The Joys of a Winter Wonderland

Winter in a British hostel is a bit of a strange experience for this Canadian girl. The emphasis and importance that everyone put on a few white flakes falling from the sky is so funny. There seem to be two overwhelming reactions.

One: Brits themselves seemed to be utterly pissed off and confused. It is like they have never seen the white stuff before. People are walking down sidewalks falling on their asses, and motorists are slipping and sliding down the streets. My new rule for myself is to not walk to close to the road you may get side swiped by a Ford Fiesta or something. They may be little but I'm sure it would hurt nonetheless. I am certain that for the last three winters the news has reported winter storms in the UK. Shouldn't they be prepared and as well an inch and ½ of snow does not constitute a winter storm!

The second reaction to snow I have witnessed is of a decidedly different bent it is the dancing and singing in the streets reaction. Guess who this is? Aussies of course, they act like they have never seen snow before because they really haven't seen it before. It is actually quite magical. It's as if Santa himself delivered it for their Christmas gift, and they react just like a 5 year old on Christmas morning.

The last two days I have seen a mixture of both of these distinct national characteristics. My reaction; I bought some boots with a bit of grip, a gorgeous red jacket, and I just walk along the sidewalks as sure footed as a puma wondering why I escaped the snow of Canada to hang out in the snow of Scotland. But then I enter a warm and toasty Scottish pub with a clear view of the Edinburgh Castle and I remember why.

Oh and on a personal note I seem to have passed all of my finals and thus will receive my degree. Whoo! Good times.

With a Little Help from My Friends

I realize I haven't written in a couple of days but I wanted to get my bag back before I started up again. I had a feeling that if I did I would just sound like a spoiled and whiny brat. You would be thinking, "Come on Corina just buy a couple of t-shirts and get on with it."

My bag and all contents did arrive yesterday evening around 7. It had decided that Milan in December would be a more desirable destination than Scotland. I just hope it took a couple of pictures of the Duomo for me.

Edinburgh is gorgeous by the way. The hostel we are staying in is in a 17th century building just off of the Royal Mile. For a history major this place is like Disneyland to me. The cobblestone alone is driving me crazy with pleasure.

Upon my arrival of course our first destination was the pub. And the drink o choice a cold frosty Magners which is apple flavored elixir of the Gods. "It's been too long my friend," I whispered to it, and received a sideways look from the barman.

Yesterday we walked "the mile" and saw the castle, palace and parliament buildings which line this most touristy but fantastic of streets. In the Palace Galleries was an interesting surprise a photographic display of the early 20th century exploration of Antarctica. This may not sound interesting to you but remember I am a history major and I actually wrote a paper about these dudes last year. So I loved it!

I think Christmas in Edinburgh will be great. Although we are moving into a flat with a crew of roughians. The city is all magical and twinkly. Down the street is a winter carnival with Ferris wheel and Merry go Round. It is a great town, I am drinking too much beer, meeting too many Aussies and staying up too late. This is the way life should be all of the time.

P.S. Someone would really do a study into the amounts of Aussie expats in the world. I swear they are slowly working on taking over the world with backpacks and excessive facial hair.

Come on St. Anthony I need a Miracle

Remember how yesterday I was praising my backpack as trusty and loyal. Well today my opinion is that it is lazy and unreliable. Supposedly it didn’t even get on the plane in Edmonton. How ridiculous is that. So I have made it to London, my bad has not. My reaction was oh f**k, which I did say out loud and the man standing in front of me gave me a disapproving look.
What a terrible feeling it was. As the same ugly flower covered bags rounded the baggage claim belt for the 15th time I realized that no amount of appeals to St. Anthony was going to find my lost item this time. The bag is supposed to be delivered to me tomorrow right to the hostel. It better be there or that trusty sidekick of mine may get dumped!
On a lighter note I am her in UK at Heathrow Airport waiting for my final flight to Edinburgh. What I need now is some strong coffee and a familiar face. Starbucks remedied my first need seeing “The Brother” tonight will remedy the second.
There are few moments in life when you can feel the real rush of the globe rotating under your feet. It is fantastic to see the environment transform before your eyes. Today has been one of those days. Though right now I may be seeing it through weary and bloodshot eyes it is extraordinary nonetheless

The Cure

The last two weeks of life have been extreme hysteria. Thus, tonight I am feeling totally unprepared. I am off tomorrow morning to Scotland for the Holiday Season. At 24 days it will be the shortest of my backpacking trips, and the length will pale in comparison to my 5 month tour of Europe or 3 month tour of AUS/NZ. But it is travel nonetheless. I am off to spend Christmas with my younger brother and his friend who are right now living (and by living I mean drinking) in Edinburgh for the year.

My year has been chaotic but fantastic. A trip to the UK seems like the perfect finishing note for 2009 and a good reward for finishing my degree, finally!

Tonight, I can finally concentrate on the task at hand. I pull out my favorite of all possessions, my trusty and weatherworn backpack. It is still as beautiful as the day I bought it 5 years ago even though it has a few travel scars (As do I!). Nothing else I own is like it. The mere sight of it brings back a rush of memories. It lets me know on days when I feel boring or uninteresting, that in fact I have been quite exciting and adventurous on occasion. This beaten up canvas rucksack has seen 16 countries with me so far, and will see many more if I have my way. It has seen me jump out of airplanes, off bridges, saunter down the Champs de Elysees, and drink a few hundred pints in dark European pubs.

So as I pull out this loyal sidekick and quickly start to abuse it by stuffing what seems to be half of my wardrobe inside, (Rookie backpacker mistake) a strange and familiar warmth fills my stomach.

I am going to cure that inevitable wanderlust that yanks at my heart strings.

And so my trusty backpack and I are outta here!