Story and Photos by Ashley Van Osdel
Last summer I had the journey of a lifetime. I spent six weeks at the International Summer School (ISS) in Oslo, Norway, living and studying alongside students from over ninety different countries. It was also the summer of my 21st birthday. Wanting to do something special to mark the occasion (as if being in Norway wasn’t special enough) I found a pair of 30 dollar round trip plane tickets to Scotland. Enlisting my American friend and fellow ISS student Jess to come with me, we embarked on a whirlwind weekend adventure to the northern British Isle and began the adventures detailed below.
Glasgow
Scotland greets me with sunny skies and a soft breeze on the morning of my 21st birthday. It’s the perfect day to go exploring. Jess and I arrived in Glasgow the night before, our bags packed for a short trip. We don’t have the luxury of time but are determined to see as much as possible. The plan is to use the day to visit three different and iconic Scottish cities: Glasgow, where we are now, Stirling, and Edinburgh.
Jess and I head into downtown Glasgow, getting a feel for the largest of Scotland’s cities as we roam the cobbled streets of the retail district and city center. I see familiar sights such as Starbucks, Borders, North Face, and H&M, along with the towering steeples of churches that are undoubtedly older than any in my own country, and exquisite hotels and banks, their crumbling facades containing images of saints, cherubs, and ships.
In George Square, we watch people mill around lazily, gazing at statues of famous Scots that provide decoration in the large open space at the center of the city. A Saturday flea market offers all sorts of food, cheap jewelry, and hand-woven goods. Jess and I browse among the booths tempted by the smells of cooking food, passing the time until our train for Stirling is set to leave.
Stirling
We took a reliable form of Scottish transportation, a ScotRail train, from Glasgow an hour north to the small city of Stirling. Known as the “gateway to the highlands,” Stirling rests at the border between the Scottish lowlands and the rolling, patterned Ochil Hills to the northeast. The old city sits atop a craig, a rocky volcanic hill rising out of the surrounding meadows and plains. It is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever laid eyes on and I know immediately that I want to spend time delving into this ancient city’s sights.
Jess and I spot a tartan shop across the street from the station and decide to take a look around. Tartan and Scotland may as well be synonymous; the criss-crossing plaid cloth has deep roots in the country. Each Scottish clan has its own particular pattern that family members wear to connect with their heritage.
The shop’s owners, Gillian and Eric, are typical of the Scottish people we’ve met on our journey so far, which is to say they’re incredibly friendly, very talkative, and more than willing to lend some advice or a helping hand. They immediately engage us in conversation about where we’re from, what we’re studying, why we’ve decided to come to Scotland, and what we hope to see in Stirling. Then Eric begins giving us a lesson on Scottish clan history using the tartans around us as reference points. His thick Scotch accent and use of slang makes it difficult for me to get at the finer details of the story he’s telling. Regardless of our language differences, his honest and friendly manner comes through clearly.
I pick out a tam hat and tartan scarf for myself and another scarf for my mother. Mom’s grandfather immigrated to the United States back in the 1800s, but we know little about his life in Scotland. Since it was always Mom’s dream to visit Scotland and feel a connection to her roots, I feel especially privileged to be in this place.
Eric shows me the proper way to wear a Scottish tam hat on my head – tilted towards one of the front sides, not straight on top as I’d thought. “Here in Scotland, if a man calls you a hen, he fancies you,” Eric says with a wink as we leave.
With newfound purpose and directions given to us by our new Scottish ambassadors, Jess and I begin walking up Stirling’s narrow winding streets. We splurge on a guided tour of the majestic castle and get a close look at the great hall, dungeons and armory. The palace itself was built in 1540 for King James V and his wife Marie of Guise and years later it was the coronation site of their daughter Mary, Queen of Scots. Standing on the palace grounds, at highest point of the craig, we have a fantastic view of the surrounding fields, hills, and the many purple and yellow flowers that dot the landscape.
Back in the castle’s courtyard we run into the beginning of some sort of procession. I spot six different groups of men and women dressed in traditional costumes, and carrying musical instruments and flags. We see Scotland, the Netherlands, Germany, Belgium, Iceland, and our host country Norway represented in the crowd. The Norwegian delegation is kind enough to let us take our picture with them. We watch as they march out of the courtyard and around the castle, each group waving their country’s flag above.
At first it seems quite random that we’ve run into this sort of event, but this pride in history and culture is not out of place here. Stirling was an important site in the Wars of Scottish Independence. Fans of the film Braveheart can visit the old Stirling Bridge where the real William Wallace fought the English and the monument named in his honor.
Before leaving we take a short walk down the side of the craig hill to the famous beheading stone. The smooth flat rock was used in countless executions during medieval times and is now covered with an iron cage to prevent vandalism. Peering through the bars, I can see a hundred etches carved into the stone.
Edinburgh
The train once again leads us to our next location. In Stirling it was easy to spot the castle. Not so here. To me, every building in Edinburgh looks like a castle. It is considered one of the most picturesque cities in Europe, and the capital city of Scotland.
Crossing a bridge into Edinburgh’s Old Town leads us in the right direction. The streets are crowded with people who have come to see The Gathering, a highlands festival bringing dancers and musicians together from all over the world. We are disappointed to learn the castle has been closed down to tours early to accommodate the games; a minor setback.
The main street in Old Town Edinburg is known as the Royal Mile, truly a mile long and containing some of the most important historical sites in Edinburgh. It’s also a tourist destination with numerous shops selling all manner of Scottish goods from football jerseys to clan crests. For dinner we eat at The Hub, a trendy restaurant occupying a 19th century spire just down the road from the castle. Jess insists I order a celebratory birthday drink and I laugh. We’ve been so busy soaking in all the sights that the significance of the date has escaped me.
As we make our way back down the Royal Mile the starting parade of The Gathering begins its advance towards the castle. We watch groups of performers dressed in traditional Scottish costumes fill the streets. Bagpipe music permeates the air while girls wearing pleated tartan skirts dance past the crowds.
Oslo
Landing in Oslo that next morning and tired as hell after getting no sleep in the small Scottish airport the night before, I know this weekend and this birthday will remain among the best I ever have. My time in Scotland was brief but showed me a country steeped in the rich tradition and celebration of heritage. Everywhere I looked I saw Scots celebrating their country’s legacy past and present: the procession of countries in Stirling, Eric’s willingness to impart his knowledge of clan history with us, and the Highland games in Edinburgh. Scotland may be part of the greater United Kingdom but has its own unique blend of culture.
