(Originally written, uh, a week or so ago.)

I spent another day or two in Edinburgh - I don't quite remember when the last day I wrote anything was. I got myself to visit the University, although I didn't learn much save that campus is pretty grungy. I guess admissions isn't quite the art here that it is back home - every time I asked a question people would stare at me like they weren't quite sure what I was doing there at all. (Which certainly doesn't bode well for my getting a job ever. Only admissions offices ever hire me for anything.) Quite disheartening. I guess I'll apply anyway once things open up but...

Saturday I went walking - did not actually go up top Arthur's Seat, as at every turn the route going away from it looked more interesting. Saw it, though. Was gorsey. Went to the national museum something something Scotland whatever afters, and in theory learned something about Scotland. This is only somewhat true. Saw some poor decapitated kid's jawbones, though, and that's always good for a lark.

(Flashforward - I wish this bus would give some indication of whether or not it ever plans to go anywhere.)

Sunday I split for Fort William, or at least that was the theory. I'd heard the train was lovely, so when I found the ticket was only ten pounds more than the bus - not to mention easier to get - I went for it. Surely the train would be faster, right? Yeaaaaah. Turns out that on Sundays, there are still trains every half-hour to Glasgow, but there is only one to Fort Willy. And it doesn't leave 'til six. Since I was clever enough to get to Glasgow around half eleven in the morning, this left me with not much to do save worry, as I wasn't scheduled to get into An Gearasdan until half ten at night then and it was not clear if I'd be able to get into the hostel yadda yadda I am my father's daughter, paranoia and all. After an hour or so of searching, did find an internet cafe. Since a day pass costs less than two hours would've, I pretty much parked myself there the rest of the afternoon.

I did see some of Glasgow, though. It is much as you would expect. Everybody shaves their head and wears football colors all the time and would probably happily have beaten me up if I hadn't strategically been wearing gray. (Okay, they probably wouldn't have. But they did generally look like extras from a bar fight scene.) The bits I saw outside the people were a bit like London, really, only with more Greggs and discarded bottles of Irn-Bru littering the streets.

Anyway, I did get on the train and it was indeed beautiful. Water and mountains and villages you'd miss if you blinked had the train not stopped at every one of them. (A bit like upstate New York, actually, which I guess makes sense; they were probably close to eachother when Scotland was part of North America. Shut up, of course that makes sense, don't you go waving your actual geological facts at me now.) People would get on at one town and get off at the next; I imagine it's the easiest way to get around in some cases, especially as the Citylink takes a different route. And the rail screeches something fierce when it rounds a corner - except for once you get close to Fort William, where it starts to sound for all the world like a lone saxophonist warming up.

Nearly missed my stop, but thankfully everyone else was getting off there, too. (I had trouble believing it could be half ten already, and technically it was more like 10:15, because it was still so bright. Such is the norf, I suppose. [Is probably the nort' now, actually.]) Got to the hostel okay despite Google Maps being a compulsive liar.

(And that's enough for now. Fort William next time.)