Scotland, so freaking epic
Klaus JonesOctober 16th, 2009 at 5:30 am
Holy Jesus Scotland was huge. Absolutely massive. 5 solid days of partying – some of the best fun I’ve had in my life. I’ll start from the beginning though – some would say lacking originality; I would say a stroke of brilliance on my part.
Arriving in Edinburgh late afternoon we made our way to the hostel – easier than it sounds as we had no real directions beyond ‘get to the castle, it’s right next to it’. Once there we were informed of a free, hostel run pub crawl starting shortly. And this is where everything begins.
Over the next 6 days, from that Thursday till Wednesday 1am – 6 days, 139 hours – I got 9 hours sleep. The remainder of the time was spent partying, sightseeing, partying, drinking, partying, doing stupid shit. Absolutely insane.
So, it started with aforementioned hostel run pub crawl. Karaoke, various clubs, culminating in a marathon pool session with a twist. As the pool table was free of charge, the challenger wouldn’t have to pay to play the winner – instead, the winner would receive a free drink. 26 games without losing later (I play better when I’m drunk, and I wouldn’t call the competition skilled), the first night ended. I by no means consumed 26 drinks, god no. I gave most of them away, cause I’d be fucked after 10 let alone 26.
2 hours sleep later, Dickie and I head off to start our 3 day Haggis Skye High tour. The tour would take us to many of the famous places of the Scottish Highlands, accompanied by our Scottish tour guide Joe who provided history, commentary and personal insights on most of them. However, Joe thought most of the places we were visiting were ‘SHYTE!’, and we quickly ditched our itinerary in favour of his route.
Joe pretty much made the tour, his thick and often unintelligible Scottish accent and crazy behaviour livening any activity – from encouraging, nay promoting, drinking on the bus, to teaching us traditional Scottish dancing on top of a windswept crag, the man was just entertaining.
After a night (and morning) of partying on the shores of Loch Ness in Fort Augustus we continued touring around, seeing the castle Eilean Donan Kintail (from Highlander) amongst other things. One high point (literally) was Quiraing, a windswept plateau high in the Trotternish Ridge. The wind there was so strong that there was a warning advising parents to hold onto children. It really was staggeringly strong, making it a nerve wracking venture to approach the edge and look at the view for fear of being blown off. It was there, in the lee of the bus, that Joe taught us the Scottish Country Dance (after we’d all had some whiskey of course). Needless to say, bloody hilarious.
That night we returned to Fort Augustus for another night of revelry, this time involving (for me at least) a quick dip in Loch Ness after a few brewskies. Shit it was cold – thats what you get swimming at night. We also had the pleasure of being given a history lesson of Scotland, spoiled somewhat by belligerent Americans (from another tour bus) being fuckwits and getting kicked out – returning later to break a window. Still, the wankerish yanks were the minority; the remainder were pretty bloody awesome – some had managed to sneak a bottle of vodka into the pub we were at and were sneaking shots in the toilets.
After that bar closed and kicked us out, and the next bar only allowed us to buy some roadies and kicked us out again. So, we ended up at Morags (the place from the night before), a hostel/bar which technically should have closed as well. However, the owner was pretty trashed, so kept the bar and music running all night. By the end of the night I was behind the bar, handing out drinks to all fellow tour-goers. Massive night, over £100 of free drinks hahah
The next and last day of the tour we saw the castle from Monty Python’s Holy Grail french taunting scene, kissed a Highland Cow named Hamish and climbed up the William Wallace memorial tower. Once back in Edinburgh however, we organised for most of the tour group to come together for a pub crawl that night. Drinking early into the morning, with the aid of a Jäger train and a devilish drink called Irn-Bru; an energy drink loaded with caffeine, sugar, taurine and quinne, a mild pain killer. One of them kept me going for a damn long time, definitely worth the £1.50
Monday dawned, 4 days awake, starting the 5th, with roughly 6 hours sleep. Brilliant. After yet another free walking tour (I keep pushing these cause they really are damn good) and some ambling around Edinburgh, we climbed to the highest peak in Holyrood park to watch the sunset. Then, off to the pub! We’d found a place which had live music, covers mainly, and chilled there for a bit listening to a bit of CCR, Men at Work and other classics. We also found, to Dickies delight, that they served Bundy Rum! After knocking a couple of them back (not for me, bundy burn no thanks) we went on our own little pub crawl, ending up at a heavy metal karaoke club…that was interesting. My body was starting to crash, so I wasn’t too opposed when we had an early night, crashing out at 5 or so.
8 am the next day we’re up and getting ready to catch our train back out of Scotland. Dickie, slightly more rested, managed this task readily enough and headed off to breakfast with a mate, while I staggered through showering and packing. Ran into a fellow Croatia Cruise-er while doing so and caught up with him a bit, which was pretty cool.
Catching the train was almost an adventure in itself, with Steve leaving it to literally the last seconds to arrive at the station, meet up with me, and find out seats. He had the tickets too, so I couldn’t have bailed even if I’d wanted to hahah.
And so ends the epicness that was Scotland. By the Tuesday of our train back to London I’d spent more time partying and drinking than I had sleeping or sightseeing, eaten huge amounts of haggis and met some amazing people. Oh, and experienced all the ‘liquid sunshine’ I ever want to 