Scotland reminiscences
Posted by Ashley on September 22nd, 2006Last night I think I had my first cathartic moment regarding Scotland. I really do miss Edinburgh. What tipped me off, funnily enough, was driving home by the Miller brewery (which I even cringe to use that word associated with Miller) and how awful the hops smelled. I called Bryce will driving 80 mph down the freeway and asked if he remembered what Edinburgh smelled like exactly. Unfortunately he couldn’t talk as he was in the middle of making dinner and so I was forced to think about it by myself. For those of you who don’t know, Edinburgh often smells a lot like the hops brewing from the Caledonian brewery on the east side of the city; when the wind is blowing (which, as you can imagine, is very frequent) you can often smell it: it’s sometimes described as akin to a burnt peanut taste. (Edinburgers, feel free to put in your 2 pence on that one).
It made me sad. I can describe what the city smells like, but I can’t recall the smell any longer. This lead me down the path of remembering lots of things I miss about Edinburgh and it’s mainly the people: David and Neyir, friends from Uni, the Stubbs, the Courts, Melissa and Allan, parties in our flat (particularly memorable for many reasons was our Thanksgiving party for 17), my little office on the 4th floor, hearing British accents everywhere and carrying groceries home. I miss walking. I feel like I’m gaining weight just sitting here typing. Sadly most people are more than the 10 pounds overweight that I am, so they think I’m just fine. But it’s true, nobody walks in L.A.
Now this is sounding all romanticized. When I met with Susan, my supervisor, at Berkeley I told her I felt like I needed to have some breakdown since I’d rather easily slid back into my California self; she remarked that being comfortable everywhere is the sign of the cosmopolitan. So either I am now a cosmopolite or am hopelessly bifurcated between locational selves. Either way, I guess what is miss is the familiarity of Edinburgh. I knew how my days would go; I knew where things were. I knew what to expect. I know all of those things here, too, to an extent anyway.
I don’t have any amazing conclusions from any of this; I guess it’s just part of the grieving process involved with any major life move. It’ll be interesting to go back in March when I’ll feel the city to be a bit of a stranger to me then as it’s progressed past my memories.
