Evergreen to Calgary to London (July 27-30)
Since I found out on Tuesday (July 26) that the Passport Office had no record of my three attempts at applying for a passport, I was naturally a little distressed. I had, however, acquired instructions on how to obtain one in about three days, made all the arrangements, and headed off to Calgary, praying non-stop the whole way there and until I had my beautiful dark blue Canadian passport in my trembling hands on Friday at 4.15pm. Saturday by 2-something, Luke and I were in an airplane and headed to Europe! Because the girl with whom we were staying (KM) was Canadian and therefore didn't have a British driver's license, we took the Underground to the stop nearest her house. She met us there, and led the way to her house where we were offered, in no particular order, food, a bed and a shower. Since, by that time, it was 9 o'clock Sunday morning (and hadn't slept on the plane, being waaaay too excited) I took a short nap while Luke and KM went for a walk and caught up on each other's lives.
London (July 31-Aug 4)
Sunday was Sightseeing with Tour Guide KM day. With Luke and myself in tow, she led us through all the typical and some not-so-typical sights London has to offer. We experienced the Tube, we saw Abbey Road, Westminister Abbey, Buckingham Palace, Hyde Park, the National Museum, Platform 9 3/4 in Kings Cross, found the Globe Theatre (for me) and Fleet Street (for Luke), saw the outside of St. Paul's Cathedral, ate dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe (my first Hard Rock experience, and where I learned that it was actually the first/original Hard Rock Cafe. Win!), then went back to her place and fell into bed by 10.30pm.
Monday and Wednesday were do-whatever-we-want days, and since we were staying at a hostel, we got to fully experience London from a tourist's perspective. Shared accomodations, communal washrooms, and zero privacy were what motivated us to spend most of our days sightseeing. The hostel itself (London Backpackers) was quite nice, and the staff/other guests were super nice and helpful, too. We had the opportunity to meet up with friends from Leth who were just on the last bit of their 10 week-long European Adventure, and did absolutely everything we could to make that happen. I mean, really, who actually says "Hey, let's get together in London one day and have a pint," and then actually makes it a reality? It was a pretty awesome experience, to say the least.
Sidenote: I'd like to take this opportunity to share Brad and Char's awesome European Adventure stories which can be found here.
Also, St. Paul's? Ridiculously expensive, but SO worth it! Oh my gosh. People had described it to me, I'd seen the picture in a friend's living room, Luke told me about it, but even after all that I was still on the fence about wanting to go at all. I'd even Googled pictures of the dome, and still didn't really want to go in. But when, in the middle of my audio tour as I was alone right behind the high altar and in front of the most breathtaking stained glass windows, the hourly prayers began and the priest instructed everyone who was in the building at the time to recite the Lord's Prayer in their native language... God was so present in that place, I was in tears by 'Thy kingdom come.' Completely indescribable. I only wish I could recreate the experience.
Back to Tuesday: Early Tuesday morning, Luke and I embarked on a day trip around the British countryside, seeing Windsor Castle, Stonehenge and Oxford. We didn't really know where we were going when we left to find the location of the tour company's office, but we figured out where we were supposed to be (read: Jesus was guiding us there), and life was good. We all crammed into a Mercedes-Benz coach bus for the trip, and by crammed, I mean that the bus was huuuge and everyone had sufficient enough room so as not to be sitting on the person next to them, in front of them, and across the aisle from them all at the same time. In short, the bus was gorgeous and spacious and smelled good (and even had a toilet and a coffee bar!). The trip got off to a smashing start with a tour of Windsor Castle, and because the Queen happened to be at Buckingham Palace that day, we were allowed to actually go take the tour instead of only being allowed to view the outside from a safe distance (which had happened to tour groups before). Fun fact about Windsor: Elton John lives there!
The next leg of the trip was Stonehenge. Now, I had anticipated being able to get closer to the rocks than the fence had allowed, so I was a little disappointed that I had to pay 7 pounds to walk in a circle 30ft away from the monument. Despite the distance, it was cool to see it in person... maybe not 7 pounds cool, but still cool nonetheless.
Oxford, however, was the highlight of the tour for me. Technically Oxford as a whole is both a city and a Universtiy at the same time. (Warning! To fully understand the rest of this explanation, you need to be able to overlook your North American definition of what a college and university are.) I've pulled this next bit off Oxford University's website because after having been asked this question a million times, they have developed the perfect definintion of the institution:
"There are 38 independent, self-governing colleges at Oxford University.
The collegiate system is at the heart of the University’s success, giving students and academics the benefits of belonging to both a large, internationally renowned institution and to a smaller, interdisciplinary, academic college community. It enables leading academics and students across subjects and year groups, and from different cultures and countries to come together to share ideas.
All Colleges invest heavily in facilities for extensive library and IT provision, accommodation and welfare support, and sports and social events. The relatively small number of students at each college allows for close and supportive personal attention to be given to the induction, academic development and welfare of individuals.
Each college has its own Governing Body, comprising the Head of House and a number of Fellows, most of whom also hold University posts. There are also six Permanent Private Halls, which were founded by various Christian denominations and still retain their religious character."
(Source: http://www.ox.ac.uk/colleges/the_collegiate_system/index.html)
Did you get all that? Hopefully you did, but if not, I would suggest following the link above and reading the articles on that page; it's quite interesting how it all works.
On our tour, we were able to walk through Christ Church College, and it was absolutely stunning. If I were ever to move abroad for university, I would head for Oxford in a heartbeat (over anywhere in Scotland, figure that out!). Seriously, look it up and then as you're looking at the pictures, imagine it to be 290x more beautifully breathtaking in person. 2 Fun facts about Christ Church College: 1-The stairwell scenes in Harry Potter (you know the one with the staircases that shift about?) were shot at Christ Church! 2- The dining hall in Christ Church was used for inspiration for the Great Hall in HP. Whoever was in charge of finding locations before they shot HP had asked Christ Church to shoot in both the dining hall and the stairwell of their school, but the school said no because they thought that the film crew using both locations (and they are pretty close together, if my memory serves correct) would disrupt the students too much, so they told the HP people to choose between the two, shoot in one and use the other one as inspiration. I think they chose well; what do you think?
Scotland (Aug 4-10)
Thursday morning I woke up with a jolt, much like a kid on Christmas morning (and I mean "wake up" in the same sense as a kid at Christmas... you know, after lying in bed wide awake for 6-7 hours in anticipation of the upcoming day).
[Now, despite having purchased the tickets, taken an airplane to Europe and bumming around/sightseeing for the past 4 days, I still wasn't fully convinced that I was actually going to see Scotland in person. Weird, I know, but think of it this way: This was my first trip out of the country in which I grew up, and Scotland was a place close to half-way around the world... a place I'd seen in movies and pictures and read about in numerous books and even dreamt of a few times. Through everything that happened in the days, weeks and months before the trip, it still all felt like a dream that was too good to be true. I actually had this terrible feeling following me around for the better part of 10 days that it was all in fact a dream, and that in the seconds before I was going to step off the train in Scotland, I would wake up. If that had happened, I'm really not sure what I would have done after I had finished crying.]
Back to the story, though: The moment Luke and I stepped on the train, I felt like my entire life had been propelled toward this trip. Everything I had endured and experienced just made me appreciate this trip that much more. It seems weird to put it in writing, but I felt complete in Scotland. Of course I knew I was still myself, but I felt like a better version of myself; Lacey 2.0, if you will. The train is also a marvelous way to travel into the country of your dreams, for the record. It was almost as if God had made me go through all the crap and challenges to get to Scotland, and as soon as I stepped foot on the train to Edinburgh, Jesus paved the entire way for me in flipping diamonds! I wish I could remember everything He did for me during my time in Scotland, but that post would probably rival this one in length.
In Edinburgh, our first hostel (Belford Hostel) was a refurbished church. I got to lay in bed and stare at the gorgeous stained glass windows. Seriously cool. I was thrown into a room with four Koreans whose only English was "hello," which was a little less than desirable, but I didn't let it get me down 'cause Belford had free wi-fi. Unfortunately, because of the timing of our trip being during the time of both the International Fringe Festival (the largest fringe festival in the world) and the Military Tattoo (world-renowned and super famous military performance), Luke and I were unable to find accomodations for more than two nights at a time. The upside of that situation was that we got to experience a variety of different places in which to stay (good research for my next trip...). For our first few days in Edinburgh, Luke and I mostly did our sightseeing by ourselves, instead of together. We did the big tours together like Edinburgh Castle, Holyrood Palace, etc... but for the most part, we stuck to our own schedules.
Two things that were really cool highlights in Edinburgh: touring Edinburgh Castle and seeing the Military Tattoo. We had wanted to do both in the same day, so before we went to the Castle, we stopped in at the Tattoo Office to buy tickets for that evening's performance. I swear my entire body went numb and the world stopped turning for a second or two, then tilted on its axis when the guy behind the counter told me that every single show was sold out during the time we were in Scotland. I thanked the man, and Luke and I went to the Castle for the tour. For some reason, Luke had a knack for bringing hopeless causes back from the dead the whole time we were in Europe. As soon as we got to the end of our tour, he said that it couldn't hurt to check the ticket office one more time. Maybe we might find a guy standing outside selling tickets that we could buy, even. Well, when we got back to the Tattoo Office, we indeed found a guy outside selling his tickets, but I went inside to try my luck anyways. I approached the same ticket man as before, and asked him again if there were any tickets left for any show in the next few days. He pushed a bunch of buttons, then an odd and confused look crossed his face as he said "it seems I have two front-row tickets that I can sell for 20 pounds each." (Sidenote: the cheapest tickets I could find advertised anywhere were 40 pounds each.) I eagerly purchased both tickets and proceeded to float back to our hostel and then back to Edinburgh Castle a couple hours later for the show. My thoughts on the show? It's a large part of what brought me to Scotland, and I would go back in a heartbeat. I would also highly recommend anyone and everyone see it for themselves.
While in Scotland, we did two bus tours. Our first went in a little circle north east of Edinburgh and stopped by the Wallace Monument (but not long enough to hike up the hill, mind you) in Stirling, Doune Castle (where Monty Python and the Holy Grail was filmed), we flew through the Trossachs and Callandar, then stopped at Falkirk for a few mintues before our tour guide Tony propelled us back to Edinburgh. And when I said 'flew by' and 'propelled,' I mean just that. I honestly thought I was going to be flung into the lap of the gentleman sitting across the aisle from me whenever we turned a corner, so I spent the majority of our bus tours thanking Jesus that the use of seatbelts was mandatory in all motor vehicles. Roads in Scotland aren't as gracious as the roads here in Alberta, either. They don't have any kind of shoulder, so it's roadditch; the only lines on the road are the ones in the middle, separating the left from the right. Speaking of the lines that separate the left from the right, after spending some time in different modes of transportation driven by Scots, I've determined that those lines are really only there for the comfort of the tourists. The locals don't really give a crap about whether or not they're straddling the center line while going what felt like 200 km/hr around a super curvy road. It also seems that the roads there followed alongside the paths of the many, many, many lakes, rivers and coastlines, so it's really hard to find a road that's actually straight for more than a kilometre or two. Their rule of thumb seems to be 'the windier, the better' and 'hey, let's keep the tourists guessing what we might hit around the next corner' when it comes to the rural roads.
Our second bus tour driver's name had slipped both the memory of both myself and Luke just as soon as he had introduced himself, so we referred to tour guide #2 as Not Tony (as Tony was the name of the other Scottish tour guide). We also liked Tony better than Not Tony, hence why we only made the effort to remember one of their names. (I think the name of the second one was John, but I really couldn't be certain.) On this tour, we stopped by the Wallace Monument again, but were actually given time to hike up the formidable hill and admire the stunning view for a few seconds before having to pile back on the bus. Then Tour Guide Not Tony sped us through the winding roads in what the Scots call mountains (but Canadians would call foothills), to Drumnadrochit, then no less than 1km later to Loch Ness. Now the rest of the population of the tour bus had paid for a trip on a boat around Loch Ness to "try and spot Nessie." As Luke abhors boats and I'm terrified of large bodies of water, naturally we headed for the nearest pub for supper, then to our hostel for an early bedtime.
For some mysterious reason, I've felt for a long time that I'm supposed to live in Inverness at some point in my life. I don't even think I've ever seen pictures of it, but that feeling still stands. We were supposed to stop in Inverness for lunch on our way home from Loch Ness, but Not Tony felt like we were so far behind schedule that we didn't. I was a little disappointed, but felt that God would lead me there eventually, so I didn't dwell on it for more than a few minutes.
As we made our way home, Not Tony took the opportunity of having a docile audience to tell us the political history of Scotland.
[Note: Both tour guides (as I suspect all are trained to do) told us stories of Scotland's history and folklore while we were driving from location to location. We also got to listen to authentic Scottish bands, which was sometimes akin to listening to Bob Dylan-esque folk songs done strictly on pan flutes, bohdrans and bagpipes, with the occasional guitar thrown in for effect. Tour guide Tony was good for the folklore and humerous side of the historical stories, where as Not Tony was really passionate about the political side of everything. At points it seemed like we were in a University class on a tour bus. Nonetheless, I learned a lot about the country, and enjoyed 99% of the time on the tours.]
Back to the tour: If you've ever been on a bus tour before, you know that there are certain stereotypes on each tour. These usually include (but are not limited to): the wealthy Europeans, the duo of divorcees who smoke like chimneys, an Asian family of about 5-7 people (none of whom speak a word of English), a couple of 20-somethings on a gap year, a couple on their honeymoon, a couple Canadians, and usually at least one ignorant American couple. The ratios also don't tend to change as the population of the tour increases, which is interesting. But hey, people from all over the world like to travel, I guess. It just seemed like the tour companies tried to put the same mix of people on each tour.
Fun Fact: It was around the time of the first bus tour that the London Riots were happening, but seeing as Luke and I had limited media access while in Scotland, we hadn't heard a single word about them. Consequently, my mother had been beside herself worried that I was dead in a ditch somewhere half way around the world, when in reality I was having the time of my life in a different country.
When we got back to Edinburgh on Wednesday evening, I was physically, mentally, and emotionally spent. From spending so much time with strangers to fighting with Luke, the last bus tour had taken pretty much everything out of me. Top that off with the fact that I still hadn't acquired the one souvenir I had to buy in Edinburgh: Cort's jersey.
Now I had thought this would be the easiest of all requested souvenirs to purchase. The current Scotland RWC jerseys could only be purchased in Scotland at a sport shop, and I had three full days to myself to find it. Holy crap, was I wrong. It almost seemed like Jesus didn't want me to buy that stupid thing, that's how many issues I had getting it. At first I couldn't find any sport shops, then I couldn't find any of the correct jerseys in the sport shop I had found, then my favourite part (which happened the evening we got back from the second bus tour and were preparing to leave on the night bus in a few short hours) was when I could see a bunch of those dang jerseys through the glass of a shop that had closed 10 minutes prior. I wanted to scream, cry, and throw up all at the same time. I think Luke said something about God providing one eventually and that everything would work out, but the buzzing in my ears was too loud for me to confirm that.
Defeated, we left the front of the shop and decided to wander around and see if we could find anything interesting to do for the next few hours. After a couple blocks, we found a park that had a really cool-looking little coffee shop with some chairs out front, so people could both buy and enjoy their coffee in the park. Super cool. Since I was sporting a pretty sweet headache from the stress caused by a jersey and the realization that I was about to leave Scotland, I decided it was high time for a coffee and a very large cookie. Upon entering the coffee shop, I was met with the most attractive man I've ever seen. Seriously, I thought I was hallucinating, he was that attractive. I ordered, and we chatted about our tattoos while he made my coffee (he had this really cool sleeve of birds flying up his arm). I'd like to take this moment to point out that I am learning that I can't tell when someone is flirting with me... this will be important in about 5 seconds. As Luke and I were walking away, I noticed that he'd put quite a bit of extra espresso in my mocha, and after removing the lid I saw he'd also drawn a heart in the foam on top. Yup, hadn't even realized it.
After wandering for a little while longer, finding Edinburgh's Hard Rock Cafe (seriously, what's with men and HRC?), and buying t-shirts, we boarded the grungiest coach bus I've ever seen and proceeded with the most uncomfortable 8 hour bus ride back to London.
Life lesson: The night bus in real life is nowhere near as cool as Harry Potter makes it out to be.
London again (Aug 11-12)
After a terribly uncomfortable, bumpy and sleepless night, we arrived back in London around stupid o'clock in the morning. 6? 8? I definitely don't remember. I do remember, however, calling my mom somewhere between stops #1-2 on our bus ride, and letting her know that I was safe in a different country and not dead in a ditch as she had been imagining.
Life lesson: Always check the news of everywhere you visit whilst on vacation, and don't wait 3 days to do parental damage control. They don't appreciate it.
After finding our way back to KM's house, having a much appreciated shower, some breakfast, and a delightful chat with some of her flatmates, KM, Luke and I headed out to catch the last few sights we'd missed the first time around. Namely, the Tower of London which was a lot cooler than I'd anticipated, but because I was really tired, I don't really remember a lot of it. The highlights (as usual on tours of castles) were lots of people being beheaded. And Fleet Street again, so Luke could try and find a place that would shave his beard with a straight razor, but to no avail. So, back to KM's place we went. KM, being Canadian, had made her flatmates watch a few episodes of Corner Gas after receiving season 2 in a care package from her parents. Her English friends didn't appreciate the humour in the least, so Luke, KM and I watched a couple hours of good ol' Canadian TV and then went to bed.
Before heading to bed, we had agreed to be at the airport by 6.30, so we could have time to jump through all the international security hoops. The next thing I remember, Luke was knocking on my door telling me it was 6.40. Within the next 15 minutes we were packed, goodbyed, out the door, and on the Tube to Victoria Station, where we would catch a shuttle to Gatwick... where we would hopefully not be late for our non-refundable flight. I don't remember a lot of the expedition to Gatwick due to stress and prayer being my priorities, but I do vividly remember feeling rediculous having my flip flops scanned through a machine and being patted down coming through security, and then being the first to arrive at our terminal a half an hour after we were scheduled to be there. Guess Jesus was with us or something. I swear the moment we sat down on the plane was one of the sweetest victories of the whole trip.
London to Calgary to Lethbridge to Evergreen (Aug 13-14)
Aaaand back to Canada we came. Safe and sound and in relatively the same condition as when we left 13 days prior (jet lag had kicked Luke in the face). What better way can you think of to celebrate having just finished an 8-hour-long flight than to take a 2.5 hour car trip? We took a quick trip to Leth to deposit some gifts purchased on the trip, go to church, say hi to Brad and Char again, pick up the last of the stuff Luke needed to move to Calgary, and headed back out to camp so I could get back to work. The two weeks had gone so terribly fast for me, and yet when I started talking to my friends who'd been at camp during that time, it felt like months had passed.
All of that being said, all of the credit card bills paid, all of the pictures reviewed, and having caught up on all the sleep I missed those months I was at camp (and despite sleeping quite a bit on the trip, the stress/jet lag cancelled it all out), I would do it all again in a heartbeat. To be honest, I've made the resolution that every choice I make and everything I do with my money will be weighed on how it will help me get to Scotland again. I miss it that much, and yes I do plan on staying for much, much longer than two weeks the next time I land over there.
And now that my European saga has come to an end, I'm going to sign off with the motto that got me through every difficult situation, stress, worry, hard time, and mess thrown at me last year:
"Your will, Jesus, not mine."
