Kango Suz Travels

The first time I traveled abroad I wanted ‘adventure’ and ’spontaneity’ in my travel plans. So I didn’t plan my route ahead of time and I didn’t make reservations at the hostels I was planning on staying in. I figured that I would decide the day before where I was going to go and then call to reserve a bed for the following night. My first 3 and last 3 days were going to be spent with my Grandmother at my Aunt’s house in Bradford so I would have some time on the ground to get acclimated before setting out.

It seemed like a good plan at the time, little did I know what would happen…

I got to Bradford (with Grandma and luggage) in fine shape. Then I found out that it was the Queen’s 50th anniversary of her coronation. And a major Bank Holiday. The train from Bradford to Edinburgh was crowded. Searching for a seat I walked through car after car. Finally, relived, I stashed my backpack in the overhead storage and collapsed into a seat in a semi-empty car for my first-ever train ride. Whoops. First class. Completely embarrassed when the proper and very British conductor came by, I paid the $$ out of pocket for the upgrade and enjoyed a little bit more comfort than I would for the rest of my trip.

Edinbourgh was lovely. I wandered up and down the winding streets soaking up the crowed atmosphere and the bumpy cobblestones. The castle was a thrill and the crown jewels were particularly exciting- mostly because there was a theft scare in the middle of my viewing of them! Guards came tramping into the tight hallways, their leather Bobyclubs creaking as they slid past those of us in line. Uniformed National Trust workers ushered confused and disappointed visitors like myself down back hallways and turning staircases until we found ourselves out on the courtyard where we had started out.

Most dispersed almost immediately, but I hung around- wanting to see the jewels I had stood in line for. After about 20 minutes of sitting in the courtyard, one of the NT workers waved us back into the building. No line, no waiting, just walking through formerly crowed corridors and suddenly there they were. Not stolen, not harmed, not moved- the jewels that had been worn by Scottish kings and queens for centuries. Beautiful and gaudy and strangely awe-inspiring. I felt a strange filial pride there in that room, and the presence of a still-strong independent streak that marks Scotland even though it is technically part of the United Kingdom.

Back on the street, I found a payphone and changed several pounds so that I could find myself a place to stay. I called every place in the city. Hostels. B&Bs. Hotels. Nowhere. Panic began to rise. I was barely 20 years old, a young woman traveling solo. I couldn’t just sleep on the street.

Almost frantic with panic that I would have to sleep out in public, I made my way back to the train station at the base of the Edinburgh cliffs. Desperate, I pulled out a map of the train route and called every hostel in every town along the train route north of the city. The first town…full. The second town… full. The third… full. I was truly scared. I called Inverness, the town I was headed to the next day- they were full and so was everyone else in town.

Eating Mars Bars as fast as I could to distract the rising gorge in my stomach, I went back to my original plan. I called the fourth town on the route. Pitlochry. They had a hostel. On the other end of the line the phone rang. Once. Twice… Three times… On the fourth ring an out-of-breath sounding guy answered. Yes, they had a room for the night! I thanked him profusely and begged him to hold it for me, I’d be coming in on the last train. He said he’d hold it for me, but that they had numerous beds so there wasn’t really a rush.

Hanging up the phone, I cried with relief. I wasn’t going to have to sleep in the train station. A little blip on the map was saving me- heaven rested in Pitlochry.

 Print This Post

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 20th, 2007 at 2:23 pm and is filed under Scotland, Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.