Play Tourist

As I write, I’m sitting in The Burgh Coffeehouse, a delightful and warm cafe filled with empire biscuits, chai lattes, and Christmas lights. Copies of the Encyclopedia Britannica line the wall, their thick bindings hanging near my head. Espresso makers whiz on the floor above. On these freezing, dark afternoons, this atmosphere is perfect for writing inspiration.

But the last two days have been bright and sunny. I joined some flatmates at a Glasgow shopping trip yesterday, complete with a tour of St. Enoch’s, scoring jewelry from the Christmas Market, hiking to the Glasgow Cathedral, standing at the top of the Necropolis, and ending the day with a warm mug of homemade German mulled wine (what I like to call “Autumn in a Cup”).

And since the semester is over, and I finished the Friday lecture I didn’t expect to have (it’s okay — I won a book from my Screenwriting Professor!), I’ve spent a few slow and steady days to myself. It’s been rainy, under thirty-two degrees, and I’m just proud of myself when I get up on Sunday and find a church to visit. The days blur together, an overwhelming cycle of boredom and excitement and anxiety and thankfulness.

Most friends have exams. Most friends spend train rides listening to lectures rather than Christmas albums. I really am blessed. I can explore Stirling at a pace that is all my own. I can converse with strangers, put smiles on old women’s faces, and shop for presents to bring home to loved ones. I’m playing tourist again.

Here’s a collection of photographs from Stirling, in both days of rain and days of sun.

Cowane’s Hospital, across from Church of Holy Rude. It was closed :(

Scottish countryside from the hilltop at Holy Rude Kirkyard.

Opposite view of the Kirkyard.

A sophisticated-looking Manor (?) now used as a hotel.

Ruins of a fortress below Church of the Holy Rude. I’ve walked these streets several times, and finally noticed it!

View of the street behind a schoolyard gate.

These images are from the last few days in November. I’ve met plenty of people through these walks, all who ask about my accent. When they hear “North Carolina”, responses vary — “Oh, I always fly through Charlotte! I’ve been around there.” Or, “One time when I was about your age, I was invited to grow a Tobacco farm in America. Does North Carolina grow tobacco?” or, “I watch the YouTubers Rhett and Link. They’re from that state…” (This came from a professionally-suited Scotsman at a lavish kilt tailor).

Not enough conversations to write books about, but enough to remember and laugh about in the future.

Sun shining on the Stirling Bridge.

Clock tower I pass on the route to town.

The beautiful police station!

Average street spread.

A town monument to William Wallace.

The delightful place I’m writing!

I’m thankful I took these shots of town. I tried to make the most of my photography set, but my camera skills are sub-par. Still, little days like these help the rest of my time slow down. Help me relax. Help me feel happy.

Maybe, when I return to Wilmington, I’ll need to play tourist in my real college town.