I had two goals when I woke up on the morning of 16 May:
1) Get to the top of Arthur's Seat.
2) Don't die.
Climbing Arthur's Seat had been a goal of mine ever since an acquaintance posted her own pictures after climbing it. The view of Edinburgh from the top looked far too good to miss, so good that I was willing to travel thousands of miles just to be able to sit atop Arthur's Seat and look out at it for myself. Well, there I was, in Edinburgh, looking at Arthur's Seat from my hotel room window (Masson House offers an excellent view and easy access to the mountain, which is technically a hill, but certainly looks like a mountain), with my boots laced up, my raincoat on, and my camera ready. Nothing was going to stop me from getting to the top. After a short walk and a couple of turnarounds as I encountered locked gates, I finally made it to the park and got my first up-close-and-personal look at the rocky peaks I intended to climb. I looked around, decided that the majority of the other visitors seemed to all be taking the same route, and started up after them.
The first thing that I quickly discovered was that one does not have to get all the way to the top to be rewarded with some stunning views of Edinburgh.
I was only about halfway up when I took this. Quite a reward for half the work!
Given that I didn't have a map (I highly recommend trying to find one if you intend to make the climb), I ended up turning around several times as I hit dead ends on various paths. I began to wonder if I was ever going to make it to the top. I stopped for several breaks and wished that I had thought to bring some water (that really was a stupid idea). I was rained on twice as I searched for a way up to the top. Tired from all the walking and climbing, I even considered being satisfied with the views I'd been able to enjoy and making my way back down, but several bouts of self-pep-talking convinced me that I hadn't come all that way just to turn around halfway up the mountain. Finally, I found a spot where many people were climbing up to the top. It was rocky and uneven; there was no path and certainly no railing to help me up, but I was determined to get to the top, so I followed several other groups and we all began to climb together. A few more breaks were required, but, finally, I was standing at the very top, with a stone marker nearby to reassure me that, yes, I had really made it. Relieved, elated, and probably rather high on endorphins, I asked one of the people who I had been following on the climb up if he would take my picture, happily handing over my prized DSLR for the sake of immortalizing this moment.
Victory is mine! Sucks to your ass-mar!
Look carefully and you'll see the castle!
Despite the fact that I was hailed on twice in the few minutes I was up there (really, don't let that sun fool you), the view from the top was everything I hoped it would be. Here, again, just like in the Highlands a couple of days earlier, was the gorgeous deep green of Scotland, this time dotted with buildings, ranging from office buildings to a castle. There were other mountains as well, and a quick glance down revealed people who looked like ants, as well as thick blankets of the beautiful yellow gorse for which Scotland is renowned. I was so excited to finally be up on top of Arthur's Seat that I called my mother for yet another "Guess where I am right now?" despite the fierce winds buffeting me from every angle. The signal was choppy and the call dropped several times in the face of the strange location and wild winds, but I think my point eventually got across the thousands of miles separating us. Once again, I was struck by just how far away I was from home, and how at home I felt despite that distance. There was something wonderful about the UK that just made me feel welcome and comfortable wherever I went. Maybe it was the English signs, the accents, or that soothing Scottish green.
That gorgeous gorse...
After spending a little while longer resting at the top, I discovered a much easier way down, which involved no rock-climbing and would take me right down to a paved road. I considered it my reward for persevering and fighting my way up, and gladly descended the steep incline, leaving the peak behind me. I was more grateful than ever for the fact that I had made the climb without injuring or completely exhausting myself when an emergency vehicle went screaming up the hill at my side, aiming for a fallen climber who hadn't even made it to the top. As I walked down the winding road to get back to the bottom of the hill and back to my hotel, I paused momentarily on a bench to write a celebratory entry in my journal. I had wanted to write from the peak, but it had simply been too windy to manage, so I had to settle for a slightly lower spot.
Very tired, but pleased with my success, I decided that mountain-climbing was enough of an activity for one day and popped over to the local Tesco, which was only a ten-minute walk or so away from my hotel. For the first time in more than a week, I was able to indulge in a hot meal, because of the microwaves that the hotel Pantry provided. I decided to make it as much of a traditional Scottish supper as I could manage while making sure that I only ate clearly labelled foods, and here is what I ended up with that evening...
Haggis, tatties, and neeps (haggis, potatoes, and swede, a yellow turnip), an Irn-Bru (addicted already), and some Scottish shortbread, enjoyed in my hotel room
It might not have been a high-class meal, or even real pub food, but it was plenty satisfying for a hungry, allergy-afflicted traveller who hadn't tasted a hot meal in so long! I spent the rest of the evening happily watching television (NCIS: Los Angeles had become a favourite by then) and eating snacks from Tesco in my big, comfy bed--not at all a bad way to finish off a tiring day.
15 May was mostly a transit day. I enjoyed a thoroughly filling breakfast at the West End Hotel--if you want to understand what a full Scottish breakfast looks like, this is the place to find one--and packed up what few things I had taken out of my luggage the night before. I had one last look at the little town as I walked to the train station, and, soon enough, I was on a train to Edinburgh. No first class carriage on this one, but the chance to spend four more hours admiring the scenery more than made up for the lack of an especially comfortable seat. I didn't take more pictures on this train ride, but I can assure you that I spent those happy hours being treated to the same kind of forests, mountains, rivers, and valleys that had captured my imagination the previous day. I also took advantage of the fact that I had a table to write out the postcards that I had picked up at the Tower of London for my friends back home, and enjoyed another Irn-Bru, for which I was already developing cravings.
We arrived in Glasgow--where I would return a couple of days later--a little after 3pm, and I changed over to a train to Edinburgh, where I did get to enjoy first class seating as I was whisked through more countryside, much flatter than the Highlands but still just as pretty. Arriving in Edinburgh, I looked at the multiple bags I was now dragging behind me--oh, those souvenirs--and decided to indulge in a taxi rather than trying to get all of my luggage onto a bus. I harbor a certain degree of animosity toward people who try to take public transit with luggage that they can barely manage, and I wasn't about to become one myself. Soon, I arrived at Masson House, which was to become my favourite hotel of the whole trip. It had started to rain, and was glad that I had decided to take a taxi, because the hotel, which I believe used to serve as student housing, is somewhat hidden among several other buildings and set back from the road, and I doubt I would have arrived in any condition other than sopping wet if I had tried to take a bus and walk to it.
I checked in and went up to get settled into my room, which I loved from the moment I stepped into it. Add a kitchen to it, and it very well could be a little apartment. I had a proper closet, a desk, and nightstands with drawers, as well as a flat screen television mounted on the wall in front of the bed, which pretty much set me up as well as I could have wanted. I also discovered that I could use a space called the "Pantry" at the end of the hall, which was basically a lounge/kitchen crossover, and which was thrilling to me, seeing as I had not been able to have a hot supper for more than a week. My Tesco suppers were all very good--there was even a Tesco in Fort William, to my delight--and I was very grateful to be able to have something to eat that was fully labelled to prove that it wasn't going to kill me, but the prospect of something other than a sandwich was tantalizing. As it was, I'd brought some food from the Tesco in Fort William just in case I wasn't able to find anything on my first night in Edinburgh, so I was set for the moment.
Given that it was a Friday and I wanted to get my postcards sent out before the weekend, the last thing I did on the 15th was find my way to the nearest post office. It might be a simple thing, but it was an experience in itself. Walking in my nondescript black coat through the light rain, my luggage left safely behind at the hotel, and doing something as everyday as sending some letters gave me a sense of what it might be like to live in a place like Edinburgh. Until I opened my mouth to talk to the lady at the counter and my accent made my Canadianness obvious, there was nothing to distinguish me from any normal person from Edinburgh going about her day, running some last errands before the post office closed. My postcards got dotted with the Scottish rain as I affixed stamps and air mail stickers, so all of my friends got some tiny part of Scotland back home!
This little errand taken care of, I went back to Masson House, noting the main street I crossed along the way, and settled in to watch some TV and have my supper. I really can't say enough good things about Masson House. It might be a little out of the way, but it's plenty close enough to everything if you're willing to walk a bit or take public transit, and the accommodations are impressive for the price. It boasted the best water pressure I'd had for the past week, although it was a little interesting to use a shower that was literally composed of a shower head and a curtain attached to a metal U in the ceiling. You don't even need your own soap and shampoo if you're not worried about using any products on your skin, because they provide ample bottles of a very nice-smelling soap/shampoo combo. The beds are comfortable, the breakfast is fantastic and features goodies like haggis and fried mushrooms in addition to the standard fare of cereal, fruit, and yogourt, the rooms are very clean, and it definitely feels safe, with multiple electronic locks on the way to your room. Exactly what I needed and worth every penny! Needless to say, I was a happy camper as I went to sleep for the night, looking out my window at the grassy hump of Arthur's Seat and thinking about what it would be like to climb it the next day.
My longtime dream of sleeping on a train fulfilled, I woke up on 14 May, went to my window, and promptly started losing my mind over the view. At just after seven in the morning, we were just passing Arrochar and Tarbet Station, which is so small and out of the way that, according to the National Rail Enquiries, it doesn't even have an address, just a postal code. If you know me, you know that I prefer places that can pretty much only be identified by GPS coordinates, and so you can imagine how excited I was to be gliding through a place so rugged and remote. My hastily scribbled journal entry can probably capture my feelings at that moment better than I currently can.
"WOW! Okay, this is why I took the train. We're definitely in Scotland now. I've seen sheep! And horses! And now gorgeous rocky hills and rivers. [...] And people get to live here? It's beautiful. So green and rugged-looking, with Gaelic on the station signs. Lots of lakes and rivers, too, and sheep just wandering around on the hillsides. Absolutely fantastic and exactly what I was hoping for."
12 hours later, sitting in my room at the West End Hotel in Fort William, I still hadn't gotten over it.
"I'm not sure if I was just in Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Grimm's Fairy Tales, or all three of them. Those landscapes were the stuff of dreams. [...] One minute everything is brown and rocky and unforgiving-looking, and the next minute you're looking out at lush green pastures dotted with fluffy white sheep. Then, it's back to the mountains and rocks. Then, beautiful, crystal blue water. And then more sheep. Lots of sheep."
Just in case you think I might have been overreacting to some grass and rocks, let me give you just a taste of what I was witnessing through my cabin window. When I stepped out to admire things through the hallway windows, I ran into a very nice lady from Shanghai, who was named Jade, and we agreed that the rapid changes in the scenery were amazing. Feel free to click the pictures below to see them in full-size glory.
Look at the clouds just barely kissing the top of the mountains.
From grass and rivers to rock and snow.
And then back to something in between.
We arrived in Fort William right on time, and any fears I had had about getting lost and not being able to find my hotel were quickly dispelled when I discovered that the train station and the hotel sat at opposite ends of the one main street. I revelled in the little bits of Gaelic that I caught from the people around me, though it was sometimes hard to tell if they were actually speaking Gaelic or if it was just heavily accented English! (Yes, I fangirled over the heavy Scottish accents of the hotel staff when they welcomed me, too.) Fort William is a picturesque little riverside town if there ever was one. Looking out at the horizon, there are just mountains piled on top of mountains, reaching up into the clouds, and the streets are lined with little shops selling all kinds of Scottish souvenirs. It also happens to be at the end of the West Highland Way, a long walking trail stretching 154 kilometres.
The monument that stands to mark the end
of the West Highland Way
You see what I mean about it being picturesque?
You're pretty much surrounded by these rocky peaks in Fort William.
Not the greatest picture, but I just had to get one with the mountains!
I guess that my raving over the landscape is understandable, considering that I didn't give myself very much time to come down from the first dose of intoxicating Scottish beauty before I subjected myself to a second and even more powerful one. Having dropped off my luggage, I walked back across town to catch the 12:12pm train to Mallaig. Mallaig is a little tiny place that smells tantalizingly of fish and chips (forbidden to this fish-allergic traveller) and whose main tourist attraction is the ferry to Skye (which I wasn't able to take this time around, sadly), so why would I want to spend my first day in Scotland hanging around there? Well, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.
Yes, ladies and gentleman, that is, in fact, the famous Glenfinnan Viaduct, featured in the flying Ford Anglia scene in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Seeing this, really being on this structure, was one of the major highlights of the entire trip. While I didn't get to actually ride the Jacobite (the "Hogwarts Express") because my arrival in Fort William didn't sync up with the Jacobite's departures, I had no regrets. Riding a regular train was probably better, as far as I could tell, because it was far less crowded and I had ample room to take pictures without getting 15 other people's heads and hands in my shot. The viaduct wasn't the only breathtaking thing I got to see as I rode this last bit of the West Highland Line, known as one of the most beautiful rail journeys in the world.
I was so, so pleased and overwhelmed by the beauty of what I was looking at through my window. Looking at what I wrote in my journal later that night, it's clear to me that the experience really inspired me to write something meaningful.
"The landscape [from Fort William to Mallaig and back] was even more beautiful than what I had seen coming in on the Sleeper. Huge mountains, huge blue lakes, an ancient-looking church sitting in the middle of nowhere, lush green carpets of moss covering rocks and logs in thick forests that really looked like somewhere the Fellowship of the Ring might have camped for the night... it was stunning, absolutely stunning, and it was entirely possible to imagine Hogwarts castle hiding somewhere in among all the mountains and valleys, entirely possible to imagine Harry on Buckbeak's back, soaring over the rivers and then out of sight behind a mountain. [...] Overall, the whole thing was magical, really magical. Looking out the window was like standing with my three favourite magical folk on a Hogwarts balcony, looking out at the school grounds. I'll bet JKR rode the West Highland Line at some point in her life, or, at least, the people who picked the filming locations must have. There's something just so ancient and, again, for lack of a better word, magical about the snow-capped mountains rising up into the clouds, the deep valleys, the little waterfalls tumbling down the sides of rocky outcroppings, and the forests fit for fairies. I wouldn't want to spend a night alone out there, no sir. I'd be too afraid of some kind of goblin or werewolf creeping up on me! [...] I really hope the pictures turned out so I can keep at least a little bit of that magical beauty with me. I'm still stunned. Scotland really is as beautiful as I imagined."
Words really cannot describe the feeling of seeing the Scottish landscape for the first time, though, as evidenced above, I did try to use a lot of them to capture it as best I could. I spent hours upon hours on trains on the 14th and 15th, and not once did I tire of looking out the window or wish that I had brought a book (well, another book--I'd finished Wolf on the Sleeper). I could ride from Fort William to Edinburgh (a five hour journey) again in a heartbeat, just to see it all one more time and feel that sense of wonder and connection with the land again. I cannot recommend the Highlands highly enough to anyone who has had even the vaguest notion of visiting. Get there. Take a train. Take it all in. You won't regret it.
Oh, and, as a side note, I took it upon myself to experience a little Scottish culture while I waited for my train back from Mallaig! This stuff tastes like drinking orange-flavoured corn syrup, is absolutely delicious, and became a staple for me in the rest of my Tesco suppers in Scotland.
Let me say, it was weird to leave my room at the Hotel Orlando for the last time. I was excited for one last big day in London, of course, and for the sleeper journey to which I'd looked forward for so long, but, after a week, my simple little hotel room was really starting to feel like home. Staying alone in a hotel room had been an experience in and of itself for me. I had never travelled alone before--at least not to anywhere especially far away from home, and not to a hotel--and my room was like a tiny bachelor(ette) pad, with the perks of also having someone clean the room and make me breakfast! I was comfortable with the area, could easily get around, and had become familiar with the local Tesco and all of my favourite foods there, and so, while I was excited to start the next phase of my trip, it was still a bit sad to say goodbye to my room and, at the end of the day, to London.
I'll never forget you, little hotel room!
My first stop was Euston Station, where I dropped my bag off in Left Luggage so that I could enjoy my last day in London without dragging my suitcase around behind me. Then, the anticipation building in my stomach, I popped over to King's Cross and finally laid eyes on the Mecca of Harry Potter fans. Platform 9 3/4 is really just half of a luggage cart attached to a wall, to simulate the magical barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 (even though it isn't really between platforms at all), but it holds so much meaning for anyone who's fallen in love with the Potter series that it seems like much more than its simple parts. I was surprised, and delighted, to discover that the vast majority of people standing in line to get their picture taken at the Platform were adults. My people! I'd been afraid of being made to feel self-conscious as I stood in line, towering over a bunch of elementary-school kids and trying to hide my face from passersby, so it was a happy relief to see other adults who had all risked the same situation to honour their love of Harry Potter.
I got three pictures taken at the Platform, proudly sporting the Ravenclaw scarf to represent my House, and later purchased two of the pictures, which remain prized possessions, and might end up on this blog someday if I can get them scanned. I also acquired yet more souvenirs at the shop where the pictures are processed. How was I supposed to resist? I now have in my possession another prized object: a licensed replica of Hermione Granger's wand. There was no way I was going anywhere without one of those. Hermione was, and remains, one of my fictional idols. Of course, at this point, I was starting to have serious concerns about my ability to fit all of these new things into my luggage, and vowed (as evidenced by my journal entry for this day) to stick to smaller items from then on.
Having revelled in Potter fan glory, I moved on to the nearby British Library, to revel in even more literary glory! Pictures were impossible, but I spent a long time admiring just a fraction of what the Library holds. In the free exhibit, I was able to see some of da Vinci's notebooks, Shakespeare's First Folio, a portion of the original Beowulf manuscript (burned at the edges), and some of the original Well-Tempered Clavier. There were also maps and sheet music, and some gorgeous illuminated manuscripts. One of my favourite pieces was Jane Austen's writing desk. I stared at it for a long time, overwhelmed by the thought of some of the world's greatest literature being written on that little piece of wood with a bit of leather on it. It was amazing to me to know that that was being kept safe and preserved--it's just as precious as a sarcophagus or the Rosetta Stone, in my opinion.
On my way out of the British Library, I stopped to take advantage of the free WiFi, and had a fun encounter with a very nice elderly man, who turned out to be a fellow Canadian, from Toronto. We both laughed when we realized that we were both Canadian, and I helped him figure out how to get the WiFi to work on his iPhone before going on my way and taking the Tube to the British Museum. I explored the Enlightenment Room, which I chose because it contains pieces from many different historical periods, so I thought that it would be a good taste of the collection. On the left there is a second-century bust of Minerva, sporting armour made in 1783. There were lots of other interesting things to see, big and small, ranging from pots and plates to old coins and figurines. There were also some interesting scientific instruments from the Enlightenment period, with which I was somewhat familiar due to having studied that period extensively in my Liberal Arts program at CEGEP. Given my love of science and technology, I found those to be especially fascinating to look at, because it's wonderful to think about people using just those sorts of instruments to make discoveries and solidify the theories that form the foundation of our scientific worldview today.
A view of the beautiful Enlightenment room, at a bit of a weird angle because
I was trying to avoid getting everybody's faces in the frame.
I also looked at a bit of the Roman Britain collection, but I was getting pretty tired by then, so I didn't spend very much longer in the museum. I headed back to Euston station, four hours early for my train! Well, not much I could do about it when boarding only started at 8:30pm and I didn't have a hotel room to return to anymore. Finally, after a long wait on several uncomfortable chairs, and the purchase of a book to keep me occupied--Wolf by Mo Hayder--I was able to board the train I'd be dreaming of for months. I'm cheating a bit by including these pictures of the interior of my cabin on the Caledonian Sleeper, because I actually took them the next morning, seeing as it was too dark by the time I boarded, but oh well, it's my blog and I'll cheat if I want to!
All of the controls one might need--temperature,
lights, and a button to call an attendant. There's also
a sink hidden in the counter under the window, but my
only picture is a bit too blurry to include.
The comfy bed, already slept in (sorry).
Probably a bit small for anyone used to a bigger bed,
but I sleep on a twin at home, so no big deal for me.
My cabin was pretty much what I'd expected, which meant that it was plenty comfortable for a solo traveller who doesn't need much space. Being a first class passenger, I had a "sleep kit" bestowed upon me, which contained a sleep mask, socks, a small towel, and pillow spray, among other things. The pillow spray smelled lovely, but I was wary of actually using it on my pillow (sensitive skin). I had intended to walk around a bit and maybe even have something to eat in the lounge car, which is famous for its leather sofas, but I was pretty tired and really just wanted to stay in my cabin and read, so I settled into bed with my book and watched as the darkened landscape of London slipped away. Stay tuned for some glimpses of the majesty of the Scottish landscape that I was able to see when I woke up!
12 May was the first of many days spent zipping around the UK on a train. In all honesty, train rides were one of the things about which I was the most excited when I was planning my trip. I know that that probably sounds silly, considering all of the wonderful and iconic things I was going to see while I was in London and Scotland, but train rides have always held a special place in my heart. Taking the train is my favourite way to travel, hands down. It's so much more comfortable and relaxed than flying or driving (well, riding in a car, anyway, in my case), and you really get to appreciate the scenery while you travel, since rail lines are usually routed through more rural areas. You can kick back and read a book, or simply look out the window and enjoy watching the world go by. In my humble opinion, Canada seriously needs to catch up with the UK when it comes to railroads ASAP.
But, I've slipped over onto another--ha, ha--train of thought, so let's bring it back around to my first day outside of London. I decided to start small, with a day trip to Oxford. Seeing Oxford has always been a dream of mine, both because it's an ancient, gorgeous place with a rich history and because the university served as the setting for multiple scenes in the Harry Potter movies (have I mentioned that I'm a huge Harry Potter fan? Yes? Okay). I left fairly early in the morning, right after breakfast, and took the Tube to Paddington station, where I caught the train out to Oxford. My BritRail pass made all of this very easy, because I didn't have to worry about getting on the train at a certain time, or using a certain service, or anything else. I just showed my pass when the next train to Oxford arrived, and happily plunked myself down in First Class. For this ride, First Class meant that I got to sit in a slightly more spacious car, and I ended up getting a set of four seats (the kind that face one another) to myself, because the car was pretty empty. The seats weren't much fancier than normal seats, minus the small doily-like white covers that they put on the back of each one, presumably so everyone got a fresh place to rest their head. Here's a short video that I took on the ride. There isn't much to see except for some nice countryside, but I love the cabin noise. It's so soothing, which is one of the reasons I love trains.
Once we arrived at Oxford station, I walked up to the university campus, which was a bit of a walk, but nothing like the couple of treks I'd already put myself through in London. From the moment I got outside, I knew I was going to like the place. It really does look like you've gone back in time. I could see some of the colleges in the distance, and they looked like castles rising up over the other buildings. I didn't realize just how big the campus was really going to be! I actually only saw a couple of the buildings. You could definitely make more than a day trip out of Oxford if you wanted to. Here's just one example of the beautiful architecture that I got to appreciate.
I was very lucky, because the first building I walked up to was, in fact, the Bodleian library, the place I'd wanted to visit the most! It is one of the places where several scenes in the Harry Potter movies were filmed, so I was excited to be there and bought a ticket for a tour right away. Soon enough, I was walking through the doors. If I remember what the tour guide said correctly, the room in which you wait for your tour to start is also the room that was used as the Hospital Wing in the Potter films, as well as the room in which Minerva McGonagall gives the Gryffindor students a dancing lesson in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Here it is--just ignore my tour-mates!
I learned some really cool things about this room, such as the fact that, if you look up on the ceiling, you can see the coats of arms and the initials of the people who donated money to help the building get constructed, as well as the symbol of the person who did the carving work on the ceiling. We saw a few more rooms, and then it was time for the very best part: a visit to the library itself! Unfortunately, you can't have bags or cameras on that part of the tour, because students are working in the library and tour groups have to be as unobtrusive as possible. In fact, everyone on the tour actually wears a small receiver with an earpiece, and the tour guide has a microphone, so that she can speak very quietly and still be heard by the group. Seeing the library was amazing, especially because it includes the Restricted Section from the Harry Potter movies, included the screaming book chained to the shelves from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (which doesn't actually scream, sadly). It was a beautiful old place, with stained-glass windows and all, and it just felt exactly as I'd hoped it would: like a place full of history, tradition, knowledge, and even a little magic. I've got nothing against modern libraries, really, but my ideal library is one just like the Bodleian. Give me some dark, heavy wooden shelving and furniture, old radiators, stained-glass windows, and ancient books still chained to their shelves over some metal-and-glass creation any day.
The tour guide told us a lot of things about the library and about Oxford in general. One thing I found especially fascinating was that the Bodleian, like the British Library in London, is entitled to a copy of everything printed under copyright in the UK, including books, maps, sheet music, and more. This means that they receive something like 1200 items per day, which I'm sure is a book lover's dream but a librarian's nightmare! Obviously, this leads to storage problems, and so the Bodleian currently uses both an external storage facility and more than 200km of underground storage in an attempt to deal with it all. The tour guide said that even with the new external facility, they'd probably need to expand again in a few years. I'm sure that, back when that agreement was made, no one would have ever expected that we'd be able to print thousands of things in one day!
After my tour, which was definitely money well-spent, and a trip to the library's gift shop, which I never wanted to leave, I looked around a little more on my way to find a place to buy some Oxford gear. Here I am in front of the Radcliffe Camera, looking very pleased with myself, because I was! I'd looked at that building so many times in pictures and on Google Street view, admiring it and wondering if I would ever really get to see it, and here I am, grinning away like a fool in front of it.
The University Church of St. Mary the Virgin, near the Radcliffe Camera
I eventually did find a gift shop, and bought myself two sweaters and a scarf, which I've been proudly wearing all winter. By then, it was about time for me to start heading back to the train station, because the trip is 1-2 hours depending on which train you catch, and I didn't want to get back to London too late. As a solo female traveller, I always made sure to get back to my hotel while it was still light out. Of all the places I could visit, I'm sure that London is one of the safer ones, but I still didn't want to take any chances by being out after dark. On my way back to the train station, I was intrigued by a row of colourful houseboats docked along a small river, and took a few minutes to go and walk along the water to admire them. I didn't take any pictures of these, considering that they are people's houses, but it was a very pretty and relaxing walk, looking at the well-maintained houseboats and appreciating the ducks paddling around in the water. The weather was gorgeous again, sunny and about 16 degrees Celsius, which is just cool enough for a light coat.
Arriving at the station, I became a little afraid that I wasn't going to be able to get a spot on the train. The place was packed! It was a Tuesday, and getting toward the end of business hours, so I'm sure I was sharing the platform with lots of commuting students and workers. Here, the joys of having a First Class ticket really started to shine through. When the train arrived, 90% of the passengers who had been crowding the platform moved to one end of the train, while I got to go the other way. Behold, the glory that is a First Class car during rush hour!
Look at it! Just look at it! Curtains! Tables! Lumbar support! Oh, this is the life!
I swear, these seats were some of the comfiest things on which my rear end has ever had the privilege of sitting. They were fully adjustable and were an amazing relief for my back, which was stiff after a day of walking around Oxford. Plus, I had plenty of personal space, despite the crowd on the platform. This was what I had paid for when buying my ticket! It was kind of funny to sit there with all of the businessmen in suits, but hey, my ticket said First Class as much as theirs did, so I thoroughly enjoyed the ride back into London, where I spent one last happy night in the hotel room that felt like home by then. The next day was to be my last in London, culminating in my long-anticipated ride up to Fort William on the Caledonian Sleeper.
As a huge Harry Potter fan, I will unashamedly admit that my journal entry for Day 5 begins with, "Wake up, Potter! We're going to the zoo!"
I can also unashamedly admit that I had found and entered the Reptile House within about two minutes of making it through the gates and into the zoo. To my delight, I discovered that the zoo has a board up in the Reptile House to commemorate the filming of a portion of the first Harry Potter movie there. I wasn't expecting an actual, physical reminder of that, and it felt good to realize I wasn't the only person geeking out over my memories of Harry and the Burmese Python.
Look at him! He's so small! And the oversized clothes!
Ah, memories. Thanksss for this moment, London Zoo.
After I'd revelled sufficiently in the Reptile House (which also has plenty of cool reptiles, not just goodies for Harry Potter fans), I started my exploration of the rest of the zoo. If you have any interest in zoos whatsoever, you need to see the London Zoo at least once in your life. It is an excellent place, with a wide variety of animals and some attractions that were especially unique and interesting. These included a group of silverback gorillas, who have both an interior and an exterior enclosure in which you can observe them. One of the gorillas had recently given birth, and it was fascinating to watch her interacting with her baby. Obviously, this was an especially popular sight, and so it was a bit difficult to edge my way in and get a picture, but I think I captured a fairly good one:
One of the other really excellent attractions at the London Zoo is the Sumatran tiger exhibit. The tigers have an entire tiger-themed area devoted to them, and visitors are invited to watch them playing and interacting with one another through huge windows. There are two adults, who had three cubs in 2014, which was a very happy occasion because Sumatran tigers are critically endangered. They have toys, like the large inflatable ball that you can see reflected in the window here. They weren't especially active during my visit, but they did walk close enough for me to snap a few pictures of them from time to time, and just seeing them up close was an experience in its own right. They are truly beautiful creatures, with the grace of overgrown house cats but the enormous teeth and muscles of meat-eating wild animals. I'm pretty sure that I got the male, Jae Jae, in my shot here.
With these two big-ticket attractions down, I made my way around to the rest of the zoo, not really looking for anything in particular. I came across a few really gorgeous animals, and my pictures do them more justice than trying to describe them ever could, so here are some of those. As a side note, I really enjoyed this opportunity to work on my photography skills, breaking out my telephoto lens for some shots and practicing getting obstacles like cages to disappear by adjusting focus. The birds, in particular, were a delight to photograph, because they're so bright and colourful. I'm really proud of some of the shots that I got, so you'll notice that I've put a small watermark on the ones below. I hope it's not too intrusive, but I'd really just like to protect these ones in particular as best I can.
This one is very special. This is a Socorro dove, and Socorro doves are
extinct in the wild. It's amazing to think that I took a picture of a bird
that doesn't exist outside of captivity.
This one needed a sign to assure people that it was not dead! It moves very,
very little, and apparently people were concerned about it. The butterfly house was
incredible--it was a big, inflatable enclosure filled with free-flying butterflies.
Walking through the humid air, with butterflies and moths zipping by on their
jewel-coloured wings, was absolutely fantastic and one of my favourite parts
of the whole day.
A statue of Winnie the Bear
I saw pretty much everything there was to see, minus the farthest reaches of the "Into Africa" area, an omission that I was not exactly heartbroken over. I had seen so many wonderful things in one day; it wasn't going to hurt me to not see a couple of zebras. On my way out of the zoo and back to the Tube, I once again admired London's beautiful Royal Parks. This one was Regent's Park, and, on a warm and sunny day, it was a real pleasure to walk through. That's me in front of one of the many gardens in the park, which also boasts fountains and a lovely tree-lined walkway with plenty of benches. You can see some people in the back who were enjoying the beauty of the park as much as I was! All the walking I did seemed so much nicer with these parks to appreciate on the way.
My long-anticipated day at the Zoo done, I went to bed that night just as excited for the next day, when I would take my first train ride and visit Oxford.
That's me, visiting yet another historic site in London! The majority of my fourth day in London was spent here, at the Tower of London, which has a long, long history and has served many purposes in its time. As I explored the tower, I learned about its many functions, including prison, menagerie, armoury, and Royal Mint, to name only a few. I didn't even see all there is to see at this site, and I was still blown away by the rich history on display. If you're ever intending to visit the Tower, I strongly suggest making an entire day of it if you really want to fully appreciate it. There are so many different things to take in, from displays of armour and cannons to cases full of old coins, and, of course, the Beefeaters and the crown jewels. There are also tours that run regularly for those who would like to hear the stories instead of just reading them off the displays, and other activities for children and families. It isn't a cheap place to visit, but it's well worth the money if you take your time and explore every inch that you can.
Oooh, shiny!
This suit of armour, the collection of breastplates, and the fellow on the horse are just a few examples of the beautiful armour, uniforms, and weapons that were on display, ranging from the medieval to objects from the very recent past. It was a bit difficult to get good pictures because of the lighting and the fact that pretty much everything was in a glass case (understandably). There were also some examples of implements of torture and punishment that were used when the Tower was a prison--gruesome to look at, but great fun for those of us who appreciate the chance to scratch the surface of London's darker past.
A Yeoman Warder, or Beefeater
Once I'd explored inside for a while, I passed by the gift shop and bought a selection of postcards for friends back home, as well as a stuffed Beefeater bear for myself. How could I resist something like that? I'd have second thoughts about it later, when it came time to pack my suitcase for the sleeper train, but you know what they say about hindsight and perfect vision! This done, I went out into yet another lovely, sunny day (I'll probably say this a dozen times or more throughout my posts, but I really did have dry, comfortable weather for the duration of my trip, and I remain thankful for it, considering the UK's reputation for being generally sodden) and took in the sights that I could find in the courtyards. I knew I would never forgive myself if I left the Tower without pictures of the Welsh Guards and the Beefeaters, so I made sure to snap a few as soon as I could. You really have to admire their willingness to stand there are let people take pictures of them all day. I learned that the Beefeaters are not just regular employees in funny uniforms, but actual retired Armed Forces members. I've read stories about them not being hesitant to give people a thorough tongue-lashing for not behaving properly in or around the Tower, so I guess the fact that they are all ex-military shouldn't have come as a surprise. Luckily, I didn't do anything to draw their attention to me, and quickly escaped with a picture!
Finally, it came time for me to go and see the crown jewels. Security is tight at this point, and a strict no-photograph policy is enforced around the jewels themselves, so I don't have pictures of them to share, but I can say that they are all gorgeous pieces. It isn't just a display of crowns and jewelry, but also orbs, trumpets, plates, robes, and all kinds of other objects that are currently used or were historically used in royal ceremonies. It was amazing to see so many jewels all in one place, but it was equally amazing to be so close to objects that hold so much symbolic meaning. These pieces were, and are, physical representations of the power and influence of the monarchy. The Queen might not have as much power today as she might have had hundreds of years ago, but, all the same, you can feel that old authority radiating from the crown jewels.
The only picture I was able to get, snapped while
I was standing in line to go inside.
After seeing the crown jewels, I finally left the Tower and spent a little while sitting near Tower Bridge. Unable to resist, I woke up my parents (it was only seven or eight in the morning for them) with the typical "Guess where I am?" phone call. I loved the contrast of having the old, historic Tower behind me and the ultra-modern glass spheres and spires across the water in front of me, connected by the iconic Tower Bridge.
The view of the Tower, rising up behind me.
It's so incredible to see this in movies now and know that I was sitting right there.
Seriously, these are right across the water from the Tower.
After my visit to the Tower, I passed by the National Gallery and National Portrait Gallery, which are right near each other, but I don't have much to report about those. I think I was getting a bit burned out when it came to galleries and museums at this point, so my lack of things to say about them certainly doesn't mean that they are inherently boring to visit! The National Gallery was quite nice, and it was cool to discover that they keep cushions on the floors in certain rooms so that artists can come and practice by sketching sculptures and other works. There was a wide variety of art to admire, and you could definitely make a day of it if art is really your thing. I was pretty tired by the time I got to the Portrait Gallery, so I really didn't spend much time in there, but it would probably have been interesting as well if I'd had a bit more energy. Admission to both galleries is free, so it was no problem to just spend a little time in each one. Free admission to museums and galleries was one thing I really loved about London. It makes things so much more accessible for young people and people travelling on a budget, who want to be able to learn about things and see these amazing collections but might not be able to if admission were charged.
With another busy day behind me, I went back to the hotel to get some rest before embarking on one of the parts of my trip to which I was looking forward the most: a day at the London Zoo.
