Heather the Highland Cow

Of course a group of Americans would join together in Scotland to cook a Thanksgiving meal in February. Although it would not have been complete without the company of Savage Garden and other 90's classic artists in the background. Yes, just the other evening I dined with the finest of my New England friends and enjoyed a plethora of mashed potatoes.

I'm sure you are familiar with the dance scene in Titanic with Jack and his hooligan friends? Well, my past Friday night was quite similar yet with a Scottish influence. Scotland offers its citizens this beautiful event called a "Ceilidh". It's simply a Scottish social gathering with traditional folk music, dancing, men in kilts, and more dancing. Did I mention dancing was involved? I went to this shindig with little if any expectation, seeing as though I've had minimal exposure to Scottish culture. I was pleasantly surprised and amazed that everyone was capable of twirling and dancing for hours on end. If this thought hadn't crossed my mind previously, it has now.. I am in search for a Scottish man to marry, simply for the guarantee of kilts and a ceilidh at my wedding.

On the topic of kilts, I was recently exposed to a mass amount of men in kilts. One man even bent over for me and pulled up his kilt (with a garder belt on his thigh)and demanded that I slap his left butt cheek. You see, this moment wouldn't have happened unless my friend Amy hadn't been stopped in the middle of the road by a Frenchman. As this man was walking towards her, he was incapable of walking around her and had her cornered in the middle of the road for maybe a few seconds. Somehow while I was left alone for this moment in time, a drunk Scottish man ran up to me and lifted his kilt in the moment. Amy looked up to her dismay to see my hand raised about to slap his cheek. Neither of us expected that minute would have brought such male encounters.

Earlier that day we joined our friend Mike to the Scotland vs. France 6 nations rugby match in Edinburgh. Amy and I spent a majority of our morning trying on over sized rugby shirts at tourist shops along the Royal Mile, and ended up investing in a Scottish football scarf to represent Scotland. As we walked to the stadium the sea of people were dressed in their finest kilts and the echoes of bagpipes could be heard for miles. It was a day that I realized, wow I am in Scotland. The stadium seats 70,000 and it was nearly packed. Our seats happened to be on the same row as the royal family.. ya know, like Queen Elizabeth? Well, apparently her sister and some other family members were there enjoying the match and we happened to be quite near to their seats. I felt cool for a few moments when I realized this. Scotland lost, but the experience of watching such a brutal game and the sight of such loyal fans to their countries was unforgettable. Later that night around 11:00 was the Superbowl, and I somehow gained the stamina to watch another sporting event that day. The pub that was licensed to stay open late enough to play the game offered its guests hot dogs and burgers. oh America, land of meat and sporting events which draw more attention than our presidential inauguration.

I anticipate every winter season with the promise of at least a few good rides in Tahoe before I head to San Diego. However this year, having left at the beginning of January, I was in fear of living through an entire winter season without a snowboard to my feet. But, sometimes things work out when we least expect them too and my friend Fraz offered to take Amy and I up to Glenshee Scotland for the day to go riding. I of course agreed to this day venture, and was overjoyed to experience the ski culture in Scotland. It was interesting, to say the least. The "mountain" had no trees in sight, and the highest elevation point was just over 3,000 feet. I felt like I was trapped in a ski resort from the early 60s.. one where the only lifts were t-bars. I made the most of it, and I at least got my snowboard fix for this season.

I've yet to run with a herd of sheep... but I have seen Heather, the highland cow.