10 Days in Scotland: Part 1

Short history lesson for those who don’t know or have never seen The Tudors:  The Episcopal Church here in the United States (also apparently known as PECUSA) originates way back in the age of King Henry VIII.  He wanted to divorce his wife Catherine of Aragon and marry Anne Boleyn, but the Catholic Church wouldn’t allow that.  So good old King Henry decided to create his own church; the Church of England.   After the American Revolution, the Episcopal Clergy of Woodbury, Connecticut elected Samuel Seabury to become the first American Bishop.  He traveled to England, where he hoped to be consecrated.  He was denied, however, because as an American citizen, he could not swear an oath of allegiance to King George III.  The Scottish Episcopal Church, however, refused to recognize the authority of the King and was only too happy to consecrate an American.  Thus, in Aberdeen, Scotland, Samuel Seabury became the first American Bishop of the Episcopal Church.  To honor our heritage, the youth group out at my church took a Pilgrimage to Scotland last summer.  I was very privileged to be able to accompany them as a sponsor.   

The Chalice used at Bishop Seabury's Consecration. We all got to take Communion from it.

If I may, I’d like to begin this entry with a cliché.  The ten days I spent in Scotland were undoubtedly ten of the most magical days of my life.  In some ways, they were also ten of the most challenging days of my life.  But most of all, they were ten of the most enlightening days of my life.  (I’m beginning to feel like I’m quoting that weird book 50 Shades of Grey and I haven’t even read it).  

This picture really says it all.

 I learned that I can sit in an airplane for seven hours straight and not die.  That was a big one.  Flying has never been my favorite past time, which is odd because I love road trips.  I know my odds of dying in a car are a lot higher than those of dying in a plane, but I can jump out of a car.  I can’t jump out of a plane.  Well, yes I can.  But I won’t. 

I learned that I can eat foreign food and not die.  Anyone who knows me knows that I am not a very adventurous eater.  Not only am I excruciatingly wary of food I suspect of being undercooked, contaminated, or expired, I am also what my friend calls a “super-taster.”  In other words, I can’t eat anything spicier than french fries.  It was a really big day when I finally learned to enjoy chives on my baked potato.  Anyway, Scotland introduced me to a variety of new foods.

1. Scottish Breakfast: Eggs runny and sunny-side up, bacon (though cooked an entirely different way than American bacon), and Scottish hash browns (not sure what they’re called, but oh man, they were beyond delicious).  Scottish breakfasts come with beans, tomatoes, bread, and blood pudding also, but being the American girl that I am, the eggs, bacon, and hash browns were my favorite.  In fact, that breakfast was my very favorite thing to eat in Scotland.  I wish I could find it over here. 
2. Fish and Chips: Okay, you go to Europe, you have to try Fish and Chips.  Since our hostels provided all of our meals, however, I was a little worried that I wouldn’t get the opportunity to sample the legendary meal.  Fortunately, where there’s a will, there’s a way.  Day 5 or so found all of us in Inverness at the Highland Games.  The Games themselves were okay, but my sister and I definitely had more fun at the miniature carnival booths behind the, for lack of a better word, arena.  One of the very first booths was, you got it, a Fish and Chips vender!  We proceeded to “misplace” our brown-bag-hostel-provided lunches and purchased two large servings of fish and chips.  After slathering it in ketchup, we indulged, only to find that Fish and Chips actually tastes... exactly like American fried fish and french fries.  Later on, we were telling our priest about the experience and he asked us if we’d enjoyed the special vinegar or something like that.  As it turns out, that’s what really makes Fish and Chips.  My sister and I, in our eagerness, had completely overlooked it and in doing so, Americanized our would-be delightful European meal.  
3. Haggis: Believe it or not, I actually tried Haggis.  Again, you go to Scotland, you kind of have to.  I was shocked to discover that I actually enjoyed it.  The first time, anyway.  The second time, my stomach was so sick of hostel food that it was about ready to reject anything I tried to put in it. 

“Everything is cute in Scotland.”  From guys to cars to buildings to birds, everywhere we went, all of us girls found ourselves saying, “Oh my gosh!  He/that/it is so cute!”  Something I particularly loved was that I didn’t see one SUV or giant truck.  All of the cars are tiny and quaint.  

Gryffindor!

Slytherin!

A Writers Museum! How cool!

http://www.scotland-welcomes-you.com/greyfriars_bobby.html

Seagulls are literally everywhere in Scotland.  They also get very noisy at night and you’ll wake up in the middle of the night thinking that someone right outside your window is either laughing hysterically or being beaten to death (just for the record, Scotland is a very safe country).  

The watch you. Like this.

  *All photographs © copyright by Jacqueline E. Smith.