Goodbye, Scotland

I lived the past year of my life in Scotland. And it's a strange feeling to know that it's going to be a while before we meet again.

It didn't take very long of my living in Edinburgh to start seeing the place as 'home' - this, despite grey clouds that never seem to go away, everyone constantly reminding me that "Scotland is a cold, cold place," and the masses of drunken people that never failed to be screaming and shouting outside my window on Cowgate at 3AM in the morning.

If anything, I think those were the things that made me love Scotland all the more - the grit and the grime, the unpolished imperfection of it all.

Despite having been to nine countries in as many months, there's something that's satisfying about stepping off a plane at Edinburgh airport - knowing that at the end of a trip, no matter what I'll be coming home.

Scotland has never seen herself as a glittering jewel of anything. Scotland is raw, pure, and her people are free.

It is this rawness of the country which I have come to love - the highlands with miles of road ahead, having to wait for sheep and highland coos to cross the road, the dark, peaceful nights in Galloway and on the Isle of Skye, so dark that it's completely black outside your window except for stars shining in the sky above.

I have come to love Edinburgh (although true Scots will say that Edinburgh is more like England than it is Scotland) for the Royal Mile, where I used to work, doing leafletting and getting to become good friends with other people who did busking on the streets. I love that Edinburgh is so small, that we almost never use public transport at all - our own two feet are good enough for just about anything.

I love Glasgow for walking down the streets of the heart of Scotland and listening to thick Scottish accents, sometimes so thick that you really have to pay attention to understand what they're trying to say.

People are friendly - you can start a conversation with just about anyone.

Scotland has her curiosities. Haggis, for one. Saying 'wee' every other word. The amazing, amazing social festivity known as the ceilidh, where people dance with perfect strangers and have a helluva good time.

The last week of living at Kincaid's, a bunch of my flatmates and I were sitting in the common room at 2AM, talking about everything that we would miss about this incredible time living here. We started listening to Loch Lomond, and before we knew it we were close to tears.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uZ-p-tN8Gs

I guess at this point this has just turned into long-winded rambling and nostalgic reminiscence of everything that is Scottish. So what I'm really trying to say is:

Scotland, I miss you already, and I can't wait until the next time I get to go home.