My Birthday in Scotland

The following day was a very special day on our trip. It was my 23^rd birthday. Our yearly tradition of traveling during the off-season started when my mom and I went to Rome and Florence last year. We were in Florence for my 22^nd birthday, and I was having some very serious birthday blues. It was a combination of wanting to be 21 years old, feeling a lot older than some of my best friends in college, and an overwhelming fear of the future, post-college. 22 years old felt like an age when I should have some direction and plans for my future. At that point in my life, I had completely overhauled my life, changing everything except my major. I had the feeling that nothing would ever settle down, and even though I was happier than I had been in a long time, I was still aching for something to remain constant, and my age refused to comply. This year was quite different. I had taken that fear and general apathy about my life into my hands, and chucked it all to pursue my dream of travel. After traveling around Europe for five months, I had found a new career path, found an internship in an awesome city, and was more fulfilled than I have ever been up to this point. And to top it all off, I was in a beautiful wintry city with cozy cafes and the best scones I have ever eaten. This birthday I wanted to celebrate all the things that I was grateful for in my life.

A really unfortunate picture of me in front of The Elephant House

Unfortunately, I had to spend the morning at the German Consulate, dealing with visa issues. Now I am a dual-citizen of the United States and Ireland, but at the time I was worried about being re-admitted to Germany. The kind woman at the Consulate allayed my fears and assured me that I would be readmitted with another three-month tourist visa. Afterwards, the fun of the day could begin. We started with a tour of Edinburgh Castle, mostly to see the crown jewels of Scotland. I’m not really into big jewels, but I did enjoy the history behind the Scottish lineage of kings. We were right next to the cannon when it sounded for the one o’clock bell. It cracked me up to find out that the Scots fire the cannon at one o’clock because it is cheaper than fire twelve times at noon. So practical! We walked down to the Grassmarket to look for a bite to eat, but my mom was too squeamish to eat roasted pork cut straight from the pig in the window at Oink. We ended up at the Elephant House, of Harry Potter fame. We warmed ourselves with tea and Scottish shortbread cookies in the shape of an elephant.

One of my favorite parts of Edinburgh was all the winding staircases and secret roads that go all over the old part of town. I would like to know my way around this city, the shortcuts, and hidden cafes. It reminds me of the back hills of Berkeley, with secret staircases that lead to shady parks and garden paths. We took a quick spin through the National Gallery of Scotland. Robert Burns’s painting, Diana and the Nymphs really struck a chord with me.

(Photo from National Gallery of Scotland)

After our stroll through the art scene of Edinburgh, we did a little bookstore browsing. I had been itching to find something new to read, after Bill Bryson’s book on England was a major disappointment. I left it half-read in our hotel room in London. As a birthday present, my mom bought me a copy of “A Fraction of the Whole” by Steve Toltz. This book has been on my To Read list for some time, especially since I am a fan of books shortlisted for the Man-Booker Prize. They tend to be more creative and addictive than other modern literature. I got hooked with Zadie Smith’s “On Beauty” and have used the Man-Booker Prize wikipedia page as my latest resource for book recommendations. I don’t know how to day this other than drop whatever you are holding (unless it is your laptop), run out and buy a copy of “A Fraction of the Whole.” I have not ready anything this provocative and inventive in years. We went to dinner at the Spanish place again, but this time it did not wow me. The wine was still good, especially my celebratory glass of cava, and the honey ice cream that came with my dessert was a dream.

Of the things I miss from home, gourmet ice cream is high up on that list. I know that sounds peculiar, but try living in the Bay Area for four years and you will understand. I am already daydreaming of a trip to Sebastopol just for the Honey-Lavender ice cream at Screaming Mimi’s. I’d stop in Berkeley to pick up some old Czars and go on a NorCal adventure.