In a world, where beer is cheaper than Pepsi, what do I choose?

Scotland

We went on a stupid bus tour of Edinburgh right after a Trans-Atlantic flight. And the guide had us eat breakfast in an outlet mall. That sucked, but it was a nice tour. I’m going to skip the schools part, because they're boring, and group crap. That’s not the fun stories. Right behind our hotel was Rose Street, which had 22 pubs. WHOO-HOO! I went to one of them for lunch after that crappy breakfast and had a "burger with mature English cheddar and bacon and chips" I thought, you know, a bacon cheeseburger, with some fries. I told the waitress, no lettuce, no tomato, and definitely no mayonnaise. She looked like I hit her in the face with a dead fish. This was the first time I had eaten there, so imagine my surprise when I had these realisations- mature English cheddar means aged white cheddar. I hate white cheddar cheese. Aged helped it none. It tasted like tangy provolone. And the bacon? Not, you know, bacon, but crappy Canadian bacon. Piece of pig on piece of cow, topped with tangy provolone. And the chips! I have always been told, "Fries are chips, and chips are crisps." Well, chips are not fries. Fries are thin slivers of potato, fried, and really greasy. Chips are like a potato that has been quartered, and fried. Good, and really hot, but HUGE! (Chips are crisps, by the way) 

We had dinner at this place called "Blue" good food, great food. (If I say we, means one of the few group things that didn't suck. This will probably refer to just meals...) At the airport, at 11a, leaving Norfolk, I saw a sign for a mojito. And I wanted one ever since. Two days later, in this fancy restaurant in Edinburgh, I finally get it. As soon as I sit down, the waiter comes over- drinks, anyone? Mojitos! Since this was a group dinner, the University paid for food. Drinks, save water/tea, are not included in the price. So we all had to pay for drinks. This meal, I had a different drink with each course- the perusing the menu/ordering course-the mojito. Then the appetizer, a wonderful salad, and my friend bought a bottle of wine, and I had a glass. Then, entree- I had a beer brewed in Edinburgh, since the 1700s. And a lovely braised pork shoulder. Oh, that was great. then desert, was...Crème Brule. And...Baileys with coffee. That was a good night. 

There's Edinburgh castle, and everyone wanted to go see it. It was 12pound to get in. 12! I was not about to pay that to go look at a bunch of empty rooms, so that night, at the gay bar we went to as a group, (OVD and Coke- best rum I've had lately) I told everyone that my plan for the next day, our free day. I was getting on a train, fairly early, and going to the other side of the country. I was looking at a map and picked Helensburgh. It was originally Balloch, but I decided for Helensburgh, as I had no idea what I was doing anyways. Most said have fun. A couple said, do you think you've seen all of what Edinburghhas to offer? And what are you going to tell people when they ask, "What did you do in Edinburgh?" you're going to say "...I slept in the hotel, and left." (They were mad because I insulted the castle) and one person looked at me with puppy eyes and said "Duuuuuuuuuuuuuudddddddddddeeeeeeeeeeeee, that sounds...like so much fun! You’ll really enjoy it...you're going to see some other parts of the country? Oh, my God. I wish I could do that." I reminded her, she was fully invited, because it's not like I had made super secret magic plans with everyone in helensburgh for a party she wasn't invited to. "Nooooooooooooooo, I couldn't." 

Ok.

The next morning, I went down to the train station, and bought my tickets. I left, and in Glasgow, I popped off to grab lunch. I based my stop on the recommendation of others in the car with me. After I got off the train, I found myself in King George's Square, and took lots pictures. I had lunch at the Counting House. I had chili and a pint of...something good. Not a cider, not a local brand. It was...not Carlsberg or Guinness, not...I can't remember. Then I got back on the train and met a woman and her two year old, who was just utterly precious. Talked to her (I can't remember her name, because it's written down and the list is at my parent’s house...) for a while. (It starts with an N.) She used to work for U2's first manager. Actually, the second, because it was after Adam "managed" but before Paul McGuiness. And we talked for a while, and at Dumbarton Central, I told her I thought about going to Balloch. (They called for Balloch at this stop) She said, OH, you should! You can see Loch Lomond, and the highlands, and it’s absolutely beautiful! As soon as I stood up, the doors closed. Well, don't think I can today...Ah, see it on the way back or the next time you come. Yeah, and we got to talking again. At the very next stop, Dumbarton East, they called for Balloch again. I said, Hey, I'm getting lucky! We both smiled etc, and I jumped off the train. I immediately realized she didn't know my name or anything, so I jumped back on, gave her my card, and jumped off as the doors were closing. She was fun to talk to from Glasgow to Dumbarton East. Then, the train to Balloch came, and I headed up there. In the town ofBalloch, I met a group of students from Texas, and one of them was from NC! Small world. I got away from them quickly, because there was talk of a "tour" Nope, I didn't want to be touristy. So I walked up a path, and ran into Elizabeth. Turns out, she is a retired professor (dude, she was old) from one of the schools that we saw for class. I just walked up to her on the path, Hi, my name's Jeremy. Hi.... Well, I don't mean to impose myself, but I'm walking down this path, and you're walking down this path, since we're both going down the same path, at the same time, you might like to know who you're walking beside. And I won her over. She was nice. We talked about Scottish pedagogy for, oh 5 minutes, or so, and parted ways. We got to Loch Lomond. I walked around, because I could see a little walkway, over there. (I would explain that sentence, but I don't think I can do it well so, just pretend.) I had to cross a footbridge, and as I did, I noticed a "wee stream" and stopped to take a picture. I had to lie down on the bridge to get the perspective I wanted. As I did, another older Scottish lady came over and must thought something about the stupid tourists who come up here because she just looked down at me and said "You're looking the wrong way. (I did turn my back to the loch to get the picture I wanted) That's just a wee stream, the great loch's that way (as she pointed)" I turned and looked at her- "Aye, but it's the wee streams that make up the great lochs." And I won her over. I'm Jeremy. I'm Maureen, and this is Sasha the dog. But she didn't say dog, she said "daug" It was fun. She said, you've got to come see my favorite part- and we walked to a little beach. she was pointing out the tallest hills, and explaining what the marina was (for the golf festival thing) and make sure you get a picture of the chalet, and look over here at this, and this back over here...tell your parents about this mount its the blah blah blah. She was going to go meet her sister, and i was there on the beach taking the bigger of the two pans I took that day. Man, every time I look at this scene I saw, I still melt on the inside. It was absolutely beautiful. Then I walked back over to the train station, and left Balloch. I headed out to Helensburgh.

I got there, and took the second pan. I walked out on a pier on the River Clyde, and took picture of this Charles Wysockie-esque street, with shops called Acorn Art, a Toyota Dealership, and the Clyde Bar, with the River in front and the highlands in the back. Still makes me smile when I think of this one picture. Then I pretty much walked all over town. I’m shortening, because I don’t want to type all night. Even though I’m not sure exactly what time it is...I got hungry enough to find food. There was an Italian place right by the train station, and I picked that for dinner.

I met an older couple, we shared dinner and two hours of great conversation, and then Jimmy said, in the thickest Scottish accent you can imagine, "Jeremy, I want you to know that I've thoroughly enjoyed talking to you for the past few hours," and I quickly said "As have I, Sir." "And I want to offer to pay for your dinner." me- "What huh?" I just sat there a minute, staring blankly at him. "I appreciate the gesture very much, but my grandfather would kick my butt if he thought I asked someone to pay for dinner." "Well, I was lying about the offer. I'm doing it." Then he screamed for the waiter- "Waiter! Waiter, come put his food on my bill. (To me- You've only had one glass of wine!) Bring him another glass of wine, too!" So, we sat and laughed and talked some more, and then I got back on the train. They were most gracious hosts for my time in Helensburgh. 

While I was walking around Helensburgh, no, I was basically hiking around this strange city; I was asking God for some company that night. It was an interesting paradox- I was with a group of people, but away from them; I was in a city, but knew no one. And although I met 20 people earlier that day, I didn't have the time to spend to really learn from them.  So I wanted to spend some time, and I was hoping that it would be over dinner, because that's a good way to spend a couple of hours.  I had eaten lunch that day in Glasgow by myself, so a meal with conversation would be a pleasant change. I was sort of starting to feel like the solitude was turning into loneliness. So I shared that with God, I would like to spend some time with other people tonight, and I had no idea what that would look like. I had no idea what a good restaurant was in Helensburgh, and when I walked into No. 28, I thought, "Maybe I should go..." After one look at the menu, my stomach said "WE'RE STAYING!" but my wallet said "...you sure? How much do you want to drink in SoHo?" and my brain said "there's one other person in here. What does that say about food quality?" and my legs said "man I'm tired. You want food somewhere else, you're going by yourself." 

Oh, and guess how much the train ticket was. 17 pounds. For 5pound more, I got to the other side of the country.

Then a RyanAir Flight to Dublin.  Next email, we'll meet Brandon, Angie, and Magnus. And we'll hear all about the adventures of Jeremy in Dublin. How much Guinness does he get? What records does he buy? AND DOES HE MEET BONO?? All this and more, on Jeremy + Alcohol + Dublin = Stalking Charges.