Volume 27 · Number 4 · Summer 2010
Aggies Abroad Essay
A Semester in “Auld Reekie”: My Love Affair with Edinburgh
On the train from London to Edinburgh, the English countryside spread out before me: wild heather, cobblestone roads, church spires, and, finally, the moors. In the distance, I envisioned the Bronte sisters, arm in arm, adjusting their bonnets and discussing their stories. In this landscape George Eliot, Jane Austen, and Charles Dickens had also walked. The land seemed so deeply mired in history, so verdant, and I did not want to miss anything. That summer, as a senior about to graduate with a B.A. in English, I had decided to spend my final semester in Scotland studying Scottish literature. Who could ask for a better finale?
As the train pulled into Edinburgh’s Waverly Station, people spilled out from every platform. The Edinburgh Festival, a weeklong event filled with plays, films, and musical performances, was about to begin. The city vibrated with energy. I couldn’t wait to be a part of it. I wedged my way through the crowd to find my suitcase, and then, lugging my gear outside, I peered around, trying to get my bearings. The air smelled weird and wonderful — a complex “bouquet” of yeast and hops, like baking bread, beer, and flowers. (I learned later that the local breweries create the unique smell, hence the nickname “Auld Reekie” or “Old Smelly”).
The next few weeks swirled with colors, sights, and sounds. After morning classes at the university, the city was mine. Some days, I took my books to the botanical gardens and studied among a wonderland of roses; other days, I bought an egg and watercress sandwich from Marks and Spencers and ate lunch up on Castle Hill. Reading Waverly while sitting on a crag beneath the castle felt like a dream come true. Later, when clouds moved across the sun, I’d pack up to find a cup of tea. At night, Shakespeare was everywhere. Most memorable was a production of Hamlet, starring Kenneth Branagh. I’ll never forget how Hamlet, in his forlorn state, wandered completely naked onto the stage, asking the question, “To be or not to be…” and how my eyes nearly popped out of my head. Hamlet’s naked agony became real. That night, as I crept through the winding passages between the old tenement buildings back to my dorm, I could almost feel the spirits’ cold hands on the back of my neck
That summer, literature became more than pages in a book. The door of time had opened just a crack, and for a few moments, I was able to walk through it. At night in my dormitory, listening to the creaks and groans of those old walls, I imagined the thousands of people who had lived in the building — all of us remotely connected in time and space. How many people, I wondered, had peered out of my window? Had the world opened up for them as it had for me? When I returned to Davis to attend my graduation ceremony, my diploma felt good in my hands; I had earned it.
Back to list of Aggies Aboard Essays