In the Land of Kilts and Haggis

Oh right, I have a blog. Oops!

So today is my 18th day in Scotland (whoa) and it's been a blast! There have been major ups and downs - literally and figuratively! I had some huge mountains to climb, both in the land of my ancestors and in the land of Claire-Needs-To-Find-A-Place-To-Live-Or-She'll-Be-Sleeping-In-A-Random-Lecture-Hall. Thankfully, I conquered both of those mountain ranges. It was not without the occasional tear and scream of anger, but there were also moments of smiles and literal bursts of joyous laughter (more on the outdoor adventure side). If you've never climbed a mountain, gotten to the top, and been so fricken happy you laughed out loud...
I don't know, I can't really criticize everyone's life, every person has different values. But I find those moments some of the most important in my life, and certainly in this little pilgrimage of mine.

I have seen some of the most beautiful sights in this country, some of these views can be found in this little album here.

Here's a quick page from the Great Big Book of Scottish Colloquialisms:

path noun 1. The smaller of two rivers; take the path that turns up and curves to the right. 2. A swamp; the path runs between two mountains.

This is the most accurate way than I can explain hiking in Scotland to you without dumping a bucket of water into your sock drawer. My tips for future travelers would be...

1. STAY ON THE PATH no just kidding it's a fricken river.
2. KEEP OFF THE PATH no don't cause it's literally a lake.
3. Just buy Gaters.

I am a cheap little crab-cake so I only alternated between points one and two. I've politely asked the family of minnows to leave my shoes but my gosh they are not accommodating at all. Oh well.

On a more cultural note, I am so thankful for the years of training in Scottish accents I received being in a pipe band and being raised by a Scottish-culture-embracing mother. I have frequently been the translator between a local Scot and some poor foreigner whose ear is not tuned to the particular nuances of their slurred, guttural growl.
I am exaggerating, but I serisouly have had to translate a couple times.

Joking aside, it's been a sort of spiritual experience being in Scotland. As I said before, I was raised pretty darn Scottish; I play the Celtic harp, I Highland dance, and I was practically raised with the help of my mom's pipe band. Though I complain frequently about the sacks of wind - as every side drummer does - I have an unavoidable habbit of running towards the sound of bagpipes rather than away. When you're raised in something that's not very common in your country you tend to gravitate towards it, seeking a connection to that large piece of your life.
It's hard to explain, but I would maybe relate it to seeing someone wearing the t-shirt of your favorite band. Only imagine that band was played at least twice a week when you were a kid and literally enveloped your life. You were trained in the ways of that band since birth, learned all about it, were a descendent of the band's founding members, and one day joined a cover band of said band.
That makes no sense, but that's pretty much how I feel.

Okay, let's take the intensity down a little and talk about my favorite part of Scotland: the Isle of Skye!
I haven't been anywhere in Scotland that I haven't liked, and some places have been so amazing. I have at least 200 photos of the Glenfinnan Viaduct (that bridge the Harry Potter train goes over for the scenic shots) and I giggled the whole time I was there in pure nerdy joy (check out a video of me butchering the Harry Potter theme song). Even considering this, the Isle of Skye still takes the cake.
The Isle of Skye is very small population wise - 10000 on the whole island - and it gives off a small town feel. Everyone there is overwhelmingly friendly and kind to counter balance the sometimes unforgiving landscape.
Because Skye is so small, public transport is virtually nonexistent. I ended up having to do something I've never done before: hitch hiking. Sorry dad, I know I said I wouldn't, but literally all the travellers and locals I talked to said you have to hitch if you want to get anywhere and don't have a car. Obviously, I survived, and I ended up having way more fun than I would have alone!
I'd had my thumb to the sky for about 20 minutes when I was picked up by the funniest Germans I've ever met. They ended up driving me all around the Isle, taking roads we probably shouldn't have and having staring contests with cows. We chased sheep, climbed unreasonably steep hills, and almost attended a craft fair. I had a blast with them and would highly recommend hitch hiking if you ever find yourself on the Isle of Skye; you meet the coolest people.

I just arrived in St Andrews today for the St Andrew's Day festival! St Andrew's in St Andrews? Count me in :D
I make no promises on blog posts until the very end of my trip. I want to enjoy every last piece of this haggis- I mean country.

Claire out »»»»

My Lovely Land of Green

I had a lot of good Crack in Ireland! No mom, not crack cocaine, but craic! Craic is the Irish Gaelic word for "fun". If something is "good crack" it's "good fun".
You can breathe again, I'm not a drug addict.

I never realised how much I didn't know about Ireland until I actually arrived. Here are some examples of stuff I didn't know, but I'm sure you worldly folk will adjust your bowties and chuckle at my ignorance.

First off, English isn't Ireland's first official language, Irish Gaelic - or simply "Irish" - takes the first place there. All the official government signs, road signs, stuff in airports, it's all in Irish and English. Children going through the Irish school system start learning Irish in elementary school, though most never use what they've learned after leaving high school. The Irish constitution is written in the Irish language, and it's a big plus if you speak fluent Irish when working in a government job.
I think this is fricken awesome. Most Irish folk find it more annoying than anything, but I think it's amazing to hold on to your history and culture like that, it really shows character and adds so much to the country.
I only learned a couple words whilst in Ireland:

I listened to a lot of Canadian folk music growing up, and a lot of the stuff coming from the East Coast is strongly influenced by Ireland - it's essentially Ireland part two. Although we do tend to lean more towards the Scottish side on the West Coast, I've listened to my fair share of Maritime and Irish bands. In these songs, they always mention the "lovely land of green" and such the like. I don't know why, but I always just assumed that had something to do with leprechauns and their flag? I honestly never thought about it. I knew it rained a lot in Ireland, but I never once thought "hmmm, lots of rain, I bet they have a lot of grass and plants!"
"Lovely land of green" does not even begin to describe this breathtaking country.
You can see photos from my trip to the Cliffs of Moher here, along with other various photos that my crappy phone does not do justice. You can get the idea, though.

I will quickly talk about the Giant's Causeway before I move on in my ignorance about Ireland.
Alright so I've wanted to see the Giant's Causeway for as long as I knew it existed. Once I found out there were tours that went up to Belfast and the Cliffs I actually danced in a circle. So, I paid 65€ and I did a 13 hour tour to get to this crazy rock formation. The Giant's Causeway was the last part of the tour, we got in around 14:00. I tried to control my excitement, but I was literally vibrating in my seat. I shit you not, I ran the 2km to get to the Cliffs, giggling like a schoolgirl. I get to the bottom of this giant hill, come around the corner and...
You know how they say "never meet your heroes"? It was sort of like that. It would be like meeting Steve Irwin and finding out he's a total prick and doesn't really like animals, he just does it for the publicity.
What I'm trying to say is: the Giant's Causeway sucks. Okay, maybe that's a little harsh. Lemme try again: the Giant's Causeway is built up a lot and made to look like a large wonder by clever photography tricks and angels. Where I thought it was a giant field that stretched on a little while, it was actually two mini little hills.

I am a grown woman - cough cough - but I almost cried when I rounded the hill. I did climb the hills, look around, take a few pictures, but I was pissed. My anger came from disappointment. I'd built the Cliffs up too much in my mind and I was slapped in the face with reality by a freezing cold, wet towel.
Thankfully, in my anger, I stomped off up a hiking path that ended up giving me a spectacular view.
The tour ended up being worth it, I'd say, but the Giant's Causeway gets a 5/10 from me.

Moving on, the third thing I didn't know was how truly friendly Irish people are. I'd heard from other travellers about Ireland and it's friendliness, but I was not prepared.
I jumped on a bus immediately after I got of my plane in Dublin to get to Galway. After a four hour drive, the bus driver called me to the front and chatted with me a bit, found out where I was staying, and dropped me off directly in front of my hostel. I was greeted by the hostel worker who said I looked very tired and carried my 20kg bag up a flight of stairs to my room. Those are the most notable examples, but I was constantly greeted by lovely people on hiking trails chatting with me and giving me directions. I had a man walk 2 kilometers with me to my hostel because he didn't want me to be lonely on my last night in Dublin.
I hope to one day to be as kind as an Irishman.

The fourth thing I did not know about Ireland isn't really about Ireland, but Northern Ireland. As part of the Giant's Causeway tour, we spent time in Belfast and did what is called a "Black Taxi Tour". 3-5 people climb into an old English taxi and get a tour of Belfast. It's not a city tour by any means: in fact, you leave the city almost immediately and head over to the residential area of Belfast that is separated by a wall that is five metres high in some places. Why is there a wall separating the residents of Belfast? I didn't know until the tour.
I won't go to much into detail, you have Wikipedia, you can Google the current and pat turmoil that exists in Belfast and most of Northern Ireland, but I'll give you a brief summary of what I learned from my amazing driver Patrick: Ireland was occupied by Britain for a long time and eventually they wanted independence. The British knew they couldn't win against the Irish, but they kept 6 of the 36 province-like areas of Ireland for themselves and renamed it Northern Ireland ("NI" from now on). Although some may think what is happening in NI is a religious war, Patrick explained that it is nothing at all like that: it's a war between Loyalists - those wanting to stay apart of Britain - and Republicans - those wanting to separate and join the Republic of Ireland.
You may have scoffed earlier when I said "war", thinking "this is a first world country, there are no more wars in first world countries!" but you would be mistaken. Patrick, my driver, is a Republican and the only reason he can drive into the Loyalist areas without getting shot is because he is in a Black Taxi doing an informative tour. Even in the taxi, you could tell he was on edge whilst on the Loyalist side of the wall.
To make make matters more intense, during our tour many roads and even an entire section of the residential area was shut down; cops had their cars blocking the road and patrolled the area with very stern and unforgiving faces. I still have no idea why the area was shut down.
I don't want any of this to deter you from visiting Belfast: I want to encourage you to visit. Do one of these tours. They're phenomenal.
Please, understand that I didn't get this information from a book, but from a man driving a taxi. I'm just relaying what I remember; it's not 100% accurate. If you are interested, please read up about it. I'm not trying to mislead anyone, I just want you to understand the experience I had in Belfast.

On a happier note to end the blog, I spent my last night in Dublin with the biggest grin on my face as I spun in circles dancing traditional Irish stepdance to a live band. It was the most fun I've had in a very long time. Normally the average tourist doesn't get to dance with this group, but I met one of the men before they began dancing and he volunteered me to dance when one of the other dancers was without a partner. Thank god I have some background in traditional stepdancing or I would have been nervous of all these tourists and visitors taking photos and videos of us. We had an absolute blast and I seriously had an ear-to-ear grin on my face the whole two sets I danced. It was a fantastic night and I hope one day I can return to O'Shea's Merchant's on a Monday and join in the festivities again!

Slán mo Éire!
~Claire

My Feet are Famous

Hey guys!

I just arrived safeLY IN GLASGOW OMG I'M IN SCOTLAND THIS IS NUTS I'VE WAITED A DECADE FOR THIS AAAAAAAAAHDBSOAHDNFOFUSBAKFNS

Right then.

In other news, I've got a blog post about Ireland in the works that should be up in a few days, weather depending :P I've posted some photos in a new Facebook album which can be found here, which can tide you over. Hopefully that link works, let me know if I messed up!

In more exciting news, MY FEET ARE FAMOUS. I also chugged beer on tv. Confused? Check out The Independent's page right here, it's a video all about Gent that happened to be filming while I was there. We ran into the tv crew a couple of times, but at around the 13 minute mark you can see yours truly chugging beer. You can also see my feet, one foot has a giant hiking boot, the other just a sock. The other set of feet is a good friend of mine. Try not to get our feet confused :P

So yeah, that happened.

Alright I'm done with the internet, I gotta go soak up as much Scottish rain as I can!

~Claire, the (up and coming) movie star

Searched for Dirt, Found Beer Instead

1.11.2015 09:00

Data log entry 10

Reporting officer Claire Stanhope

Log details:

It's been 164 hours since my arrival in Gent. My mission has been somewhat a success, but mostly a disappointment.
Three patches of dirt have been located, invaded, then trodded upon. These dirt patches, however, proved to be unsatisfying, as they were surrounded by cobblestones, tall buildings, and cars.

My search continues.

End log entry

--------

Since that "log entry" I did, in fact, find a park with a lot of dirt. I was very happy.

Despite not having very much real dirt or shelter from the city, I fricken love Ghent. IT'S HOGWARTS!! This is a city you don't need shelter from - most of the time.

I stayed at a phenomenal hostel where I met many very cool travellers. At one point I had a large group of friends and that group lasted almost three whole days, which is very long for hostel standards. Most of our little group - consisting almost entirely of Canadians - had only planned on staying one or two nights, maximum three. Almost everyone extended their stay at least a night, some two, some four!

I had originally only booked 5 nights and ended up staying 8. I knew both the weekday and weekend staff, both of which were surprised when they'd come back after three days off and see that I was still there. I was so comfortable in the hostel and with the staff that other guests thought I worked there as well! It was the longest is stayed in one place for so long, and it was so unnerving to have to leave again after becoming so comfortable and familiar with the hostel and the city. I only got lost 1/15 times, which is very good for me!

Unfortunately, most of my photos are on my camera which I cannot access without a computer. You'll have to wait on the photos until I find somewhere to transfer them. I'll let you all know when I do, though!

My time in Gent consisted of a lot of beer drinking. No mom, I don't have a "problem", but as a tourist in Belgium it's kind of required to try all these interesting beers! I also had that big scavenger hunt from Riley that I had to do and exploring for myself.

The beers were all fantastic and the bars all had excellent character and charm... but I won't bore you with the details. I will, however, tell you about the most unique bar I went to:

De Dulle Griet is a bar in Gent decorated in the classic style of Belgium: wooden furniture and walls, giant wooden beams, random signs and photos all over the walls, and strange objects hanging from the ceiling. This bar had a particularly strange object hanging from the ceiling: a bucket full of it's patrons' shoes. Why? So that the beer drinkers don't get any ideas about taking the giant 1.3L test tube glasses their beer is served in. Confused? Let me explain.
This bar has a gimmick where you can order 1.3L of 7% beer in a giant glass shaped like a test tube. The glasses are very unique, and after a while people got into the habit of stealing the glasses - how they managed this is beyond me, the glasses are huge - and the bar was losing money. The solution? Anyone who orders a "Max" has to give one of their shoes and place it in the bucket hanging from the ceiling. You get your shoe back when you return the glass.

I will admit, I participated in the delicate consumption of this beer twice and both times I ended up needing a bathroom break half way through the beer. Thankfully I have large feet and could borrow shoes from other people sitting with me.

I also went to Bruges for a couple of days, which was a nice city, but I just missed Gent most of the time. It was, however, very cool when I'd notice places that were in the movie In Bruges, which I hightly recommend if you like dark comedies with Irish people. My Irish accent is terrible, but I quoted that movie all day.

And now I'm back in Brussels. I stay one more night here, then I'm off to IRELAND! Gah! So exciting :D

Alright, I gotta go visit Brussels one last time. Au revoir!
~Claire

The Uppelink crew

Spiral staircase selfies!

All the Single Travellers

Being a single traveller is really cool.

No, I don't mean "single" as Beyoncé means it, I mean a lone vagabond: someone who's hopping from place to place without any ties to their normal life in the country they reside.

When you're travelling alone you can be whoever you want. You don't have to be "Claire the 20-year-old Canadian" anymore, and it's really fun. I've been "Claire the engaged 18-year-old," "Claire the professional sculptor," and "Klaara the Finnish girl running away from home."

No, I'm not becoming a chronic liar. No, I'm not harming anyone with my lies. These are people at the supermarket I will never meet again, or random travellers I encounter in a line-up for a tourist attraction. I love telling stories, as you may have figured out, and sometimes I make up characters and pretend to be them. It's just an entertaining pastime.

I love being able to be whoever I want. I can create another version of myself, like trying on new clothes. I can make myself into whoever I want, and I am treated differently in the process. I am completely judged by what I've done in the past - or at least say I've done. It doesn't matter who I am now, the events of my past have made me who I am and others will formulate what kind of person I am based on that.

Sorry, that was really random. I just had a thought, wrote it out, and figured I'd share it with you.

I'm writing another real blog post, and will hopefully have it up in a few days.

~Melissa, the 26-year-old lighting technician from Wisconsin