"John Muir walked away into the mountains"

WARNING: This post contains reflections on Nature and the meaning of life!

Sunday, Gloria (the Resident Director) took us out for a walk; the weather was, at last, Scottish: wet and chilly. She took us to the John Muir Walk along the North Sea, and we played on the bottom of the sea near the lighthouse at Barns Ness.






Because the tide was out, we walked along and searched for fossils, shells, crabs, mussels and other things that live in the weird space that is sometimes dry and sometimes wet.









I could not help but reflect, walking among those water-worn stones, about the cycles of nature and the infinite variety of life in the smallest tidal pool. The rhythm of the North Sea goes on and on, with no thought of me, and it will continue long, long after I'm dust. This thought comforts me; there is something eternal (or as near to it as I can imagine), some referent point to rest my mind on, and no matter how our puny moment in history interferes with it, it will one day shrug us off and continue on its way. (Speaking of our puny moment in history, Dennis collected a bag of mussels and then had to discard them when our house chef told him that anything from that part of the North Sea was too contaminated with diesel fuel and sewage to eat).

I was exhiliarated by the experience of picking my way out along the rocks worn smooth as polished marble by the waves, and, closer to the shore, under our feet, we crunched millions and millions of the tiniest shells, each at one time home to a living thing. In spite of the constant motion of the water, there were shelves of rock sticking up that refused to be eroded (yet), and Gloria said it was here that Enlightenment scientists first began to resist the notion that the Earth was only 6,000 years old, after seeing these slanting shelves of rock that had to be much, much older.

Another thought I had was about how easy it would have been to miss this experience because the weather wasn't ideal; it was rainy, it was muddy, it was chilly, and we could easily have stayed in the house, but then we would have missed this adventure. I felt like a child, simply delighted by what I saw, and I could imagine John Muir growing up on this coast ("in an old overcoat, crust of bread in his pocket") and falling in love with nature.

I can see why the Scots are so impressed with Florida's beaches, if this is their connotation of beach, but I'll take the North Sea anyday. I look better in a raincoat than a bikini anyway.

Gin

No Golf, No Running, and No Prince William Sightings

. . . but we enjoyed our day at St. Andrews anyway. This was a house trip, so all the students and faculty went together in a couple of big buses. The neatest part of the trip was crossing the big bridge over the Firth of Forth into Fife (love to say that fast!).

As we drove into St. Andrews, it was patently clear that this was a wealthy town -- partly evidenced by the sudden increase in the number of SUVs we saw on the streets; it was also obvious that more than half of the town's population is college students and that someone very famous was visiting; the place was crawling with "secret service" types (I'm not sure what they're called here) with ear-pieces and hidden handguns, all hovering around a young blonde woman who must be someone, although none of us knew who (does Princey-poo have a girlfriend?).




Anyway, we started our tour of the town at the old castle, exploring the ruins; this castle seemed anti-climactic after Tantallon, partly because it was smaller and partly because it wasn't a cold, foggy day! It was, in fact, HOT -- highly un-Scottish weather we've been having. Anyway, the St. Andrews Castle had some interesting features, including a bottle-shaped dungeon and two mines that were dug out during a battle in the 16th century.








This is me and Cyndi (Kernahan -- pscyh faculty) outside the once-grand entrance to the castle.




Of course, sports enthusiasts among you would know that St. Andrews is far more famous for its golf course than either its castle or its university (the oldest in Scotland, established in 1416). Yes, we did see and even walk upon the Old Course and try to feel the amazement that you golfers might feel. Frankly, it was tiny! I did think about the people who were actually out there golfing (which I guess you have to sign up to do, a million years in advance) and imagine the thrill they must feel playing their game in the place where it was invented, under the gaze of the clubhouse for the Royal and Ancient Golf Club, which has been around for 500 years.

Here's that historically impressive but architecturally underwhelming structure:


I suppose the man standing there must have all kinds of goose-bumps.

Here's another picture of the course, clubhouse in the distance:















And if you stand up next to the clubhouse, here's the view of the Old Course you'll get; somewhat more impressive, although the big building in the back isn't necessarily historically significant:






Of course, one thing I'd forgotten was that the beautiful West Sands beach at St. Andrews was where they filmed that slow-mo running scene from "Chariots of Fire." It really is an amazing beach, and, here, Dennis looks like he's showing it off to sell you a portion of it!
















St. Andrews also has the ruins of a really old cathedral, and that was pretty cool; you can see that the front, back, and side wall are still standing, and you can see the remainders of the other walls in the grass.

Overall, it was a nice day trip (other than the hung-over student trying not to hurl on the bus); there were lots of pastry shops, candy shops, and souvenir shops, so the town at times seemed like an up-scale Eagle River, but it was kind of exciting to be in what is so clearly a university town. While Scotland is in general a very international country and we've heard our share of languages in Edinburgh, that variety seemed even greater in St. Andrews (at lunch, we were trying to follow the table next to us as they flowed fluently back and forth between Spanish and French, and I think we saw more Americans in St. Andrews than we had in one place before).

North Berwick and Tantallon Castle

The first week of classes went well, and I think all the students are going to enjoy the Gothic Literature. In thinking about where to take them to get some "atmosphere," I ran across Tantallon Castle, a ruined 14th-century castle on the North Sea only about 16 miles from Dalkeith. So, I organized a field trip, and about 40 people signed up! In spite of some rail difficulties (don't ask), we had a great day!

We went to a quaint little tourist village on the North Sea called North Berwick; it had a High Street lined with shops and cafes, reminiscent of similar little towns in Maine. How wonderful to smell salty air! (Okay, a little fishy, too, but the beach was beautiful!). Dennis found some really amazing sea shells and rocks.
















Here's Tantallon Castle, looking up at the main tower from inside the courtyard. The castle was built in 1350 and destroyed by Cromwell in 1651. The ruins remain, and they seem a veritable archetype of the ruined medieval seaside castle.

We had a really interesting day, weather-wise: it was cool and cloudy and misty, and the fog rolled in as we were walking around the grounds. By the time we left, we could no longer see the rocks out in the water -- very mysterious and atmospheric!







Another view from the inside of the Castle courtyard; toward the right, you can see the remains of the great hall (above) and the kitchens and bakery (below).









A view from the inner courtyard.





This is a view of the cliffs surrounding three sides of the castle grounds -- very imposing, very amazing!














Looking down into the ruin of the main tower from up on top. When I was standing down below looking up, I could see the sea mist blowing in the top windows. The ruins inside are all moss-covered.




There's a pit prison in the bottom of the castle, with a long slanted window out to the sky -- we could absolutely see the Count of Monte Cristo huddling in the corner or coaxing a pigeon down the air shaft to become his pet.

All in all, it was a great day, and I think we've got a great physical referent for all the Gothic novels and stories we're going to read!

Gin

The Students Arrive, and We Immediately Send Them up Arthur's Seat

So, the real work begins! The students arrived on Thursday, around 1:00 pm, and we launched pretty quickly into three days of orientation and activities for them. We had to do kitchen duty, since they haven't been trained in their jobs yet, and I wish I'd taken a picture of Dennis in the hairnet! At least the experience of mopping an institutional kitchen made me realize, again, that no matter how hard grading papers is, I'd rather do it than food service!


We did the usual first day routine: the faculty and staff all line up on the front steps to welcome the students, who arrive en masse from the airport in Glasgow. There's a piper playing as they come off the bus, to begin to give them some Scottish atmosphere. I think it's a really nice way to welcome them -- a little bit of ritual and ceremony to help emphasize that this experience is going to be special and that this is really a program, not just classes.

So, the other two faculty standing with me are Cyndi Kernahan, who teaches psychology at UW River Falls, and Jerry Kapus, who teaches philosophy at UW Stout. It's really great to have a group of faculty all from the humanities, because we're already seeing quite a bit of overlap between the ways of thinking that our classes represent and promote. Nothing against accounting, but I think it would be hard to create a lot of "synergy" between Frankenstein and double-ledger bookkeeping!



Here they are! They piled off the bus, tired, thirsty, overwhelmed, and almost immediately started taking pictures. They come off, stare at the piper, then slowly look up and up and up at this amazing building they're going to be living in. The coo had to come and see what all the commotion was - I think she was responding to the sound of the pipes!




After two days of learning the rules and policies, the orientation culminated in a trip to Edinburgh (their first chance to use their bus passes and see how to get into the city) where we lead them down the Royal Mile to Holyrood Park for a walk up Arthur's Seat. Not all students signed up to go -- it's pretty intimidating to tackle a two-hour walk if you're not already an active person! After getting them into Edinburgh, they had to find their own way back to Dalkeith, and, I haven't checked around this morning, but I'm assuming they all made it back!


Here's where we started the climb; it actually doesn't look very intimidating from the base, because you can't quite see the very top, and you certainly can't see/predict just how very steep the first part of the climb is. The very top is 824 feet, and we made the ascent in about 40 minutes, so I'm sure you could do some kind of calculation (Rob) to figure out how steep the climb was (of course, Rob, you don't have to calculate, since you've done it yourself!).

We had an absolutely brilliant (as they say) day for the climb, too: sunny, warm, clear. I can't believe that some of the students are already complaining about the cold! All the students who chose to come along made it to the top, even the ones who'd done way too much celebrating the night before -- ah, the vigor and resiliency of youth!

Here I am at the top -- I only had to stop 8 or 10 times on the way up to catch my breath and let my heart-rate slow down a bit! It was very steep, as we took the path up past the Salisbury Crags (above -- see the tiny little people?), then the zig-zag rock "stairs" up the backside of the "rump" of the lion (from a distance, Arthur's Seat looks like a seated lion).

Standing here at the very top was a little scary, as I'm having to jostle for a spot to stand on some rocks that have been worn smooth by thousands and thousands of other walkers. One wrong move, and I would have been learning the ins and outs of the National Health Care system. To make things even more interesting, there were HORDES of flying ants at the very top, landing and crawling everywhere, so I'm trying to hold still for the picture, hang on to my waterbottle, keep the ants of off my face, and not knock Mitch and Ma (the two students there with me) down the cliff!


Dennis at the very top:
He realized why I'd been so squirmy when the ants started to swarm him, too!



Here's a small sampling of what the AMAZING views are from the top of Arthur's seat -- that's part of the city of Edinburgh and the Firth of Forth out beyond my head.

We took lots more pictures, but it takes a long time to upload them to the blog (plus, we wouldn't want to spoil the Christmas slide show!), and pictures simply can't capture the largeness of the scene.

After coming down (which took another 45 minutes or so, and really tested the resiliency of our knees), we walked back up the Royal Mile (more uphill walking!!) to Grassmarket for a pint and some onion rings at Maggie Dickson's pub, then up to Forrest Rd for a nice (but overpriced!!) array of Indian food at a place called Kurry Bar (which I don't really recommend -- the food was just not that interesting) and then caught the bus home to lie on the couch and watch CSI.

Tomorrow, classes begin. Deep breath in.

Gin

Beginning to Work

Ugh -- we've spent the last two days in orientation and training and planning for the arrival of the students on Thursday. It's all useful and necessary information, but my head is hurting from the piling on of it. I've spent the last four hours in front of the computer, printing out short stories for my students to read, reading research on the Gothic, and trying to decide just how to divide the class days. "I'm back in the saddle agin," but it feels pretty comfortable to be working here; they've set up a comfortable (though communal) office, and other than the severe restrictions (severe compared to my home campus) on photo-copying, I find the work atmosphere familiar and pleasant.

This morning, I felt a little homesick for my kitchen and the ease of preparing my own food, shopping for food (can't quite figure out the grams vs. ounces thing), etc., but that passed as we plunged into the work day.

We're realizing how expensive everything is; it costs about 2 pounds (that's almost $5 for you Yanks) just to do a load of laundry. And it's deceptive; the number seems right (£1.30 for a pot of tea in a shop), but then you do the conversion and you realize just how much is coming out of your paycheck (too bad UW isn't paying me in pounds!). Dennis's new motto for the UK: "Half as much for twice the price!"

But, the folks are nice, the house is beautiful, and what other chance would we have to practice our profession in another country? I'm excited about our Wisconsin students getting here and experiencing some of the "eye-opening" that we've had.

Okay -- off to assemble a salad to contribute to the house pot-luck!

Gin

A Wee Broon Troot

Beautiful little trout in the local stream. Just a few minutes from our door. Nice evening casting on pretty water with the promise of sea-run browns in a few weeks.

arteries . . . hardening . . . more cream, please

So, yesterday, I had this amazing pastry from Ford's bakery in Dalkeith; it was like a regular donut, covered in sugar (bad enough) but they split it in half and filled it with cream!!! Then, they squirted a little raspberry jam in the top hole. OHMIGOD!!!! Luckily, I'd walked into town and back twice AND around the grounds for over an hour before I ate it.

Gin