From Tuesday to Friday of this past week, I travelled with my dear friend Alex to Edinburgh, Scotland!
I knew I wanted to take the train rather than fly to Edinburgh (even though flying is surprisingly a lot less expensive!), because I thought it would be a wonderful opportunity to see the English countryside on our way to Scotland. London is very far south on the island, so taking the train allowed us to pass through most of the country! I found this time to be quiet and reflective, though for most of it I was quite stressed about a paper I had due, so I think I could have done a little better to take advantage of the peacefulness of it all.
On the way to Edinburgh, I noticed many houses tucked away into cliff sides by the sea, and long stretches of grass with sheep dotted across the land. It amazes me how sparsely populated huge swaths of the country are when the island is so small! This also prompted me to think about one of the journaling questions we had for the past two weeks, which related to water and energy. Many homes in England were built at least a century or two ago, especially those further away from major cities. They are poorly insulated and lack ventilation, and summers are particularly brutal here as a result. A large portion of homes within cities also suffer from a lack of sufficient shading, due to a lack of trees and the orientation of many buildings toward the sun. As summers progressively warm, the UK is ill-equipped to manage the level to which their people’s homes are actively harming their ability to cope with the heat.
I found a page from the National Grid that describes the live electric transmission in the UK. At this moment, 47.7% of energy generated in the United Kingdom is renewable, with 25% coming from wind energy. The UK has pages recommending ways to ‘beat the heat’, and has introduced guidance that sets building regulations on new developments so as to limit the potential for overheating. The problem remains, though, that countless homes in the UK, especially historic homes, will need assistance in retrofitting their homes with improved insulation and ventilation systems.
In addition, major cities – particularly London – rely immensely on their underground public transportation systems. The Tube in London is quite warm even in the wintertime, because the lines run deep underground, with thick layers of concrete insulating the tunnels from the fresh air above. I worry about the summers to come, as the world only continues to warm. Even brief journeys through the city could become completely intolerable without preemptive renovations from the city.
I loved Edinburgh a lot more than I expected to. I knew I was looking forward to experiencing the old gothic architecture and the museums, but I didn’t know how much I would adore the atmosphere of the city. The city felt easygoing and calm compared to London, but with plenty still to do and see. People walking down the streets seemed relaxed and good-natured, compared to the busy financial energy of central London, which appears to demand a certain level of coldness from passersby.
And, most importantly, Edinburgh is flush with nature. It took only a twenty minute journey from the city centre for us to reach Holyrood Park, a wilded green expanse sprawled out behind Holyrood Palace, the official royal residence in Scotland. We saw a variety of bird species that I didn’t recognize, as well as lush yellow flowers growing on the side of Arthur’s Seat, which I later identified as gorse. They reminded me of forsythia near Wellesley and my home in Providence, whose bloom to me has always signalled the beginning of spring.
Climbing Arthur’s Seat was a unique challenge, and a reminder of my love for hiking, which I haven’t leaned into in some time. Being pushed to think about where to place my feet and hands forced me to be mindful of my body in the space. Through this, I was encouraged to move slowly and enjoy the experience all the more. I found that by the time I reached the top – though of course the view was sublime! – I relished the time and energy spent on the hike up all the more. The quiet huff of my breaths alongside my friend’s with the soft breeze was all the noise we really heard, and that peacefulness truly struck me. When we reached the summit, where most of the other tourists had gathered, I was shaken from the sense of mindful connection we had built on the way up.
I want to make more time for this kind of experience while I’m still in London. It’s difficult for me, when I’m swept up in the rhythm of school and friendships, to remind myself that ultimately I chose to come to London for myself. I want to be mindful of the ways I’m spending my brief time here, and think of how I can build strong memories of the landscape. I’m hoping that by engaging with the London Natural History Society through my community engagement project later this term, and by taking more excursions out of the city, I’ll be able to bring myself back to the slow solace of moments like the one I experienced at Arthur’s Seat.
