Scotland the Brave

Hi all!

Some of my more loyal readers may have noticed that I didn’t blog last week, yet I’m hoping that this post makes up for the little break in my tradition. The last week in October is Toussaint, a countrywide holiday in France, and the week long vacation meant I could finally get some more stamps in my passport! After some far-fetched ideas about flying to Greece or the South of Italy for a little warmth, my bank account quickly extinguished my dreams of a mediterranean resort. However, my gracious and amazing friends at St. Andrews were willing to tour me around Scotland for the week, and, since they live in dorms, it would be easy to crash on their floor. So I bought a guide book of Écosse at the local bookshop, gathered as many sweaters as I could fit into my carry-on luggage, took a train to Geneva, and jetted off towards Edinburgh.

Waiting for JK

Scones are always a good idea

Arthur’s Seat looming over the city

After a whole day of travelling and an arrival time in Edinburgh of 2 a.m., my morale was low, but I was greeted by friendly people, ENGLISH, and a clear starry night over a beautiful city. After a day touring Edinburgh and secretly wishing to run into JK Rowling on the street, I was off to St. Andrews to see my friends. Welcomed with a burger and a swapping of stories from our abroad experiences thus far, I felt more at home than I had in months. St. Andrews is probably one of the coolest towns I have ever been to, teeming with an energetic student population, but distinctively Scottish with its medieval ruins and battered coastline. Walking around the three main streets that divide St. Andrews, I was astonished at the number of cafés, restaurants and boutiques they managed to cram into such a small space. Making a mental note each time I passed a café with delicious-looking scones, or a shop with Barbour jackets and lambs-wool scarves, my list of must-hit places grew rapidly. Sitting here writing this in my new Tartan scarf, I can happily say that I made the pilgrimage to most of the places I wanted.

I was lucky enough to have friends willing to let me sleep in their rooms, so accommodation was a breeze, and I got to see how they live their lives at St. Andrews, which is drastically different than what I experience every day. I didn’t realize how much I missed the convivial and energetic life in a dorm, and seeing my friends say ‘hi’ to people as they walked home made me realize why dorm life is such a crucial element in making Holy Cross what it is. All the students at St. Andrews seemed to be extremely friendly, and the other Holy Cross students were surprised (and I hope happy?) to see another familiar face so far from Worcester.

Old Course sunset

The ruins of St. Andrews Cathedral

During the week, we went on a couple of local excursions to places like Anstruther, a coastal town famous for its fish and chips, and Tentsmuir forest, a national park with a supposedly active grey seal population. In trekking across the Scottish landscape, I was awed by the natural beauty of such a rugged and rural country. Rolling hills, empty fields and mist, combined with horses coming to greet us made the walk to Tentsmuir forest both mysterious and breath-taking (mostly because the walk was a little longer than my out-of-shape body was ready for). Once in the park itself, we were impressed by the way the enchanted-looking forest ends abruptly and gives way to a wide, sandy beach with steep dunes and blue waters (though I was not impressed by the lack of seals). Ansrtuther was also gorgeous, with a stormy, windy morning ending in a sun-soaked and mild afternoon and a taste of the best fish and chips in the UK, according to a recent vote (the flag of Scotland lodged into a rocky cliff also provided a great stock of Instagram photos).

Initially,  I was blown away by the friendliness and stunning scenery that greeted me in Scotland, and I couldn’t help but wish that I had chosen to come to St. Andrews. As they say, the grass is always greener on the other side, and I often find myself comparing my year abroad to other’s. Though my experience in Dijon has presented its fair share of challenges, I constantly remind myself of how truly blessed I am to be able to call France my home. Complain as I might about miscommunications and administration, I cherish the opportunity to define my own life à la française (which started three months ago today!–it’s crazy how quickly time is going by). Overall, Scotland provided me with a renewed energy and reinvigorated my positive outlook. I’m sure the grass is greener in France for people studying elsewhere (debatable for Scotlanders because the grass is literally so green in Scotland) .

Huge shoutout to my friends from Holy Cross who made this week possible and without whom I would never have had the chance to see this beautiful country!

HC reunion!

À la prochaine,

Thoma(s)*

*don’t pronounce the ‘s’ to sound extra french

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 1st, 2015 at 2:30 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

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