits back to Ireland. Even though it's (technically) summer there were fairly few people around. I don't know if the Highlands have a high season so much.
Beauly seemed half still going because of people doing their family trees, and the girl working in the tourist office was not fussed by questions like: where was the primary school one hundred years ago? Answer: right here, the same building that the tourist office is now in. Found, no 19th century McLeays, but instead some 20th century MacLeays. For some reason I was incredibly surprised by this, I hadn't even considered that there might be any 20th century McLeays in Scotland. Couldn't find the right Frasers, the only Frasers there were too early and not named Findlay (husband of Margaret McLeay, ca 1861). Took photos anyway on the off chance Aunt Eliz wanted them. Noticed two things in my scottish graveyard tour 2007: Eliz is a fairly common contraction of Elizabeth, at least I saw more than three of these and not one Liz. Also, wives seem to keep their surname. I did see one grave whose occupant was “Mrs MacGregor, midwife, and her sons Daniel and Lachlan;” others tended to list men, and then children, wives, children's wives, and so on. Obviously Mrs MacGregor's husband was foolish enough to die a fair way off from Beauly.
Thurso I was only in for one night and was irritated with myself that I'd spent so long in Inverness I now had made it all the way to Thurso but didn't have time to get to the Orkneys. The bus up to Thurso is an unfortunate place to find you still get carsick, when you're going down to London on the bus the next day. Dad's got plans to visit next year, but I'm going to suggest that a week is a very very long time to spend in Thurso. In terms of the family history hunt, I bought a map because I liked the typography and found there was a MacLeay street and MacLeay lane in Wick, about an hour south (and nowhere near each other!). Couldn't find much in the way of knitting shops or cemetaries but I did get a Josephine Tey book for the grand sum of 30 pence.
I'll admit that I wasn't expecting much from Edinburgh. Too many people had told me it was wonderful and I'd really liked Glasgow. How could I like both towns? Also, if you're going to be all Melbourne/Sydney about it, I'm not really a fan of Sydney.
But Edinburgh really is lovely! Sheets of rain were coming down the entire time I was there and I liked it even more. While I hadn't been clever enough to work out where the pound had been in 1860 or where any knitting shops open on the weekend were, I still had a lovely time being in a decent sized city. Turns out I totally am a city person and can't handle it too well when the concentration of bookshops drops below a certain point, even if there are interesting looking graveyards. The whole sheeting rain thing also helps, cause there's a ready made excuse for not hiking all the way up the royal mile and instead spending 30 pounds over two hours in Waterstones.
Had fun on the way down to London; the bus driver tried to tell me no handbaggage (cause of the security threat). I offered to put the shopping bag full of books underneath but luckily (cause it rained) he let me take it in. Apparently Stross novels and comic books aren't very dangerous. The heavy rain you may have heard of in the north of England managed to get both into the luggage compartment and also into the engine; we got to sit around at Schotts Corner for an hour and a half while another bus came to rescue us.
Had two days in London but was tired. I visited the V and A museum but mostly just sat around in cafes or parks. Found the “knit 1 cafe” which had some of the nicest yarn i'd ever seen. Also, I want a copy of Victorian Lace Today. And then I flew to Norway.