I was in Scotland once.....
If its not Scottish Its's Crap! - one of those hilarious catch phrases from SNL that I love. Actually I was in Scotland once before cell phones, personal computers, or the Euro.
Initially we started out in London where I wore a new white denim jacket, but it was unfashionable to wear anything but black in London. Black just goes better with dark, cold overcast skies and sophisticated cities.
acutely aware of some of the strange nuances in British english I had explicitly asked my brother never to ask for a napkin at a restaurant. The first thing he did, was ask for a napkin. I wish I could describe the humor and embarrassment I felt, but the server didn't even flinch.
Not long after trying to blend in, I blew my cover and nearly stepped out in front of a moving taxi. I consider myself to be cautious and observant, but I made a classic and potentially dangerous mistake at a cross walk where traffic was heavy. An inch from death I stepped back quickly and felt a rush of air. Ironically, I looked down to see a sign on the pavement, LOOK right then left! The taxi driver shook his fist cursing something. You may have just as well tacked a sign on my back - Hi Non-Londoner.
After London I contacted a friend in Scotland. She had been working there, and ended up getting married there, so she and her husband took us in for a couple days. The second day, they took us to Hadrian's Wall, an ancient Roman site I had wanted to see. There wasn't much left left of the ruins, but I saw green rolling hills, ate Shepard's pie, had high tea with cream and sugar, and hot buttered scones. Hadrian's Wall was the stopping point for the Romans, as they couldn't defeat the Scots. The Scots, known as Picts at that time, never lost their territory or fell to the invading armies of Rome. I don't think too many cultures can claim that little known fact.
Afterwards we switched to a small bed and breakfast further north into Scotland. Once we reached Edinburg, I had a lot of trouble understanding the heavier accent. My brother did better, and began acting as an interpreter. I know it sounds absurd, but it was also comical and made us laugh.
The height of miscommunication happened one morning at the Norton House Hotel in Scotland. The front desk called our room, and I answered hearing a Scottish woman asking me something but I couldn't understand her. Feeling frustrated, I gripped the phone and repeated "what?" annoyingly a few times. Finally she took a very very deep breath and said as slow as she could manage, "Dooooo yaaa wannnnnnttt a newsssspaperrrrrrrrrr rrrr rrrrr?" (Do you want a newspaper?)
"Yes thank you," I replied and hung up quickly.
The special key fobs at that hotel were unusual - made of soft luxurious leather, meticulously stitched and printed. Throughout the hotel were warnings, reminders and signs that said you'd pay dearly if you took it. I stressed to my brother NOT to take the key. When I got home and unpacked, he had indeed placed it in my suitcase.
Both Scotland and England made an impression on me, so I'm glad I made it there. The sites are wonderful to see, but I found the unexpected laughable details and the pleasant way we were treated were the true details worth experiencing. By the way - If its Not Scottish Its Crap! Incase you haven't seen the SNL show I'm referring to:
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