An' cut you up wi' ready slicht

Dear all,

This entry will be my first effort to catch up on my blogging. Hence, it will not discuss Edinburghian life up till the point I currently find myself, but rather, it will look back at experiences which occurred long long ago (i.e. January). The last time I left you I referred to Calton Hill and the seaside, so let me start at that.

Calton Hill is the headquarters of the Scottish Government, which is based at St Andrew's House, on the steep southern slope of the hill; with the Scottish Parliament Building, and other key buildings, for example Holyrood Palace, lying near the foot of the hill. The hill also includes several iconic monuments and buildings: the National Monument, Nelson’s Monument, the Dugald Stewart Monument, the New Parliament House (the Royal High School) and the City Observatory. On the eastern slope, the tomb of David Hume is situated (David Hume (1711-1776) was a Scottish philosopher, economist, and historian; he is considered to be one of the most important figures in the history of Western philosophy and Scottish Enlightenment). He wrote his own epitaph: “Born 1711, Died [----]. Leaving it to posterity to add the rest.” Naturally, the year of his death was engraved on the actual tomb. (source: wikipedia)


View from Calton Hill; to the right you can see the Dugald Stewart Monument, which is a memorial to the Scottish philosopher Dugald Stewart (1753-1828).


The National Monument is a memorial to those who died in the Napoleonic Wars (c. 1803-1815). It is modelled upon the Parthenon in Athens, and its construction started in 1822. Below you can see the National Monument, with to the right Nelson’s Monument (a commemorative tower to Admiral Horatio Nelson, 1758-1805). (wikipicture)


The monument is famous for being only partially complete. According to documentary evidence, the monument was intended to be a full replica of the Parthenon, but money ran out midway through construction and only one side of the structure was completed. The city of Glasgow reportedly offered to cover the costs but Edinburgh was too proud to accept the other city’s charity. As a result, the monument is often given the nickname Edinburgh’s Disgrace or Edinburgh’s Folly. (source: wikipedia)

Aside from the historical aspect, the monument proved to be irresistible to clamber:


View from Edinburgh’s Disgrace:


The colours are breathtaking when the sun is coming through (which, admittedly, doesn’t happen very often):


Enjoying the view:


In good spirits we set off towards the seaside of Edinburgh, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ocean. Indeed, after 1.5 hours of brisk walking I wasn’t settling for anything less. Needless to say, I was disappointed; we ended up at the docks and all we saw were (partly) corroded ships and strange objects such as shearlegs. The following picture was the only one worth taking:


To exemplify the dismal atmosphere: we found a sign leading to a picnic spot at the seaside, but when we got there the view behind the picnic tables was onto a huge car park and I made a picture of the view you had on the ocean:


However, we found a mall and I couldn’t resist the temptation of commerce; notably, I bought Amsterdam by Ian McEwan (familiar to some of you as the author of Atonement). No, regardless of what you are saying, I was not feeling homesick. I have wanted to buy the book ever since I saw Atonement during the Leids Film Festival, and the reason I bought Amsterdam in particular is because it won the Man Booker prize. As some of you know I have taken on the challenge of reading all books which won the Man Booker prize, and being a collector at heart I have to own them as well.

In any case, I liked the book very much -- it reminded me a bit of Coetzee with regard to the style, and in my opinion the ironic, bleak, and absurd story line indeed leads to “a psychologically brilliant study of heartlessness” (Sunday Telegraph), even though that might be a bit of an exaggeration.

On a side note, I also read Anne Enright’s The Gathering, and although it wasn’t bad it wasn’t my cup of tea; however, to be fair to it I will add the comment of the Irish Times: “a fresh, sophisticated take on the dysfunctional family saga.” Needless to say, Enright is Irish.

Currently, I have started reading The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood (from Canada), and so far I have trouble understanding the plot: definitely a good sign. It reminds me of Atonement in the sense that the narrator is an old woman, and Atwood makes extensive use of mis-en-abyme (story within a story; as for instance in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus). However, as I’m only at one tenth of the book, I cannot say more about it.

That’s quite enough about literature, I dare say! I’ll move on to Burns night, which basically is an excuse to have Burns supper. It is quite a happening around here and follows some rules which are duly adhered to. After the start of the evening, the haggis is ceremoniously brought in (i.e. everybody is standing and a bagpipe player accompanies the entrance of the haggis). Next somebody recites Address To a Haggis, during which the speaker plunges a knife into the haggis and cuts it open from end to end (at a designated line in the poem). According to wikipedia the ceremony is more extensive, but I know only of the above mentioned facts that they actually occur. Finally, it should be added that I have not dared to taste it.

The morning after Burns night, we decided to go to Duddingston, a village to the east of Edinburgh (walking distance). The reason being that we were not really able to do anything but cognitively undemanding tasks, such as walking and breathing. The name Duddingston, or Dodin’s Village, dates to the 12th century and replaced an older Celtic name, Treverlen.

Duddingston Loch is surrounded by a park, the rocky crags of which are the remains of a volcano that erupted into a tropical landscape 350 million years ago. People first came to the park about 9,000 years ago, using it firstly for hunting, and later for farming, and defensive, industrial and religious purposes. From the 12th century AD it was used as a hunting ground by successive Scottish kings, and was formally designated a Royal Park in the 16th century.

In the 18th century a large hoard of Bronze Age artefacts was dredged from the bottom of the loch. It included bronze swords and spear heads, all around 3,000 years old, which had been broken before being placed in the loch, possibly as part of some ritual or ceremony. Or perhaps the hoard was simply scrap metal.

The loch is currently a bird sanctuary, and you can see swans and one-legged birds:



In the village itself, Duddingston Kirk (Church) dates from the 12th century. The fine Romanesque doorway and chancel arch still remain, outside the gate there is a 17th century ‘loupin-on-stane’ to help horsemen mount, and the ‘jougs’, a punishment collar. Unfortunately, though, the gate was closed; nevertheless some of us tried to break in and in our attempt we made a picture of the lock to be able to see the mechanism better.


Needless to say, our efforts were fruitless and after a police car came around the corner, causing us to casually lean against the gate with our hands accidentally touching the lock from the other side, we beat a retreat.

The final treasure Duddingston had to offer was its pub: The Sheep Heid Inn (note the spelling of Heid!!), which is said to be one of the oldest in Scotland. Indeed, fact is that an inn has stood on the site since the 16th century (in 1580 King James VI presented the landlord with an embellished ram’s head); however, the present building is mainly 19th century, and an attempt by the owners to create a historic atmosphere fell on flat ears, mainly because their strategy consisted of dimming the light and cramming the place with all knickknacks they could find (I feel compelled to point out that they a shelf with all Charles Dickens’ novels on it).



As I am writing this entry, it is quite astonishing to realise how much I have been doing here – I never remember being this energetic in the Netherlands. I am going to do all the touristy things in Leiden when I’m back, though.

Next time I will report about Ninja’s stay at Edinburgh – she visited me for four days and all I am saying now is that we had a jolly good time! I might add that it was the week of the Student Festival, which is subtitled as “A Celebration of Student Life.” I rest my case.

Until I write again!

Cheers,
Beata


"Obviously, it is not the case that phonemes think" - Lecturer at Edinburgh University