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Tag Archives: Aberdeen

Driving on the wrong side of right

30 Sunday Oct 2011

Posted by Anne in Scotland, Travel

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Aberdeen, Britian, Challenge, Driving, Drumnadrochit, Maps, Scotland

About one year ago I visited Scotland with a few friends. We flew to Aberdeen, rented a car and drove down to Glasgow. That was my first time driving on the wrong side of the road. I enjoy a good challenge, and definitely saw this as one. I had checked out the route before I left on google maps, the largest roundabouts I had been through in street view and I had studied in detail the exit from the motorway. We stayed at a central hotel without parking facilities, which meant we had to park IN the city centre. I was armed with a gps, printed driving instructions from google, and a friend who is not unfamiliar with maps, and most importantly, who never looses his calm!

I lived in Aberdeen for a few months and have left the city to go south by bus a few times, the first few hours were thus not the most challenging. However, my TomTom is apparently not a fan of fast-food so that when we stopped at a McDonalds, he refused to guide us any further. Truth be told; we only stopped at McDonalds to use the loo, but TomTom wouldn’t listen to us. In fact, he’s still not talking to me! Getting from Aberdeen to Glasgow is easy. We still bought a map to keep track on where in the world we were from time to time. We faced no problems, although we did manage to drive in circles in the city centre of Glasgow (we had directions going TO the hotel, not from) and I was dangerously close to the pavement at one point (no pedestrians there though).

The route we were supposed to take from Aberdeen to Drumnadrochit

Going to Scotland again now I had to raise the stakes a bit and increase the challenge. The route was new, I had no gps, no maps, I had not looked much at the route before going, and I had no idea how my fantastic travel companions would deal with google’s driving instructions.

Two of the three of us going came to Aberdeen a couple of hours before the third. The wonderful lady I talked about here thus had to suffer through the first minutes and miles spent in a dark Vauxhall. We were heading straight down a road. I’m on the alert, sitting on the wrong side in the car, shifting gears with the wrong hand, checking the blind spot on both sides to be on the safe side and generally trying to breath as little as possible to keep all my attention on the road and the traffic. We knew we were going left in a roundabout, but we didn’t know exactly which one. Obviously, the first we tried was not the correct one. Seeing this, my mind started to race trying to find somewhere to turn around. Then I see the flashing blue lights in the rear-view mirror; an ambulance was coming up quickly behind us. We fond a smaller roundabout, so we turned around and went back up the same road we had just gone down, and were then soon back on track again. I sighed with relief from not having done anything to hinder the ambulance. Then I check the rear-view mirror again. The ambulance has of course also gone all the way around in the roundabout and is coming up behind us again! We made it up on the pavement, we didn’t bulk any cars nor did we hit any pedestrians, and the ambulance did not lose speed. What went through the head of my innocent passenger is, however, something I wish never to know. She was able to talk again only a few minutes later, and the heavy breathing stopped as soon we parked in a parking lot a few miles away.

We picked up the last member of our fearless trio a few hours later, after having had her wait outside at the airport while we took an unnecessary, but interesting, wee ride through the industrial area which just happened to be at the right turn before the right turn we were supposed to take.

An hour north of Aberdeen we decided to look for a supermarket or something where we could find a quick bite. The gorgeous blonde in the backseat spotted Asda on the right side of the road. To exit we had to go through a large roundabout (yes the Brits do love their roundabouts). We entered it and drove turning right. I saw the exit, but there were no cars going in the same direction as us, nor anyone coming from the road we were entering. The scene felt so unnatural and so wrong that I was unable to make the exit. “Rebooting, sorry about the delay!” I said as I took the girls through the roundabout one more time before heading over to Asda.

Safely parked outside the B&B in Drumnadrochit

We were going to visit a friend of mine, but an exit in Dufftown were probably just not aesthetically pleasing enough for us. Instead we drove circles around, perfectly avoiding the wee town, for at least an hour(!). We did, however, reach Drumnadrochit in due time for our dinner reservation at the Fiddler’s. My companions claimed the driving had not scarred them for life before they nearly downed a bottle of wine.

Home away from home

24 Monday Oct 2011

Posted by Anne in Scotland, Travel

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Aberdeen, Cruden Bay, Don, Dunnottar, Dyce, Scotland, Slains Castle, Stonehaven, Travelling

It was a cold and windy Friday morning. I was getting my pulse up making sure everything I needed was in the suitcase. It was not at all an early flight I had to catch, but my brain has proved over and over that it works best under pressure – five minutes before I should be out the door is when the brain decides to wake up and remind me of everything that should come with me across the fjord. This never fails. This morning I also wanted to take Son to kindergarten as I would not get to enjoy his company for the next four days.

The day before I had called Charlotte at the Craigmonie B&B to make sure our reservation was ok. She had a wonderful Scottish accent. I was in my office by myself, and as I hung up the phone I closed my eyes, her voice echoed in my head and the butterflies took flight. I smiled, drew my breath and could finally feel that the trip was just around the corner.

At the airport I was greeted by one of the world’s most wonderful ladies. Our eyes met and our smiles widened, yes, we had both been smiling to ourselves. We checked in, walked through security and found ourselves on the path to a new adventure.

Due to a full plane my travel companion had been seated with a group of coffee drinking Brits, I was placed among alcohol consuming Scandinavians. Accompanied by a slightly drunk Dane, who sat closest to the window, I first saw land. The cliffs and beaches of the eastern coast of Scotland stretched out in front of me. I looked north, knowing that I couldn’t, but still hoped to, catch a glimpse of Slains Castle near Cruden Bay. Then I looked in the opposite direction, hoping we were far enough south for me to spot Dunnottar Castle near Stonehaven. Both were too far away. The wee plane descended a little as we flew over land. As if the pilot knew how thrilled I was to be back, the short flight over the city became a short sightseeing tour for me. I saw Union street break up the maze of roads beneath me, the hospital was still there and I could see the railway lines running out of the city. Under us, on the right, just escaping my view, was the University, the football stadium, the view from my former lecture room and the room in which I spent no more than a few months. We crossed the Don and Dyce appeared. The plane steadily descended. I saw the roads, I knew the shops, many of the signs were still the same. And I saw the road which we would soon follow north. The plane touched the ground and shortly after came to a halt in front of the terminal.

It felt like coming home. I get the same feeling when I have been on vacation and return home after being gone for weeks. I only spent a few months in this country, I’ve spent more time in other countries, but still this feels special. There is a comfortable and safe feeling connected to this place, a country of which I’ve still only seen very little. There is no logical explanation, still I must admit, it feels like home. 

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