Sunday by The Scores

A lovely view of the West Sands. This is the beach where the opening scene of the movie "Chariots of Fire" was filmed. Duh nuh nuh nuh nuuuh nuuuuhh, chha chha chaaa chaaa...

This past Sunday, Patrick and I took a stroll down to an area of St. Andrews that I've been wanting to see but hadn't quite made it to. St. Andrews is a town known for its university and its golf course. I've already seen a lot of the first, but nothing of the latter, unless you count driving by and wondering "hmm, I bet that's the golf course..." After packing a hearty lunch - peanut butter and jelly - and picking up two hot coffees from a delicious placed called The Coffee House - for "take-away", of course - we headed down to the West Sands and the Old Course. Of course ; )

This shot was actually taken after we went through the golf course. It led straight to the beach, which serves to show how close the course is to the ocean.

The West Sands of St. Andrews is a beach down by The Scores, a road that runs along the ocean. It is quite famous in that the opening scene from Chariots of Fire, filmed in 1981, were shot on this very beach. It is a scene where a bunch of white guys wearing white shirts and white shorts run along the beach, focusing particularly on a couple of the guys and the strange faces they make while running. Patrick and I didn't run the beach, but we did walk along the soft sand. It was amazingly soft and oddly enough, very shiny.

I refuse to run in tiny white shorts...

Lucky for us, the weather has been pretty steady and on Sunday it was brisk but sunny; however down by the water the wind was blowing and the temperature dropped. It was still very nice. I mean, how many people can walk to the ocean from their house? I was sure to pick up some little seashells as a souvenir.

Welcome to the Old Course! Photo opportunity just to your right: pose with a flag stuck in a hole.

On Sundays, the Old Course opens its grounds to the citizens of St. Andrews and everyone, young, old, and four-legged are able to walk the grounds. Dogs everywhere: chasing balls, chasing each other, chasing their dreams. The Old Course is one of the oldest golf courses in the world. The people of Scotland like to say that this is where golf was invented, first played here in the early 1400s. The question that I've heard, quite possibly the most, from people I know: do you play golf? Now, I know a thing or two about golf from my old man, but I'm not a golfer myself. Neither is Patrick. So we spent our time walking the amazingly soft grass of the course.

We were curious as to whether it was real, so we both bent down to give it a rub. The most action that grass has seen all day. (Believe us, it's real.)

From what I understand, no one plays golf on Sundays, however we did see a number of people teeing up. Perhaps it is "play at your own risk" considering the amount of people that come out to walk around. For fun, I'm assuming for fun, there is a place for people to rent golf clubs and put, just like going to a mini-golf course in the States.

Note the fashion: Plaid pants, argyle knee socks, clubs on back. Classic Old Course.

It's a really nice place to walk and get some exercise. I saw someone jogging along one of the gravel paths of the old course, which I'm assuming is a great place for a workout considering there are actually hills in a generally flat town. Hopefully we will go back soon before the weather gets too cold to enjoy the ocean. However, in my opinion, there is never a bad time to go to the ocean.

(By the way - This blog post is dedicated to my dad, who never let us forget that the Old Course was open for walking on Sundays. I mean, seriously, he never stopped reminding us :P)

Cheers!

(As always, to see more photos from this day, visit my flickr page!)

Dundee

Welcome to Dundee!

It's no secret that my main purpose of being here in Scotland is to study. I'm doing a one year program called an M.Litt, or Master of Letters, which sounds so much cooler that saying that I'm studying for my Masters Degree. I'm studying Art History, which is one of my greatest passions in life, and what better place to study Art than in Europe, "where the history comes from" according to comedian Eddie Izzard.

However all work and no play will make me a terribly grumpy cooped up cranky-pants, and so today Patrick and I traveled the 20 minutes or so to Dundee, the fourth largest city in Scotland. I needed to buy some new running shoes (a product that St. Andrews is sorely lacking) and we both need to get some cell phones (again... sorely lacking for the kind we need). Once there, we checked out a record store called Groucho's and then headed into a mall, but since I'm like a baby bird and need to be fed every few hours, I got hungry and we looked for food.

Little did I know the happiness that was  headed my way...

 

 

 

There was a little restaurant called Papa Joe's that seemed to be a mix between a classic Italian restaurant with red checkered tablecloths and a TGI Fridays due to the strange array of framed pictures and nick-knacks that just covered the walls. Patrick sat under a handful of pictures, one of which was a newspaper article of the Queen's wedding. We perused the menu as we listened to music by Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. The lunch menu was small and mostly meat items, but we were able to find a vegetable pizza that we split. However the real tasty part was the coffee - mocha coffee. I don't know what kind of baby angel magic they used to make this drink, but I couldn't get over how good it was. It was like a hot chocolate, but not that Swiss Miss packaged powder, real chocolate. But it was also like a coffee. Like a delicious coffee with chocolate in it. I'm still salivating. Even Patrick liked it, and he isn't usually into sweets and sweet drinks, and who is very particular about his coffee (usually plain coffee with minimal milk and sugar). He commented that it "tastes like Christmas".

If Santa Clause were to drink coffee, this would be his only drink of choice.

We went back to the mall after and, although we didn't find any phones, I was able to get the trainers I needed (aka, the sneakers I needed), as well as some new running gear. Patrick got a new jacket, too. At this point it had turned a bit rainy and we had to wait for the bus to get back to St. Andrews (the 99 bus!).

My overall thoughts on Dundee? I feel like we might have seen the wrong part of the city. There was a good deal of construction going on where we were and with the mall it was a bit crowded and "touristy". I'd like to go back and go further into the city to see what else it has to offer. The best part about heading to Dundee is the scenery along the way. There are a lot of open fields with rolled up bales of hay, livestock, and green hills. Although, maybe because of the time of year, there were more tan hills than anything.

On the way to Dundee (because on the way home, it was dreary and rainy and did not look this nice!)

Cheers!

Getting on

English Breakfast and chocolate covered Digestives.

Life goes on as normal as possible. This is what I've learned in my first few days in St. Andrews. The person you think you'll be when you move is not necessarily the person you'll become. For some reason I thought that moving here would change me, that I would settle in and feel different but I'm the same as I was back home. I have the same thoughts and feelings, the same habits, the same tastes, the same interests. I am the same person no matter how different I thought I would be. This is a very comforting thought.

Patrick and I are settling into our new "Base" as we call it ("Time to head back to base" is what we were thinking...) and over the past few days we have tried to make the little room feel as homey as possible.  My desk is long and has a lot of surface area to spread out books and papers. I haven't had time to decorate with the postcards, pictures, and posters that I've brought with me, but I have brought along a few of my favorite books and nick-knacks - a little Buddha statue, a small orange cat that represents my Merry, a Damura doll with one eye painted (I'm waiting until I complete my goal to paint the second eye and then set it on fire), and a painting of a dream I once had. These, along with Patrick's Jackie Chan action figure, a few mugs from home, and a little plush Luigi (Thanks Chewy and Anne!) all make the place feel a bit more like home.

My desk: don't be fooled by my note-taking and tea drinking. Only one of those two things is actually happening here.

The flat is small, only a one room studio with a very small bathroom. Very, very small... When we first arrived I was so sleep deprived and grumpy that I immediately hated the place and regretted everything. I may have overreacted a bit but so would you if you see this bathroom. However, it is growing on me, and the more I live here the more fond of it I become. Granted there are still parts about it that I hate (tiny shower in the corner of the bathroom soaks the entire bathroom floor after every shower, not enough hanger space in the closet, hard mattress, not much privacy, harsh lighting) but there are parts that are quite endearing and useful. For example, the kitchen is so much a part of the overall room that I can easily make food or get a drink and go back to my desk. I don't have to climb stairs and I could literally roll out of bed and make coffee if I so inclined. Also, the light switches here are so unique - one has to flip the switch down to turn it on.

Walking to class on a Tuesday afternoon. Lovely weather and a lovely view.

I have been here for a week now and I already know my way around town. I've walked the streets so many times by now that I have a good sense of the layout of this town (or at least the main inner portion of the town, not the outskirts). It is about a 25 minute walk to get from the David Russel Apartments - where we are living - into the center of town. Along the way is so much to look at. There are a number of university owned sport fields along the way, which is probably the most open space I've come across within the town. There is the astronomy building with its four observatories.

Rugby players practicing on the University pitch

Now, I know what many of you must be wondering, because I wake up every morning here wondering the same question... What's the weather like? The weather has been very nice, although it did rain today for the first time (minus a short but heavy rain shower that only lasted briefly). This makes the town a bit dreary, but it doesn't stop the motion. The town is like a working hive and the workers never stop.

The walk home as the sun sets over St. Andrews

I've found that the differences between St. Andrews and back home in the States are only on the surface; only "skin deep". Yes, there are double-decker buses, there are red telephone boxes, the houses have neatly kept front gardens and the people drive on the "wrong side of the road". There are old stone buildings without breaks between them and old ruins right down the street. The grocery store stocks many types of tea but their coffee section is a bit of a bummer.

However the real heart and soul of this town isn't any different from back home, and this is due to the people. The people here are friendly and generous, and I have found that to be true in the many pockets of Massachusetts. Like home, most people will hold the door for you, will say "please" and "thank you" - or "cheers", and will smile and give advice or directions. I've had lovely chats with university employees, other students, and people around the town and they've all been very hospitable, which is a common Scottish trait.

The classic telephone box that I've never seen anyone ever use.

I've met a few other Art History graduate students and we've gotten on swimmingly. We really represent cultural differences that are so prevalent in this university and town- myself from Massachusetts, Kate from Washington D.C., June from Singapore, Franzisca from Germany, Christie from Taiwan, & Catherine from Scotland. They are all lovely, intelligent woman that bring a lot to the department and I know will make my time here and my education worth while.

From left to right: Catherine, June, me, Christie, and Franziska

I hope that as I go along, my blog posts can be more specific and directed. There is so much going on right now that I'm trying to encompass a lot into each post. But now that I'm much more settled in and beginning a regular schedule of classes and study, I'll be able to talk more about specifics and hopefully give you all a better idea of what day to day life is like in St. Andrews, Scotland!

Cheers!


(For more images from this session, visit my flickr page! )

Welcome to St. Andrews

Let me just start by saying that if you ever decide to travel to Scotland, get a direct flight there, avoid British Airways, sleep on the plane if it is an overnight, and be prepared to eat a lot of sandwiches. Delicious airport sandwiches.

Patrick and me, excited to begin our adventure

Patrick and I took two flights to get to Scotland, and they had their ups and downs (plane pun, anyone?). For our first flight out of Boston at 10:25pm, we were dropped off at the complete opposite side of the airport. We were in the international terminal, which would seem logical. This part of the airport was nice, clean, reflective, and definitely made to show those traveling from abroad that the United States can impress. In contrast, the part of the airport that we were supposed to be in was a bit duller, worn around the edges, and made for the Americans who know better that to be swayed by high ceilings and glossy black floors.

The sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean was surreal

After a bit of running around, Patrick and I finally made it to our terminal and soon after, our journey really took off (last one, I promise!). We swore we would sleep on the plane... we were wrong. Looking at the rest of the passengers on the plane, especially the woman next to us, you'd think it would be easy to sleep on planes. Mouth wide open, not a care in the world, maybe a little drool, it looked like pure euphoria to someone desperate for even a few moments of sleep. We spent the better part of 6 hours with our heads in American Airlines complimentary pillows that had the texture of a dryer sheet. Scratch that - Patrick had the complimentary pillow, I had a sweet walmart neck pillow. In between non-sleeping sessions, we watched tv and goofed off in the loopy kind of way that only exhaustion can bring until we landed smooth as silk at Heathrow Airport, 9:50am London time.

Hanging out in Heathrow was definitely an experience. I had been anticipating being immersed in the English accent, so it was definitely a treat to hear the variations in dialect. With a bit of time to kill until our 2:55pm flight. We walked around the airport and visited some of the shops. We spent our first pounds on cheap, delicious sandwiches, crisps, and drinks at a place called Pret a Manger and then lots of coffee throughout. Patrick managed to get in a few zzzzz's on a bench but I was too uncomfortable to sleep.

 Pret A Manger falafel sandwich - trust my words, not my expression - it was delicious.

The flight was delayed because British Airways didn't have enough employees to staff the plane, which was frustrating. I overheard a British woman waiting for the flight say to the man next to her, "I'd love to take just one flight with British Airways that was on schedule." After about an hour, we were finally able to board our flight to Edinburgh. One of the great things about people in Europe is the likelyhood that they will start up a conversation with you. Granted, the man next to Patrick was from Vancouver, but we did as the Romans do and we all chatted the entire hour and a half about travel, American politics, and what we were going to do in St. Andrews. He was clever, obviously rich, and had a good-natured, amiable sense of humor that made the ride fly by (unintentional pun this time, I swear!).

The drive to St. Andrews was about another hour through the rolling countryside of Scotland, which unfortunately was completely riddled with this black stuff called "nighttime", making it unable to see any of the "green" that we were told was breathtaking. We arrived, tired and sluggish, got our room key, and settled in after just under 30 hours of no sleep.

Bicycles everywhere

Patrick and I are finally in the lovely town of St. Andrews. I mentioned something about how lovely the town was, and Patrick commented that everyone gave us advice to start using British and Scottish terms, such as "lovely" and "cheers", and we really didn't want to jump on that train. However here we are, only two days in, and we are calling this town lovely. You honestly can't help it though. St. Andrews is picturesque, the people are kind and hospitable and the architecture is venerable while still retaining the quaintness that the residents love. We have spent a lot of time walking around the town, purchasing things we need and trying out some of the local shops and "take away" restaurants (more sandwiches). Many of the buildings are made of old stone, more-so the closer you get to The Scores, to the ocean. there are three main roads in the town, all all either half paved or full cobblestone, again the closer you get to the ocean, the older everything gets.

 No one answered...

We saw many narrow cobblestone pathways and alleys and every once in a while we came upon a brightly painted door that sticks out like a sore thumb yet seems perfectly at ease where it is because that's where it's been for ages. We are still adjusting to the one thing in the town that varies greatly, the people. You will find young university students, the girls all wear heels and the boys in scarves and jackets, as well as old men leisurely sitting in front of shops, smoking pipes as if they have nowhere to be all afternoon. We met a gentleman that was been selling books and old postcards by a fountain in the center of the cobblestone street for thirty-eight years. There are families walking dogs of all shapes and sizes, students enjoying the social environment that the town offers, and then Patrick and I - too sleepy, too old to be hanging our with the throngs of undergrads, too hungry, but happy and together.

St. Andrews Cathedral

Yesterday we explored the ruins of the St. Andrews Cathedral, which had caved-in but still stands in solid, immense pieces. It's such a strange town in that you can walk out of a shop where you just bought electronics and peek down the street and see a castle on the horizon. St. Andrews is a small town, yet lively and can be crowded in some places along the main streets, however, thankfully, the ruins were actually quite clear. We walked through the cathedral with floors of grass and wound our ways through the invisible walls into the cemetery adjacent to it to get a peek of the Scottish coastline. And if you walk down a little hill, past a yellow house with a red roof, out onto a stone pier which at one time must have harbored massive ships, you are surrounded by the ocean while standing on an ancient rock. One can't help but feel affected.

 The Pier

Classes begin on Monday and I am thrilled to begin my modules and be a student again. Nothing makes me happier than learning, especially learning about art. I'll be sure to continue posting blogs whenever I have free moments and continually thank Patrick for helping me design it, creating my header, and editing my posts before they are put up.

Cheers!

(For more lovely pictures from our first days in St. Andrews, visit my flicker page!)