field journal // .10 – edinburgh, scotland

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We do and see so much each day that I know if I don’t quick record what’s happened and throw some pictures up somewhere, this whole trip will just be a big old jumble in my mind by the end. I have the worst memory.  So here’s some pictures from our wanderings in Edinburg, which is about a 20-30 minute bus ride from where we’re living. 4 pounds will get you an all day bus pass to wander to your hearts desire, a deal we’ve been taking up. These field journals act as an online scrapbook for me, which I find really fun and a good way to keep track of everything that’s happening. I’m writing a longer post about what I’ve been learning here, which I will also share soon.

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I though these telephone booths were just a made up stereotype , but they are actually everywhere here!

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Slay, ladies.

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Cliche, but true? For me, it’s pretty safe to assume I’m always lost though.

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This particular day involved taking a tour of the Scottish reformation and it’s historic spots in Edinburg, wandering through little shops, eating at “Cheeky Nandos” which is just a chain chicken restaurant with all this cultural hype to it over here that we don’t really get but were happy to participate in, and getting lost. That’s pretty common when we’re out wandering on our own, seeing as we have a hard time getting cell service here for gps. Thankfully, it’s a pretty small city and my friends have a much better sense of direction than I could ever hope to claim, so it works out.

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The Elephant House is a tea shop were JK Rowling wrote some of her books. I’m sure it used to be a very sweet cafe, and still is, but is also full of tourists photographing the front sign. We were more than happy to join them. My sweet friend Annie gave us a writing prompt and we tried to start our own novels while sitting at the front window, which resulted in some lovely photographs, but no great stories. I wrote one sentence; “Removing yourself from your own narrative is the most impossible part of putting life on paper.” aka I absolutely despise fiction writing and cannot do it.

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Inspiration did not strike.

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Sorry, we couldn’t help ourselves. Google “haggis” if you don’t know what it is.  

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