I’ve barely been here a week and already so much has happened. Good lord, this is not a boring adventure. (I never took a shower until the 5th day.)

After spending about

…Ok, the fire alarm just went off…some Spaniards just burnt their meal.

Not a boring adventure at all.

After spending over 16 of my first 24 hours on this trip traveling, I found myself in Edinburgh. Screw England. I wanted to see Scotland! I want hills! And lively music! And meet women who can drink me under the table! (Yes, they do have Smirnoff Ice here, but I’ve restrained myself from buying any.) But only after taking a leak in the “Lou of the Year”.

This is the time of year when Hen Parties (Bachelorette Parties) emerge. The happiest, Pissed, Mad Women you’ll ever meet. I made friends with a few and they loved hearing the stories about Texas and having an uncle with an alligator farm. Apparently, arse slapping is just as common here as it is in America.

I then jumped on a tour bus, guided by Duncan, through the Highlands of Scotland, the 23 mile long Loch Ness, sheep, sheep, sheep, and enough whiskey to make you go blind. The bus returned and I knew that I had to go back.

Who knows how many pints later, I jumped to Inverness. A beautiful city with a lot of character, a small castle in the middle of the town and Scotland’s largest music pub (3 stories with different music in each story). A Hen Party later, I made a few more friends and even met another guy from Dallas, Texas. Back at the Hostel, I hung out with a few Spaniards that almost had me fall off the top bunk bed laughing. (Ask me the difference between Regular Porn, and Asian Porn.)

One of the best lessons I learned from Rick Steves was that if you want to enjoy Europe the most, chat up with the locals. I constantly asked them for their recommendations and everyone kept pointing back to the Isle of Skye. The next day, I did one of the craziest things so far.

Long story short, the best place to see a sunset nearby was back at Eilean Donan Castle, about 8 Miles back. The bus driver told me that it would be too long to wait for the next bus, and that I should hitch it.

…

“Hitchhike?”
“Yea.”
“Is it safe?”
“Sure. I hitched 500 miles one time.”
“… Um. … Ok.”

So, I started walking and threw my thumb out. (Sans towel) About a mile later, I got picked up! It must have been pretty creepy for them as I was absolutely beaming because this was such a new experience for me. But they were fine with it. The driver used to hitch all the time when he was young. I got dropped off right at the castle, next to another hitcher who I swapped out with.

I got my pictures, learned some history, even chatted with a set of English kids to seemed quite taken by a Texan that would talk to them. I got back to the hostel and chatted with some friendly Germans who were driving around the Isle of Skye and next thing I know I’ve got plans for a day-trip with them tomorrow.

The Isle of Skye is the epitome of what I imagined Scotland to be. Sheep, Beautiful mountains, jagged cliffs and tiny roads. Most of the roads are only fit one car. So, they have humps so that one car can pull off to the side. Crazy.

Tomorrow morning, I take a bus to Glasgow to see some more beautiful cemeteries and the end of my Scottish trip. Next to Switzerland, this is my favorite. So many wonderful, friendly and inviting people. It’s almost like my Grandmother raised everyone of them to be so great. I haven’t tried on a kilt yet, nor have I tried haggis. I’m adventurous, but not with my meats.