Bagpipes, Friendships and those Summer Nights

Several years ago, I was working in mid-Wilshire at a job that I dreaded going to every morning. My only solace during the day was the thirty minutes when I would take my lunch to the park across the street and sit at a bench and people-watch. Afterwards, I would walk through the park for a few minutes before heading back to the office. On one such occasion, I came across familiar but unlikely sounds coming from the far end of the park. I walked towards the direction of the music, all the while thinking, there is no way I'm hearing what I'm hearing. But sure enough, tucked among the tress was a man playing bagpipes! (I'm pretty sure  he was wearing a kilt, but that could very well be my memory filling in the blanks.) I've always loved the sound of bagpipes (commonly referred to as "pipes" here), finding it simultaneously uplifting and slightly melancholy ---so it wasn't surprising that my first solo outing in Scotland was to the town's Pipe Band Championships.

These guys were ready for it to rain on their parade!

The forecast had called for rain and I was tempted to stay in cuddled up on the couch with a blanket and a book, but I knew it was time to get out and get a taste of the local culture. Not to mention, all that alone time was starting to make me antsy. So I bundled up and headed out to the park where the competition was taking place. People were already gathered under the covered stands and I could hear one of the bands on the field. It was more than just great music; I loved watching the synchronized movements, the different tartans and the enthusiasm of the spectators.

At some point there was a break in the performances and I found myself striking up a conversation with a woman and her mother;  before I knew it, they had taken this L.A. girl under their wing. They wanted to know my story. After all, it's not often someone moves from Los Angeles to Innerleithen. I assured them it was just a long stay, but they were intrigued nonetheless. We went for coffee afterwards and by the end of the day, a friendship was forged. The following week, I was having dinner at their home. Yay, my first friends here. I should have known my love for bagpipes wouldn't lead me astray.


... a week later, I went to a festival in neighboring Peebles with my new friends.  A week-long event, it was ending that evening in a sort of band-off between the Peebles Silver Band and a visiting pipe band from Oman. The main street was blocked off, crowds had gathered all around. We were bundled up in hats, scarves and jackets, fingers crossed that the rain would hold out, but no such luck was in store. Just as the bands began, it started pouring.  Within minutes, the sidewalks became a sea of umbrellas, everyone craning their necks to get

Scotland v. Oman -bring it on!

a good view of the musicians. Kids splashed around in puddles, kicking up water and squealing with joy. College kids hung in packs without any covering, letting raindrops fall into their plastic cups of beer, cheering in drunken celebration.

It was absolutely amazing. Rain came down hard but the band players didn't flinch. I kept waiting for someone to reach up and wipe the water off his face but it didn't happen. Determination and passion kept them going. The fans were not to be deterred either; they stayed until the very end. My friend was giving me the scoop on the various tunes -some old national songs that she's known since childhood, other more popular ones. It was all Greek (er, Scottish) to me. That is, until I found myself moving to a familiar beat. The song was probably half done before I even realized that I knew the tune. Excitedly I asked, Is that "Summer Nights" from Grease?! Yup, it was. It was totally random, but a fun way to end the evening.

My favorite part: At the end of the evening, the two bands joined as one. 

Rosslyn Chapel: A Step Back in Time

One of the gargoyles protecting the chapel. 

Just a few miles outside the bustling city of Edinburgh is a little village called Roslin. Within the village is Rosslyn Chapel. If it sounds familiar, it's likely because you recall the famous site from Dan Brown's book Da Vinci Code. Having read it myself, excitement kicked in as we drove closer to our destination. It was my chance to experience a bit of history that had felt so real through Robert Langdon's eyes. 

I spent the first ten or fifteen minutes walking around the building and just taking it in. People passed me by, posing for photographs or rushing to enter the building. In comparison to other architectural works I've seen, it is average in size, but there was just something about it that made me want to take my time. I felt like a panther on a slow prowl around the periphery.  It was an unusually warm day here and the sun shone bright, emphasizing the green grass, the blue skies and the browns of the chapel. I gazed at the pillars, the gargoyles, the carvings bordering the windows. Every inch of the place seemed to have a story behind it.  It was like I was back in another time -long, long ago.

Once inside, I was mesmerized by even more intricate carvings and the rich colors of stained glass windows. I walked around in a sort of trance, from pillar to pillar, taking in the history and beauty of it all. At some point, I found myself in front of the famous Apprentice Pillar. Legend has it that the master mason had left to seek out the original inspiration for the column, but when he had returned, his apprentice had completed the column. In a fit of jealous rage, he struck the apprentice dead. It is said that as punishment, the master mason's face is carved facing the apprentice's pillar so he would be forced to stare at his work for all eternity. Ah, that treacherous ego! 

We were only at Rosslyn for about an hour or so, but the hundreds of detailed symbols and scenes are enough to keep one occupied all day. This was just the first of the iconic buildings in Scotland on this trip; I can't wait to see more! Next up: Melrose Abbey. 

Unfortunately, they've stopped allowing photography on the inside of the chapel so I had to sneak this shot by zooming in from the outside.

Aside for its architectural beauty,  Rosslyn Chapel is also famous for its association with the Knights Templar and the Holy Grail. According to some, the Grail was buried beneath the Rosslyn Chapel.  

Week One: Settling In

somewhere between Heathrow and Edinburgh

driving into the Scottish Borders region

I told myself I would be disciplined with my writing on this trip, but I've been having a bit of writer's block and am lagging on my blogging. I know I promised you regular contact from me while I'm here (if nothing else, so you know I'm alive ;) - for now, I'll have to satisfy your curiosity with some pictures I've taken.

It's taken some getting used to, being so far from home. I didn't think I'd start getting homesick so soon into my journey, but as my friend Gideon pointed out, "It is a part of the process. If it did not come up a little bit, it would not be a big enough leap." He was right. It was a big leap for me. I had never traveled alone before and deciding to go live in another country for the summer -though an exciting adventure -was still daunting. He had shared his own experiences of solo journeys, and I was inspired. If he could sell off his belongings and travel across the world with just a backpack, I could enjoy two months on my own in the beautiful countryside of Scotland.

I didn't make a list of "must do's" for while I'm here, hoping to allow life to unfold as it will. I do hope to write more, to get comfortable with solitude, to explore the country a bit. I'm staying in a small town in the Scottish Borders region, about an hour out of Edinburgh.

My favorite things about the town so far:

*People are really friendly, always going out of their way to help.
*It's quaint but has everything I need -including an old book store -just a walk away.
*The weather has been really lovely thus far. I haven't had to take out my heavy jacket or rain boots yet.

Things I'm learning:
*How to properly pronounce "Edinburgh" -never, never say it like it looks. And no, it's not Edin-bor-ough either. It's something closer to Edinbra or Edinburra, but not Edinburgh with a hard "g."
*The refrigerators are really tiny here (you know, like the ones in college dorm rooms).
*Smiles, thank-you's, and other niceties are appreciated just as much here if not more.

Okay, kiddos, it's dinner time for me here so I'm going to sign off. I promise to be back again soon.

the woods a few minutes walk from the house

one of the cute side streets

a horse from the hike the other night

the river Tweed