Whither Must I Wander


Walk This Way

Things are perking up over here in Glasgow. Which is good! I think. I have procured a place to live, a roommate that is Canadian (surprisingly enough) and my daily freakouts have been reduced to no more than 3. Improvements. That being said, let me take you on a tour through what I've seen of this new city I've decided to call home.
This is Park Circus, the ritzy neighborhood where the hostel I called home was located. Unfortunately I had to bounce from hostel to a gross hostel to a B&B as accomodations became scare during the bank holiday weekend. Sneakily (or creepily, take your pick) peering into some windows revealed some super fancy living quarters. The area is also above Kelvingrove Park, a huge park in the middle of the West End, sort of like Kensington but grittier, for those who know Calgary.

A view of Kelvingrove Park. The tower in the distance is part of the University of Glasgow.

This is Buchanan Street, the top part of the main shopping drag in Glasgow City Centre. I love this view. It's virtually jammed here on weekends and rush hour and pretty much any time ever. But it's bustling and fun and who doesn't love a zillion consumers crammed into a small space?

The Mitchell Library. The biggest reference library in Western Europe, right here in Glasgow. It's a sign, clearly.

Not terribly exciting, but this is the view from the window of my B&B. I thought it looked quintessentially British. Or Scottish.

The Glasgow Cathedral. I thought I'd do some touristy things, like visit the oldest cathedral in mainland Scotland. It was begun in the 13th century and finished in the 15th. Very cool, slightly creepy place. Let's go inside.

So this plaque was in the lower vestry (is that the right word???) of the cathedral as a commemoration to those who died in battle during the reformation. How awesome is that? Not that they died, obvioulsy, but you get my point. The historian in me is loving this place.

This is the Necropolis and view of the city from the Necropolis, respectively. It's an enormous Georgian graveyard built on a hill behind the cathedral. It was pouring rain, proper for being in a graveyard, and was quite impressive.

To happier places, such as the street where I live. I adore it here - such a good neighborhood and pretty, as well.

My tenement, from the outside. Glasgow is covered in these old tenement flats. I'm not sure exactly when they were built, I they're pretty old. The ceilings are usually 12 ft. high, roughly and pretty spacious. Such is the case with ours.

My room. This flat is huge.

Well, that concludes our walk through Glasgow, I hope you've enjoyed. I'll post more soon. Now I just need a job so I can stay here...


Week 2

Hey y'all. For some reason none of my internet connections have been letting me onto blogger, but today we've apparently had a breakthrough. Huzzah. So yes, here we are in Week 2. I'm still alive, am going to buy a new purse today because my other one is KILLING my shoulder and have eaten a lot of Hob Nobs. Things are better this week. Possibly because I'm no longer jet lagged. Jet lag does crazy things to me, like causes me to wander around cities, trying unsuccessfully to hold back tears, wondering what the hell I'm doing. But the lag is gone so things are better. I've resigned myself to the fact that I might have to live in the hostel for awhile (crap crap crap) but I have a little routine so I feel more in control. Funny the things we do.
As soon as I find an adaptor for my camera plug (one of many things I don't have) I can post some pictures. Until then, I'll tell you that things are green, it rains a lot, and old sandstone buildings are cool.


Inner City Pressure

I am here. I'm not sure why. Why did I want to do this? I can't remember. Maybe it's the jet lag, maybe the lack of hygeine, but I'm mildly freaking out. Hopefully tomorrow is better.
Could hardly understand my cab driver - it was awesome!


My Cubicle Without Me

An empty desk,
No Dwight Schrute statue
SNC, I'm laughing at you.

Or maybe just smirking.


Two Weeks Notice

Turns out the best thing about giving notice is the option to be mysterious. Due to the reason that certain people in my organization would make me a spectacle for their own gain, I've decided to keep my plans for Glasgow on the QT. My offical and truthful story is that I'm taking time off to re-evaluate my situation. I just happen to be doing it overseas. A number of people know, but I made a point of telling everyone to keep quiet about it. Now that the main perpetrators are on holiday, I'm a little more free about telling people. But it's really a delight to answer nosy-parkers with 'nowhere' when they ask where I'm going and noting their alarmed/jealous/disdainful reactions. But hopefully they don't take my response metaphorically...


21 Days Later...

Three weeks left. I try not to think about it too much while planning etc. because it fills me with a sort of paralyzing anxiety. And that's not fun. But if I do think about it, I try to think about happy things like the new wardrobe I plan to buy and the M&S sandwiches I plan to consume. Yes, consumerism is a safe topic to think about. However, then I start thinking about money and whether or not I'll find a job...see, there goes that pesky anxiety again. Deep breaths. Okay.


Rocky Mountain High

At the end of June, my sister, an oft-featured persona in this venue, demanded that we go hiking before she left for Montreal. When I say 'demanded' I am not exaggerating. I wish I was. The girl, if I have not made this clear, is a force to be reckoned with. And so our feet that had not touched mountain soil in far too long left Calgary and headed west for the super-popular Johnston Canyon hike. And hike we did.

Optimistic and unaware of the scads of tourists ahead.

Samantha commented at one point, "Have the trees always been this close together?

Perhaps my most favorite picture of myself ever.

The first leg of the hike up to the falls was gorgeous and lovely-chilly thanks to the water, but was overrun with elderly Europeans taking pictures of chipmunks. Do they not have chipmunks in Madrid or Le Havre or Dusseldorf? I mean, really. The Euros were amusing, though. Taking a break from the hike to perch on a rock and smoke. Only the Europeans.

Past the falls the trail turned much less structured and became what we'd come for: a hike. A bit tough at times but relatively easy, we hiked up the mountain then down into a valley that is home to 5 mountain spring pools called The Inkpots. I suppose the more romantic names were taken. No one else was in the valley. It was just about noon, it was sunny and breezy and practically perfect in every way. Truly, I could have stayed forever. Hunger and responsibility be damned.

An inkpot. Looks a bit like a fairy pool, whatever that is.

Down in the valley.