Freedom

At 4:15 am on Wednesday I meandered down two flights of stairs while sleepily braiding my hair and zipping up various compartments of my backpack. We had to leave at an unholy hour to get the deals and in retrospect I'd say sacrificing the shut-eye was worth it. My talent came in useful and I swiftly drifted to sleep for a few hours before I woke up to a feeling much like being shanked repeatedly in the gut. I ran to the toilet and puked up the poison, whatever it was.

The rest of the rail ride was much more pleasant; full of stories and stifling our giggles. (I think that trains may very well be my favorite mode of travel). There are so many who I love to be around, who I love to spend time with. I thrive on the company and companionship of others. This is good seeing as I have 15 roommates and live withing a floor of nearly 25 more.

Yellow Canola fields on a passing train.

We arrived in Edinburgh in the late morning and were surprised at the windy chill that accompanied our footsteps to the hostel. I have always considered myself as a prepared person, often to boyscout extent, but it seems like my packing skills have somehow severely suffered as of late. I packed too warm for London (swapping out a few t-shirts for a sweater last minute) and too cold for Scotland. I brought 4 shirts. I wore 3 each day, rotating the outer most layer and mixing up the compilation I piled on my body to keep out the cold. Basically, I looked amazing for 4 straight days.

We took a brief walk down the Royal Mile to familiarize ourselves with the area before being set free to scale the rocky crags of Scotland. It had been a while since I had hiked and I had forgotten how much I love it. Without my dad, however, it just wasn't the same. I wasn't constantly struggling to keep with his pace, I wasn't getting to see little things pointed out to me or share the views with someone who I know appreciates it like me. I realized on that sharp escarpment just how much I love being at his side. He waits patiently for sketching and rather than complain opens his eyes instead to the wonders I attempt to get down on paper. He sees me and understands.

Looking down off Arthur's Seat at Edinburgh.

I felt like William Wallace up there with the Scottish wind at my back and the vast landscape below. I bellowed Freedoooooooooooooo(hold vowel sound for 8 minutes)m! countless times while venturing to and from the top of the crag (and if that's not one of the most Scottish words I've ever heard I don't know what is). The walk down took a fraction of the time and soon our feet were set to the city for exploring.

A fence to keep us safe of course.