Flight of the Conchords Really Speaks to Me

Today was my last day in Edinburgh. This weekend I've felt like this quite a bit:

For your information, there's an inflammation in my tear gland.
My friends in Edinburgh have really been dabomb.com, and saying bye to them has been less than fun.


I've also already started to experience reverse culture shock, despite having only been out of Edinburgh for 6 hours. Dangerous stuff.

It started in the airport--I didn't even have to leave the country for it to start. We're buying food at the airport to eat quickly, and my dad says "I'm getting chips--do you want to get some?"
I'm immediately confused and a little annoyed with my dad's food choice, because I'm thinking of big fat french fries which are neither clean nor easy to eat when you're fighting your way through an airport.
Then my dad holds up a bag of potato chips.
Oh. My bad.

The second instance was near-fatal.
I go to cross a street in Paris, look to the right, and cross to the median.
One small problem: cars drive on the right side of the road here, not the left.
Oops. Good thing no cars were coming.

Hopefully I've learned that lesson and will get home alive, or else my mom might kill me.

Belgian Waffles = The One That Got Away

If you've spoken to me in the last week, chances are you've heard about Saturday, 26 November 2011, my incredible and never-to-be-repeated day of FOOD PERFECTION. Everything I ate was insanely delicious--quite easily the best of each food I've ever eaten or ever will eat in my life.  I kid you not, this was the closest there will ever be to Food Nirvana. This day of Food Perfection was brought to you by:

Belgium

Last weekend I got an almost-free trip to Brussels for training at the EU, sponsored by the Scottish National Party. (Just one more reason Scotland is great.) Belgium's a nice place, though there's not much to see. The food, however, makes it all worth it. Here's how my day of absolute Food Perfection went down.

10:00- Wake up, because I'm on vacation baby.

11:15- Food perfection begins. 

If you see this sign, STOP. This place is your friend.

On the way to the train station we stopped at a little bakery called Lowy and picked up my first Belgian waffle. Now you may be thinking to yourself, as I was, "what's so special about Belgian waffles? I can just make these in my waffle maker at home." If you're thinking that, you're absolutely wrong.

So I get this waffle, and it's a little hard and there's nothing on it. Naturally, I expect it to be kind of bland and possibly tough. Boy was I wrong. I take a bite into this thing, and my mouth is in absolute ecstasy. The hard exterior has a nice crunch, and the inside basically melts in my mouth. But wait, there's more! Inside of the waffle are small sugar crystals that sweeten it just the right amount to give it flavour without being overpowering. My mouth could not believe that something this great was going on inside of it.

2:00- Arrive in Bruges, an adorable Flemish town. Spend the afternoon in the Christmas market. Experience Parts 2, 3, and 4 of Food Perfection.

My crazy travel buddies. In Bruges.

Part 2- A Bratwurst from a stand in the Christmas market with carmelised onions on top. Not only were the onions divine, but when I bit into the casing on the bratwurst, the inside literally fell apart in my mouth in an aromatic swirl of spices and insanely tender meat. SO. GOOD.

Part 3- Bought a cup of hot chocolate. Easily the best cup of hot chocolate I've ever had-- creamy, frothy, Belgian chocolate, enough said.

Part 4- Another Belgian waffle, because one clearly wasn't enough. There were no sugar crystals inside, but it was topped in strawberries and chocolate, and the waffle melted in my mouth. Divine. 

If you couldn't tell, I'm kind of obsessed with Belgian Waffles. Maybe I ate 4 in less than 48 hours, maybe I didn't, but when it's that delicious it can't be bad for me, right? It's okay to fall madly in love when you're on holiday in a foreign country, even if food is the object of your affection. I don't see anything wrong with that.

FOOD PERFECTION COMPLETE.

I can now die in peace.

The only other food or drink I had that day was a bottle of Disney's Happy Kids sparkling apple juice given to me as a joke by friend and intern wannabe, Paul, who finds my non-alcoholic ways strange and amusing. Maybe not perfection, but still a tasty and entertaining gesture.

This isn't Paul-- this is Iain, my pal and de facto Belgium mom since he was the only one who had a clue where he was going.

This is Paul.

And this basically sums up the rest of Belgium.

I Never Realised Being Locked in a Tower Could Be So Lame

Remember this key? The key to my flat?

Remember how I loved it? Remember how cool I thought it was for being an old-fashioned skeleton key?

Well, the honeymooning period between us is long past. It's over for us. And here's why.

One day I'm sitting at home. One of my roommates is in Barcelona, and the other had left earlier that morning for London. Out of habit, she locked the door on her way out. Now, under most circumstances, this wouldn't be a problem. But I can't live under normal circumstances, can I?

So I go to try and unlock the door. The key won't turn. I try over and over again. It still won't turn.

My key decided to teach me the hard way that it can do everything it's supposed to do except one minor, tiny wee thing.

It can't unlock my door from the inside.

Piece. Of. Junk.

So I start considering my options: 

I call my landlady. She's in Dubai.

I look out the window, but decide that scaling the wall from 3 stories up is not the best idea.

Remember that scene in Cinderella when the evil step-mother locks her in her room? With the big skeleton key just like mine?

That's what it felt like.

Unfortunately, I don't have Gus-Gus and that other mouse to come save me from my tower. I'm just glad I had enough food to last me a few days, just in case.

Then I remember: I have friends. More importantly, I have friends with cars who will be driving into Edinburgh that night. If I get one of them to stop by my flat on the way to our church activity, I can hand them the key through the mail slot, they can unlock the door, and then drive me to the church, saving me from my tower and from a £1.30 bus fare. WIN-WIN. So I text my friend, and in the meantime I try to entertain myself.

Nothing like calling my animal friends to pass the time.

So finally the time comes, and my friend comes by my flat, I pass him the key, and he frees me from my prison and drives me to the church.

My hero.

Here's a display of his manliness:

       

I don't even know how this got started. Or why.

Suffice it to say, my key and I are finished. I've replaced it with a similar but far superior key that actually unlocks my door from the inside. To my key, I quote Beyonce, my unashamed woman-crush: 

"I can have another you in a minute. . . .

Don't you ever for a second get to thinking your irreplaceable." (Note the proper use of ellipses, thank you.)

And I know I always wish my life was a Disney movie. But karma, out of all the awesome Disney princesses, you had to pick Cinderella? Who ever wanted to be Cinderella?? I mean really.

"...And This Is Our Government?"

What do you have when a bunch of drunk Scots get together in the Highlands?

This.

This weekend I went to Inverness, capital of the Highlands, for the annual SNP Conference. It was good times when all you had to do was yell "independence!" or "Scotland!" to get everyone cheering.  Then there was some good awkward clapping to the beat for far too long when they would play this treasure of a song:

All in all, it was a fascinating weekend. I learned a ton about Scotland and its political values and why Scotland really should become independent (they have a ton of resources and get almost nothing back, to name one thing). But most of all, I learned that karaoke nights with the SNP are great fun.

 

This guy, a Member of Scottish Parliament
(MSP), dressed up in an Elvis costume for his
performance. It was perfect.

This guy, another MSP, did a hilarious screaming rendition of
 Should I Stay or Should I Go, complete with ridiculous
old-school dance moves. He got a standing O.

Both of these guys work on my floor. I will never look at them the same way again. PARLIAMENT ROCKS.

On a whim, I sang R-E-S-P-E-C-T by Aretha Franklin in honor of the interns. I think it worked, because a staffer who previously tried (and failed) to make me bring him food promised to bring me ice cream next week. Look who's doing the slave labor now! WIN.

And to end the night on an interesting note, I got hit on by a drunk guy who thought my outfit made me look like a Nazi. Then he told me it looked good on me. I'm not sure whether I should be more worried that I looked like a Nazi or that he found that attractive. He really knows how to win a girl over.

Most importantly, though, I got a foot-long tube of digestives for a pound, which in case you're unaware, is an AWESOME deal. Good weekend.

Roman Holiday meets Angels & Demons meets Ben-Hur

I was in Italy for the last week, and I felt like I was in a movie. 3 movies, to be specific.

Movie #1: Roman Holiday
If you're unfamiliar with this movie, it's a classic film starring Audrey Hepburn as a princess who runs away for a day, meets Gregory Peck, and has a spectacular Roman Holiday. As my name is only 3 letters different from hers, and as I was in Rome, I naturally couldn't help comparing my experience with this movie. While there was no Gregory Peck, there was a second Audrey, my roommate, which for all the boys out there is even better, am I right?

I didn't run from the cops, swim in the river, or get a really short haircut, but I did eat tons of gelato,  see the Spanish Steps, and put my hand in the Mouth of Truth.

This photo from the movie brings us to our next movie.

In the background of this photo is the Castle Sant'Angelo, which features prominently in:

Movie #2: Angels and Demons

If you've seen Angels and Demons, you probably recognize this building from the seriously epic shots they did with it. That's right, I went there.

I also saw the Pantheon, which Robert Langdon mistakes for the first part of the Illuminati trail.

On top of that, I went to the Vatican-- saw the Sistine Chapel, statues castrated by popes, St. Peter's Square, the works.

Oh, who's that in the background?

Oh yeah, the Pope. NBD.

Movie #3: Ben-Hur

Ben-Hur is one of the great epic films of Charlton Heston, which is about a Jew in the Roman Empire. In it there's a seriously awesome chariot race, one of those scenes that makes me lament that they just don't make movies like this anymore. If you want to watch it:

I naturally thought of this scene when I saw the Circus Maximus.

Conclusion: My Roman Holiday was totally better than Audrey Hepburn's, not only because I saw WAY more than she did, but I also got to hang out with a real Roman who taught me an Italian card game on the train. WIN.

Insert Bagpipe Music Here

So you know how in Braveheart (edited, of course!) there are all sorts of awesome Highlands shots? Well, last time I watched that movie, I got really excited. And do you know why? BECAUSE I'VE BEEN THERE.

BAM. HIGHLANDS.

I'm officially obsessed. The Highlands are absolutely gorgeous.

So here's how it went down.
8am, meet outside of Haggis Adventures, the tour group we used. (They're fun and cheap-- I'd recommend using them if you're ever in Scotland.)


This is our tour bus. Need I say more?

First stop: Hamish, the Hairy Coo.

He's just a big, hairy cow of a breed indigenous to Scotland.

Next stop, Glencoe, which I've heard from multiple sources may be the most beautiful part of Scotland.

This is the way in.



This is purple heather, like from that Rod Stewart song.

It was absolutely breathtaking. No place quite like it.

For the next hour or so of our trip, I saw 3 rainbows. Because Scotland is magical.

1,

2,

3.

This last was taken at our next stop, Loch Ness.
I saw the monster, but unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of him. Which is really too bad, because I would be loaded right now if I had.
But, I did see get pictures of a canal in action! Which is about as rare as the Loch Ness Monster.



The Caledonian Canal.

But here are some Loch Ness pictures I did get:

Scotland has the coolest clouds EVER.

     
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Utah shout-out!



This is where the Loch Ness Monster tried to escape.

On our way back from Loch Ness, we stopped at a couple notable little sight, such as this one:


Too good to pass up.

But really, it was a nice little memorial.

And lastly, here are a few epic shots from our travels home.

Sideways rain over purple heather. SERIOUSLY so Scottish.



And a sneak shot of a man in a kilt.

 All in all, a very good day.