The perks of writing for a newspaper

If you don't know already, I'm on staff for Student, the University of Edinburgh's student newspaper. Technically, I work as a film reviewer (I've reviewed 2 films, one review was for the internet and the other was published in the paper) and a copy editor, but I branch into other topics from time to time. This week, I was given the restaurant review, so I went to Redfort Indian Restaurant for lunch today with Eve and Kate. I figured that I, as the reviewer, would get some sort of discount, but as it happened, the owner was our waiter (he knew I was coming), and he was so relieved to hear we'd loved the food and he'd be getting a good review that he gave us all three free meals! Love it.

The article follows. It'll be published Tuesday in Student, probably with a few changes.

A FORT-UNATE FIND

While walking up to the Redfort restaurant on a chilly October day, I was almost skipping with excitement. For a lunch deal of £5.95 each, my two friends and I received an all-you-can-eat Indian buffet, a welcome drink and either coffee, tea, or ice cream after your meal. This would be the highlight of an otherwise grey and dismal day.

Seated comfortably at a corner table, my friends and I placed our drink orders and stood to get our appetizers. Three nameless foods sat in front of me: my chickpeas in sauce, spicy chicken legs and red veg balls were all so satisfying I wanted so much more of each. A second trip to the buffet yielded my six different curries. Again, they were nameless – I’d forgotten them all. Distracted by food, I was more concerned with taste than titles.

The meal went over fantastically well with me and my two friends, both of them saying that it was well good. Personally, it was the best I’d had in a long time. Each curry had a distinctly different taste. None were so spicy that you had to stop (a definite plus at an all-you-can-eat buffet), and the chicken and lamb in the meat curries were so tender you could easily cut them with the side of your fork.

The service was also excellent. From the very beginning, when our waiter’s cute little son pulled him away for a moment and his quick apologetic return, to the very end, when he looked relieved that we had truly enjoyed the food, our attentive waiter always gave us something to smile about.

Definitely somewhere I will go again, the Redfort is a great (and relatively cheap) restaurant with notable student discounts, and a good way to break out of the bland ham sandwiches that plague my normal diet.

Au Revoir, Paris

Sunday morning, we woke up early so we could go to mass at Notre Dame. From the outside, the cathedral is absolutely breathtaking, even if it is smaller than I imagined. Notre Dame sits on the first bit of land that eventually became Paris, so the historical value there is pretty cool as well. Inside, though, the cathedral is incredibly impressive. Grey stone walls stretch high above your head, punctured by beautifully coloured stained glass windows. I must confess, I started nodding off because of the early morning, but Mom nudged me awake.

After mass, we walked around the cathedral, taking lots of pictures (which I'll get on the shutterfly site before Monday) and generally staring in awe at the cathedral. We then went to a nearby cafe for croissants, hot chocolate, and coffee, still able to see Notre Dame through the trees. It was a chilly morning, but we huddled under a heater to keep warm.

From there, we walked along the Seine to go to the Musee d'Orsay. I really liked this museum. It may not be as big and important as the Louvre, but it has more modern art, including the impressionists. We saw such famous paintings as The Gleaners, Van Gogh's self-portraits, Starry Night, Whistler's Mother... the list goes on and on. No Picasso, but it was cool. This museum also had some of my favourite sculptures from the weekend. At one point, we split up - Mom and I went upstairs while Dad and Pip stayed downstairs - and didn't find each other again for an hour and a half, but eventually we met up in the restaurant.

After the museum, we did a little bit of shopping before stopping for beers and desserts at a small brasserie. We then took the Metro back to the red-light district and took quick naps at the hotel. It wasn't long before Dad and I got back on the train to drop me off at Charles de Gaulle airport and I was on my way back to Edinburgh.

Paris was lovely, and a city I'm glad I didn't miss while it's so easy to visit. Now, four days later, I'm getting ready to say goodbye to Mom and Dad (Pip left today for Ireland). Dad doesn't want to go home, but I think Mom will be really happy to get back to her own comfortable bed.

Crepes Chocolat on the Champs Elysees

Waking up at 8:30 this morning, we went downstairs for a breakfast of croissants and buns. Mom and I had slept about 11 hours the night before, and though she said I didn’t squirm a lot (I used to when I was younger), she did note that I talked in my sleep around 1:00, something my roommates from last year were quite accustomed to.

We took the Métro to the Palace of Versailles, where we were met by gold-gilt glory and Roman gods on the ceiling. The place was packed with visitors, though I’m sure it would have been even worse in the summer when everybody usually comes to visit. We walked through the King’s Chambers, the Queen’s Chambers, the Dauphin’s Apartments, and the garden outside. In Louis XIV’s time, the palace covered 43 square kilometres, all walled in, an impressive plot of land. We all agree that it was neat, but that we wouldn’t go back. I personally like the simpler grandeur of Edinburgh Castle and Holyrood Palace, but I think I’m biased.

From there, we got back on the Métro for our half-hour journey back to Paris. I started nodding off on the train, and had to use Dad’s shoulder as a pillow. The ladies across from us apparently laughed at me, but I had a good little nap. Back in Paris, we stopped for tea (but they were out of croissants) before going on to our next destination, the Arc de Triomphe.

When we initially arrived, Dad was engrossed in his map and the rest of us were looking around a little confused. Finally, we noticed it, standing tall above the Champs Elysées. We took a lot of pictures, then walked under the road to go under the Arc. Before finally leaving it behind, we asked a fellow tourist to take a picture of the four of us in front of the Arc, which provides complete proof that yes, we were in Paris.

After dinner at a small pub-like restaurant, we began to walk down the Champs Elysées. Expensive brand names shouted at us from every direction. Cartier, the first store we saw, was my favourite store because everything in the window was sparkly (and “très chèr,” Pépé adds). We saw €950 for a fountain pen, and a necklace for €39,500. I think the diamonds were more impressive than the gilt walls and doors in Versailles.

As the sun fell behind the 6-storey buildings, I went to grab two crèpes chocolat from a street vendor, one each for me and Mom. By the time I got back, Dad was walking toward us with two people, one wearing a hat with a maple leaf. We found out that they were tourists from Minnesota, that they had once lived near Wooster, and that, shock of all shocks, the woman is a distant cousin of Pépé’s. Her great-grandmother was a Côté from Quebec.

After a quick chat with them, we continued down the Champs Elysées. Dad and I took a chance with our lives and ran to the middle of the street between two cement blocks, where we took pictures of our starting point, the Arc de Triomphe, all lit up. Turning around, we took pictures of the Obelisk with a Ferris wheel in the background. It was pretty cool, and another “EEE!” moment for the both of us – probably because the risk gave us a huge jolt of adrenaline. Mom just shook her head.

At the end of our walk, we had arrived in front of the Jardin des Tuileries (the Tuilerie Gardens), standing in front of the Obelisk. I found the Rose Line, the original Prime Meridian and an important part of The DaVinci Code, so we took pictures of the brass plates marking that as well. The area in front of the Obelisk was marked with a brass plaque stating that Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette had been guillotined at that spot, which was the first really cool bit of history that I learned about while in Paris.

We finally found our way back to our hotel, where we sat in Pépé’s room to write this entry as a family. (Enough corn for you?)

Nous sommes en France!

Friday morning, I met everyone up in Paris, and I had to wake up at 3:00 AM in order to catch a bus to the airport. The details are a bit fuzzy by now as it is 17 hours later and I’ve had the kind of day that even after a full night’s sleep would make me tired, but long story short my plane got in an hour late to Paris at 10:00 local time. Dad picked me up at the airport, and we went to our hotel in the middle of the red light district. He told me on the train ride that Pépé had been propositioned by a real live prostitute the night before, but politely declined, saying “Pas ce soir.” (Not tonight.)

After meeting up at the hotel, the four of us got on the Métro to go to the Louvre. What an awe-inspiring place. For the first hour, everywhere I looked was a jaw-dropping scene. Soon I came to expect the beauty and grandeur and was able to keep my mouth shut, but my eyes were just about popping out of their sockets nonetheless. We saw the famed Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, one of Dad’s favourite paintings including two topless women (see pinkplaidwellies.shutterfly.com for a picture), La Victoire, and so many other famous and lesser-known oeuvres that it was basically like cramming an entire lifetime of art culture into my head in those precious few hours that we spent there. Absolute beauty.

We then went to a restaurant, where we sat outside in a row facing the street. We were just down the road from the Opera House, yet another cool feature of the day. Food was very good, wine was some of the best I’ve tasted, and the passers-by gave us a slight view into Parisian culture and fashion.

When we were all fed and happy, we caught the Métro near the Opera House for our final stop of the day. It took until past dark for us to arrive where we wanted to go, but it was completely worth it when we arrived. All lit up in green and gold for the Rugby tournament, the Eiffel Tower was my major “EEE!” moment of the day. We walked right up underneath it, taking tons of pictures. Dad and I both touched the tower, something that I will be able to brag about when I go home. It was gorgeous.

After we left, we of course turned back to take yet another look of the tower from afar. When looking this time, it was all lit up with twinkling fairy lights that made it look even more beautiful than before. They lasted for a good half hour, which was about the time it took for us to get our bearings and find the entrance to our Métro station. With one last look at the Parisian icon over the River Seine on our train ride back, my adrenaline finally started to crash and it was all I could do to keep standing in the jolting car.

All in all, it’s one of the best days that I have had since my initial couple of weeks in Edinburgh. I have noticed, however, that even though Paris is a great city to visit, I would never want to live here. Edinburgh is more of a living town, even if Paris is Europe’s tourism diamond.

Venturing through Scotland

Well, it has been an interesting week indeed. Pépé arrived on Wednesday morning, and immediately we picked up a rental car to drive to St. Andrews. At first, Dad tried to get in on the wrong side of the car, and I had to remind him that everything is backwards in Britain. He also had lots of problems trying to navigate the roundabouts at first, but he finally got used to it by the time we reached St. Andrews. The Brits may have crazy driving laws, but we still love them for their tea.

St. Andrews is a gorgeous little Scottish town on the shores of the North Sea with buildings that remind me of Edinburgh, but on a much smaller scale. At one end of town, you can explore gorgeous ruins of an abbey that was built in the 12^th century. We walked through where the abbey used to be (you can still see the bases of the walls), and we went through the cemetery. Most of the tombstones we found were from the 1800s, but you could find the occasional headstone from the 1700s. Dad also found one where Mr. Jon Jamieson was buried with his wife Mrs. Jane Jamieson, née Johnston. He took a picture because he thought that was cool.

Next, we went to the little castle right on the beach. This castle isn’t nearly as impressive as the towering protector in Edinburgh: the St. Andrews castle is dilapidated and tiny, but its ruins still have a transfixing beauty that kept us occupied for a good hour or two. Mom was surprised that there were still wildflowers growing in the grass, because they have mostly gone at home.

The St. Andrews university is the oldest university in Scotland, and therefore one of the oldest universities in the world. Probably because of this, there is an old tradition that students still follow today: they wear red flannel robes to denote their status as students, and the robes are worn differently for each year of school. First years must wear them up over their shoulders, second years wear them off the shoulder, third years wear them off one shoulder (but which shoulder depends on what they are studying), and fourth years wear them down near the middle of their backs. It’s pretty cool to see them walking around like this, but I think I’d get tired of wearing red all the time.

Our final trip in St. Andrews was to the famed golf course, the Links at St. Andrews, where golf has many of its roots. Pépé and Dad were really excited when we found out we could walk on the paths that snake through the separate courses. They both had “EEE!” moments, and you could see them both taking tons of pictures. I found a golf ball in the middle of some deep grass for Pépé, and we both hope that nobody went looking for it a few minutes later. We tried to go have some afternoon tea at the old golf course club house, but to our dismay it was for members only, and we had left the newer club house behind in favour of the history. Instead of walking back, we ended up in a hotel restaurant and had tea and scones to restore ourselves after the 2-hour walk.

After our tea, we climbed back in the car to drive up to Pitlochery, up through the mountain roads of the highlands. We didn’t get a real taste of the highlands, though: we were hardly in the mountains at all. We saw lots of sheep, but to Dad’s disappointment, none of the shaggy, horned “heilan’ coo” that he would raise were he to live in the highlands. He told me that he’d rather raise cows than sheep because he knows more about cows.

We tried to stop at a beautiful bed and breakfast that looked like a castle (and probably was), but it wanted ₤70 per person for the night. As soon as we heard that, we got back in the car and drove further into town. We stopped to have tea at a restaurant called Victoria’s, behind which Mom made a wonderful discovery. The Scottish Tourism Board had given the B&B behind the restaurant three stars, so we immediately went in to see how much it cost. At a more reasonable ₤27 per person, we were very excited to take them up on the offer. Afterwards, we went to a different restaurant, where I had duck for the first time, Pépé had venison, Dad had salmon, and Mom had the somewhat less traditionally Scottish chicken shish kebab.

The next morning, we piled once more in the car (Dad elated that he remembered to drive on the left side of the road) and went to Edradour, the smallest whiskey distillery in Scotland (and therefore the smallest Scotch Whiskey distillery in the world). We started off with a quick taste of whiskey each – at 9:40 in the morning, no less; a proper Scottish breakfast. Our tour lasted only an hour, so small is the distillery, but the entire way it smelled sugary sweet and probably made us all slightly drunk on just the fumes. At the end, we tasted some more whiskeys and went to the shop to buy a few bottles. I got a cream liqueur. On the tour, we were told how this liqueur is made, but we had to promise we’d never tell anyone the secret. Let me tell you, though, if I could get cows drunk every night and drink their milk the next morning, I’d have some of the best milk those cows could offer.

On our way out of town, we stopped at a stereotypically Scottish pub, and had stereotypically Scottish meals. Pépé tried haggis in a somewhat altered form, wrapped in a steak. Dad had a meat and veggie pie, I had a steak and ale pie, and Mom had fish and chips (finally going Scottish on us). It was a good meal in a nice atmosphere, but it was so cliché compared to a lot of the other places that I have been so far. We got back in time for Mom, Dad, and Pépé to catch their plane to Paris, and for me to go take an Italian test. I had a glass of my drunken cow milk after dinner, and went to sleep around 10 – 5 hours before I normally do when there are people making noise on the street.

They made me tired again

Today started when my alarm didn't go off at 8:00, and I woke up at 8:54 instead. This was a problem because I was supposed to meet Mom and Dad at 9:30 at their bed and breakfast, and it was a full half an hour for me to walk there (as a poor college student, I don't spend the pound it takes to ride the bus). I quickly showered, changed, and walked over, only to find that I missed them by five minutes. We caught up again when I found them on Nicholson.

We began our day by going to Holyrood Palace, a really cool experience because it included a view of the Queen's Gallery, where Flemish paintings are currently on display, as well as an audio tour of the palace itself. We saw Mary, Queen of Scots' bedchamber, as well as the king's apartments, the queen's apartments, the throne room, and more superfluous rooms galore. We also went through the Queen's Garden and the remains of an abbey beside which the palace was built. Our time between the gallery and the palace was well spent having a cup of tea in the courtyard between the two.

We then went to a pub for lunch before attempting to climb Holyrood up to Arthur's Seat. I'm not sure Mom was prepared for the hike, but she waited a good way up while Dad and I took the rest of the journey to the top. Dad liked the free entertainment, as well as the impressive views of the city, even though he was sure that Jamie, Monique and I are all in cahoots to kill him for his life insurance, and this was how we planned to do it. (It didn't work.)

We climbed back up the Royal Mile, then down to Prince's Street to see the Scott Monument and to show them around a less touristy part of town. There was an Andy Warhol exhibition that ended today at the National Galleries on Prince's Street, but we got there twenty minutes before the museum closed. Oh well. We got some cool pictures of the Campbells Soup cans that currently adorn the pillars at the entrance.

Back up to the Royal Mile, and we went to a place called Chocolate Soup for some of the best hot chocolate Mom and I have ever had. Dad had coffee. We stopped off back at my flat for a bit in order to grab scarves, because we were going to go on a ghost tour to round off our night.

After dinner at Garfunkel's, we walked to the castle to see it all lit up in the darkness. It was really a cool sight, and similar to one that I quite often see walking through the Grassmarket on my way to clubs with my friends. We also decided on a couple of ways Mom and Dad could spend Tuesday without me (alas, I have class until 3), then went back to St. Giles cathedral to meet our tour guide for the ghost tour.

Our tour was actually quite entertaining, mostly due to our tour guide. We were told some (highly embellished) stories of the history of Edinburgh while walking through various closes (thin alleyways). Dad was whipped and had his ears cut off for treason, and Mom and I were accused of being witches - me because of my red hair, and Mom because the tour guide didn't want me to have to stand up in front of everybody alone. We ended up inside chambers built in the pillars that hold up bridges that cross over the lower-level roads in the city, something that I never would have been able to do if it weren't for the tour. These chambers are in the Guinness World Records as the most haunted place in the world. It was quite cool. After the tour, we each had a glass of lager as our tour guide told more stories to the group.

I left Mom and Dad at their bus stop, again hoping that they would make it home safe, but I don't see them until Tuesday because tomorrow they are daytripping to Glasgow. They will take the train there and back, and then spend Tuesday in Edinburgh before we all (well, my accompaniment is still up in the air because of class on Thursday) toodle off to St. Andrews on Wednesday for an overnight journey. Should be a fun time.

Look for Dad's pictures at pinkplaidwellies.shutterfly.com

Mom and Dad make me tired.

Today was a long day. I woke up at 8:30 - which, when living on the Cowgate is not an easy feat because you have drunkards screaming out your window until 3 AM - so I could shower, get dressed, and catch the bus to the airport. I arrived at 10:05, they had landed at 9:52, and they came out of baggage claim around 10:30. From there, we went to their Bed and Breakfast, which is small but clean and in a very residential part of town.

After showers for them, we began walking up Nicholson, the main road into town. I figured it wouldn't be a long walk (of course, I walk everywhere since I got here), but I had forgotten exactly how far the taxi took us, and it was uphill all the way. Mom was knackered. About twenty minutes after leaving, we found a pub where we had lunch. Mom and Dad both had fish and chips, and I had chicken tikki masala.

From there, we walked up Nicholson, and I showed them a couple of places on the way to my flat. Mom and Dad think my room is small, but Mom took a nap in my bed while Dad and I walked for an hour and a half on the Royal Mile, the tourist-laden road that leads up to the castle. Mom agrees that the bed is dead hard and difficult to sleep on, especially with all the noise coming up from the street.

When we woke her up, Dad and I took Mom to the Royal Mile with us. I, for one, am used to the hills by now and don't think twice anymore about walking up and down them, but Mom was still way tired from the trip and had a hard time getting up the long, steep hill which is the quickest route from the Cowgate (my road) to the Royal Mile. I guess they didn't go on enough long walks before coming here, but I'll take it easy on them from now on.

We went into St. Giles' Cathedral, which Dad tells me is the birthplace of Protestantism (probably something he learned from his guidebook). He kept asking me when we were walking up to it, "But what's so great about it?" I told him about fifty times that it is absolutely gorgeous inside, but I'm not sure he believed me until he saw it. He did take a picture, but technically you're supposed to buy a photography pass for two quid, so he only took the one.

From there, we went up to the castle. I think Mom and Dad were really impressed, especially by the Honours of Scotland - the crown jewels and the Stone of Destiny. Again, though, the hills and stairways in the castle tired Mom and Dad out. They did like, however, to see the soldiers' dogs cemetery, as well as Mons Meg - a huge cannon, a picture of which you can see from my first visit to the castle.

We then went to the Scotch Whiskey Experience, something I knew they'd enjoy both for learning about scotch whiskey and for the hour of sitting and relaxing. In the tasting, we were given a dram of Balentines each, which Dad says he used to drink in his youth because it was all he could afford. It wasn't very good, let me tell you. After the first sip, you're offered some mixers, so I put some Irn-Bru into mine - the first time I'd mixed scotch and Scotland's favourite pop. I quite enjoyed the results, and so did Mom: we both think that the sweetness in the Irn-Bru really complimented the whiskey. Dad thought it was too sweet. We then learned about the distilling process and the history of scotch whiskey.

From there, we went to a restaurant back on Nicholson called Ciao Roma. The waiters all had Italian accents, which was pretty cool. Our dinner was delicious, which was even better, especially after a long day of tourist-ness. By 7:30, Mom and Dad were at a bus stop waiting to get back to their B&B, which I hope they actually do end up finding. I guess we'll see tomorrow, because I'm supposed to meet them at 9:30.

Dad's pictures will eventually go on my Shutterfly page so that it's easier to share them with everybody. Pepe comes on Wednesday and they'll be touring around Scotland without me, but we'll probably meet up again on Thursday before they go to Paris. I join them Friday morning, and we'll see what sort of plans they have for themselves after that. Don't worry, I'll keep them safe and make sure they don't get lost!

Culinary Adventures

My first Scottish taste adventure was, of course, scotch whiskey during my Arcadia orientation. We were taught how to appreciate a good draft of whiskey, how to appreciate the colour, the body, the smell, the bouquet, the way the taste stays in your mouth after you've swallowed it. It was an interesting experience, to be sure, and I really enjoyed it. The whiskey was good; learning about the history afterwards was also fun. And there are so many places to go on the Royal Mile to find and taste more whiskey that it would take an entire day to visit them all, after which I am sure you would be slightly drunk.

Next came McEwan's beer, a locally-brewed classic whose profits built the beautiful McEwan Hall on campus. It's a light beer with a nice, refreshing taste that can be enjoyed many places here in Edinburgh, but most especially at McEwan's Pub on Nicholson Street. This is a beer to be enjoyed on tap, rather than in a bottle or can, surrounded by old men who stop and stare when six university-aged students walk in at 5:00 on a Sunday afternoon, taking a short break from the newsroom in the basement of the student societies' building, the Pleasance.

Irn-Bru (pronounced Iron Brew) follows, a bright orange soft drink that outsells Coke in the UK. It is not an orange-flavoured pop: rather, it tastes a lot like bubble gum, with only the slightest hint of citrus. A drink often mixed with vodka or whiskey by the over-18 population, it is supposedly sold in Canada, South Africa, Singapore, Russia, and Australia, as well as the entirety of the UK, Ireland, and the Middle East. They've also come out with Irn-Bru 32, an offshoot that is meant to rival Red Bull, and something which today near the student union Irn-Bru representatives are passing out free to get students addicted as soon as possible. I was given two cans, and I have yet to crack open either one.

Finally, we come to the famous HAGGIS. What can I say about haggis? A group of went to a greasy-spoon restaurant (called City Restaurant, how creative) after clubbing one night. Charlie and Eve shared an order of haggis and chips, I shared a pizza with Kate and Ally, and Joni just got a plate of chips to herself. Well, remembering that I, the foreigner, had never tasted haggis before, everyone decided it was time I had a bite. It looked like a sausage, tasted like black pepper and ground beef, and had the consistency of ground beef and thick oatmeal mixed together. That is, of course, essentially what it was. As wonderful as it tasted, it's not something I am going to actively search out in the future.