Scotland in my heart, literally

In the beginning of March I went to a trip to Fairy Glen (more about that adventure hopefully soon),
I was truly taken away by the beauty of this country that Nory, our tourguide, introduced to us.

That is when it really occured to me - that I truly, madly, deeply love this country. Instead of a usual "smile pose" I spontaneously did a heart pose.

Here it is:

I really liked that picture and I soon started taking the "heart pictures" on different places in Scotland.

And soon I gathered a little "heart collection". 

You are welcome to have a look.

This one is from the top of a hill above Aviemore. 
Middle of March, the top was still full of snow.

This one is in the Aviemore national park resort. I have never seen such a beautiful lake with such a clear water.

This one is from slightly illegal visit at the Urquhart castle in the middle of the night.

This one is from the top of a hill above a tiny little village called Drumnadrochit, or "Drum" as the locals call it.
The loch that you can see is the famous Loch Ness. 
Can you spot a monster on the photo? :)

Now...Did I ever mention my "bluebell mania" before?
I am not sure about it. 
Well, sometime during May, the ground in Scotland turns violet, covered in thick layers of amazing bluebells. The best place to see them is the park near the Wallace monument. 
Once I entered that place during the bluebell season, my jaw dropped and I struggled to catch a breath. It was so beautiful...dreamy...and magical. I don´t think that words can describe how beautiful that place was and how I felt as if I just entered  paradise.  
(I also plan to devote a separate post to bluebells some time soon)
Anyhow...here is a heart picture as well.

And in the end...one of my favourite pictures.
During our West Highland Way, just walking through Glencoe, I saw this stone with a small heart on it. 
What a lovely, lovely place Scotland is, seriously!

Does it rain a lot?

Surprisingly (or not), that was one of the first questions that anyone, that knew that I moved to Scotland, would be asking me.

/ An alternative would be...so how is the weather, is it so bad?

So, for all those people, who still might be wondering...

>

...here is a small post about the rain and the famously known Scottish weather.

NOTE: If you go to Scotland, there is a high chance that you will get rained on, no matter the season. 

My parents gave me, with a half evil, half worried smile a practical present before I went there. 

Yes, you are right.

An  umbrella.

But not just "an umbrella". It was an umbrella with Alfons Mucha (yes, you are right again, my favourite painter) decorations. 

 It was really pretty.

...WAS...

In the first 3 weeks I have been in Scotland, I got many compliments about it.

After 3 weeks it broke.

Correction...the Scottish wind broke it.

(just for an illustration, it looked like the top left one)

Now, does this give you a slight idea about the Scottish weather yet?

When I arrived at the Edinburgh airport for the first time. It was grey and cloudy. We had one of those planes, which do not connect you directly to the airport hall. So we actually had to go down the stairs and walk there. 

And you know what? It started raining! Nice start, wasn´t it?

Well...it certainly did not upset me. It made me smile, I was expecting that.

What I was not expecting that much:

1. My hair would be turning into a dangerously looking afro style by the humid air almost 24/7.

2. That I would be sweating really badly even if it was cold outside - humidity once again.

3. That the strong and cold wind would give me tonsillitis in my second week there.

Okey...now it might seem really bad, doesnt it? It is not that bad...I think!

My Scottish professor, that taught me in Prague, said to me once "If it rains, just wait 5 minutes."

And this is very true!

The Scottish weather changes all the time, it rarely rains for days and days.

Yes, it is quite likely that you will get rained on, but try waiting for 5 minutes. :)

Speaking of which...When I came to Scotland...I never understood how is it that I am the only weirdo with an umbrella? Don´t they mind being rained on? Don´t they care?

No, they don´t. Because they are just bloody used to it.

And soon so did I. When the Scottish  wind did not approve of my Alfons Mucha umbrella, I tried walking around with this slightly broken one, until I realised that it is no fun and gave up on the concept of an umbrella.

The only time that the weather really did piss me off, when it literally pissed (excuse my French) throughout the whole day on our last day of the West Highland Way walk.

Our seemingly water-proof clothes (as it claimed) got soaked within an hour and for the remaining 8 hours we were trapped in multiple layers of thoroughly wet clothing.

Here my friend Jocelyn is trying to look brave. I, on the other hand, am looking at the ground, trying not to step in the puddle (again) or sink my feet in the mud (again).

Here I am trying to give it "thumbs up", but my face it not even a bit convincing. Ben Nevis in the background.

I actually wanted to go up Ben Nevis the next day, but it was raining so badly that it would not be worth it.

I guess when the weather makes you cancel your planes, it kind of sucks. 

But that could happen anywhere.

Honestly, I was a bit worried before I went to Scotland. 

(yes, I am a worrier, that´s who I am, I can´t help it, get over it) 

I was worried that the grey colours and the constant rain would be depressing, as I love the colours and the sun.

Sometimes...I did miss the sun a bit.

But...I never was depressed and the colours never were grey to me. :)

And you know what?

I got sunburnt!

Twice!

Once, even when it was just in the middle of March.

Ok, not such a big deal, apparently it is not that uncommon to get a sunburn there as people (Laurelin) enlightened me.

And to be fair, I get sunburnt pretty easily.

But still ;)

How do I not regret an unlived happy life?

Since I came back from Scotland, those thoughts have been burning me alive.

How do I not regret?

How do I live with myself knowing I made a terrible decision?

How do I move on?

How do I convince myself that I am not unhappy?

How do I stop blaming myself for what I did and did not do?

>no, I did not kill or injure anyone, but I disappointed myself, deeply...and few others<

Few months ago, I had the opportunity to decide whether I want to keep studying in Stirling or if I should finish off in Prague. That is when the regrets started.

But let´s go back a little and see how it all started.

How did I chose to study abroad in Stirling in the first place?

I actually got into University of Glasgow, Edinburgh Napier University and University of Dundee too. Once I was to decide, I went on google images, pictures like this one 

came up and the choice was clear. :)

It was 100% University of Stirling for me. Even the word "Stirling" sounds beautiful, doesn´t it?

As you see, my decision was not really based on much brain activity and it was the best one I could have made.

>Though when I was to do the same, I failed to switch off my doubtful brain...and that is what caused all the damage.<

From the very beginning in Scotland, actually from the moment the wheels of the plane touched the runway in Edinburgh airport on the 31st of January, I knew that everything was going to be fine and my concerns about what awaits for me in the unknown were away. 

And...I was the happiest there I can ever recall. 

I met wonderful people, I enjoyed the uni, I loved the language, the country, the customs, the hikes and how everything was so unlike in the Czech Republic. And I was an adult, I communicated with my parents rarely and noone controlled me. It was just me, a 22 year-old person in a foreign country living an adult life.

I did miss my family, our dogs and friends at times, but nothing major.

And I knew....I knew that it was the right place for me. 

By mid-April I applied for finishing my studies at the University of Stirling. The answer was positive, yes I could. However, I would have to finish within 2, instead of 1 year that I had left. They would not acknowledge 1 year of credits that I earned back home.
>Pure bureaucracy<

 My bachelor studies in Prague are for 4 years already and if I went to Scotland it would mean that it would be 5 years in the end. My brain analysed that as additional time = additional costs for my parents who kindly support me throughout my studies.

I actually went to counselling because of that and...once I was leaving the room, I had to go to a toilet. Out of 6 empty cabins I chose one with this paper stuck inside.

I had to laugh when I saw it. If that was not an answer to my doubting mind, what was then?

And yet, I was trapped in the process of making decisions for about 3 painful months and in the end I made a wrong one.

When the crucial deadline of really having to make a decision approached, I did the exact opposite that the random person advised.

I flushed my hopes and dreams down the toilet!

I listened to my brain. 

I thought that 2 more years of studies would be too much. 

I already went for an extra year abroad during my high-school... and so I thought that I am not the youngest and that it would not be fair to my parents if they had to support me for one more extra year.

I thought that I should not burden anymore.

I thought that loosing the opportunity of earning a double diploma, since I already studied 3 years for it, would be too high price.

No matter how cliché this is going to sound..I made a decision, based on what my brain told me to do and I did not listen to my heart. I made a decision thinking would be "good for me", not "what I really want". And my heart is so angry at my brain, like it never was.

I regret.

I regret leaving Scotland.

I regret, leaving my friends in Scotland.

I regret, having to study at Uni, that is so hard, that I feel suffocated and not having any free time. I feel like it sucks out my energy and the remaining bits of good mood from me.
I regret not being a part of the community of the Green and Blue Space (http://www.julieisinscotland.blogspot.cz/2014/10/green-and-blue-space-my-story.html) anymore.

I regret, that I am in a position of a child again, when I was an adult already.

I can´t stand living in Prague.

I can´t stand the city and the contiguous chaos and the stress that it spreads.

I can´t stand how horrible, ignorant and antagonistic people are to each other here.

I can´t stand that instead of cycling through a beautiful countryside to Uni and observing bunnies and deers, I have to take a tram and be there stuck with angry and smelly people for 45 minutes twice a day.

I can´t stand how badly my Uni treats students. Since when does the negative motivation work?!?!?

I can´t stand myself for choosing the wrong choice.

My friend Rachel wrote that a study-abroad experience truly is just a snap-shot in one´s life. And she is right, people move to places and once a chapter of their life is finished, they move on.

But I can´t.

I can´t move on, because I know how happy I was and how unhappy I am and that it is me who caused this. 

Somehow...I can´t close the chapter. 

I can´t close off the happy memories and yet at the same time it is so painful to recall them, because I know that I could have continued in them...and I chose not to.

Does the time heal?

I tend to forget slightly how much I hate myself and how much I hate it here...but once I travel and come back, it hits me. 

Now I know...

I know that I would not have double diploma (an American and European one), but it would not matter to me. 

I would have to work to support myself.

I could have been cycling to Uni everyday seeing the bunnies and deers, 

I could have engaged in extra-curricular activities that actually made sense (again http://www.julieisinscotland.blogspot.cz/2014/10/green-and-blue-space-my-story.html).

I could have been among really good friends who did this video for me:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ypFCD7LW9xY
and I gave that up.
I know that it confuses my parents when they randomly come to my room and find me crying, but I cannot help it.

 I could have been bloody happy!

...and I chose not to.

4 horrible moments in Scotland

All my posts here have been rather positive so far...and no wonder, I love Scotland, I loved my stay and my experience was almost perfect. Almost...

You know what...a study abroad is such a good thing and I would definitely recommend it to everyone. Studying in Scotland especially is great and studying in Stirling in particular.

But it would not be true, if I said that my stay in Stirling was rosy at all times. Of course everyone might have different experience, but here is a list of the times, when I did not enjoy myself.

1. When a family member that I never thought of not seeing again passed away. It hits you hard, when you are abroad, separated from your family and all you can do is to cry while calling them via Skype. 

Loosing someone is hard, loosing someone when you are miles away even harder.

Nevertheless, I had a lot of support inside Scotland too. Laurelin that took me for a day trip-hike, Hazel that I was always able to talk to, my flatmates that were really nice and considerate to me...and Courtney and Rachel that did not let me be alone.

So I guess the lesson learnt is...you just never know when are going to see a person for the last time, don´t take anything for granted and if you think that a person should know how you feel about him or her...just say it!

2. People would always tell me "careful, Stirling can be a dangerous place". Honestly said...if you think that Stirling can be dangerous, you should go to Prague. 

There is no place on Earth where I would feel that safe...except those 3 next instances.

When a dead body of random person was found during the second week of my stay in Stirling on a spot that I was able to see from my room. 

Actually, for first 2 days we did not know what was going on there, 24/7 there were police cars and policemen guiding that place and forensic people coming in and out. 

The discussions in the Union street (where my flat was) gone wild, some suggested that people might be cookign drugs or something. Few days later, the Stirling Observer released an article saying that a dead body was found and everyone went silent in a shock.

My flatmate Lisa joked about and said: "Julie, this is going to teach you not going anywhere alone in the dark" :)
(I never bought a bus pass, because I thought it would be a shame to ride a bus in such a beautiful country if I can simply walk).
But my friend Theo said: "you know, there is not really much to be afriad not, that place is probably the safest in Stirling right now".

Later on, we found out that that poor bloke had a sudden heart attack. But I never really told my parents, there were worried enough with me being away and this would be a bit too much.

3. When there was a report that a girl, a University of Stirling student, was raped in one of the underpasses in Stirling. 

Now...those underpasses? Not nice places let alone. How many times was I going through them? 2-4 a day. The thought of a girl being raped there...terrible. That really made me rather scared at that time.

Later on, the girl confessed that it was a false report, she was angry at her boyfriend and did not think of anything better, but reporting this.

3. When I had a bike accident. 

To be fair, I have to say, that I was not much of a skilled bike-rider on the left side of the road. My bike was too small for me and the breaks were not really breaking well, or maybe almost not at all.

And so we are back to the lovely underpasses. 

On late morning, I was cycling slightly faster than I would usually be to Uni, because I was about to have a meeting about my possible future studies there. Not that I was late, but the fact that the meeting was important for me and I hate even the though of being late made me cycle a little faster that usual.

To clarify there are two underpasses.
When I was about to go through the first one, I remember slowing down considerately because there was a woman and a little toddler. The second one however is more dangerous one, it is sort of in a curve and you cannot see the person on the other side till the very last moment.
And all of a sudden there was another cyclist infront of me.
In a split second, that seemed long as a lifetime, I hit the breaks, but reliased they do not work well so I decided to slide the bike to one side to avoid the crash. My brain, used to riding and cycling on the right side, sent a signal to my hands to slide to the right side as oppose to the left one as I should have. That resulted in an immediate collision with the other cyclist. Though if I slid to the left...I would have hit the wall.

The guy was similarly shocked as I was, but started blaming the crash on me, saying how fast I was and that simply was not true. I was in too much of a shock to say something. He was concerned about his bike and once he repaired it, he left.
I looked at my left hand though and the first thought that went through my head was "Oh no, my watch is broken". Then I noticed that the skin on my knuckles on my hand is torn and unattached on many places. I marveled at it for a while, but somehow unable to realise that I was hurt. I looked down and found out my stockings are torn too. 

But I remembered that I had an important meeting and I continued riding to Uni, I didn´t want to be late, remember. 

Soon though I felt my hand getting wet on the handlebar. I realised that there is blood splashing from it and also the blood from the wound on my knee made my stockings and the shoe went and dirty too.

 At this point, it could be added that I hate the sight of blood, yes even my own, and I tend to feel dizzy at first and faint few moments later.

This time...I knew that I just had to made it to Uni, so I kept on cycling for another 3 miles, went to Uni, scared above mentioned Theo on the way, entered the Green and Blue space office, said: "girls, I had a bike accident" and started crying like a baby :). I did not hurt much, I was just in a shock from the accident, that that person did not help me and from seeing the blood.

Laurelin (above mentioned angel) assesed the wound, said that the knee needs stitches and the finger an X-ray and Italian daredevil Giulia (who is now an owner of the bike :) ) accompanied me to the hospital and calmed me down. The knee did need stitched, but the finger was just badly swolen and bruised.

All and all I can conclude that although, there were few hiccups during the stay, I had people that were ready to help me out and that I could rely on - what more can I wish for?

Thank you my friends!