England and Scotland -- July 10

July 10
8:42 AM GMT

Checked out of the Glasgow hotel this morning and are on the road to London. The rain that was harassing the south moved north today, so we’re leaving at just the right time.

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We went back to Edinburgh yesterday and spent the day there. We went first to a visitor attraction place on the Royal Mile, the street that leads to the castle, called the Scotch Whiskey Heritage Center. It started out good, with a whiskey tasting and an informative video about how Scotch whiskey is made (similar to beer, but distilled and aged in oaken barrels) and the difference between malt, grain and blended Scotch whiskeys.

But then it turned kind of hokey. We sat through a hologram show where the “resident ghost” of their Master Blender appeared and explained about blending whiskey, then they had something called a “barrel ride,” where we all sat in hollowed-out whiskey barrels that moved along through different scenes of whiskey history. Very Disney-like. I guess they’re trying to make it fun for kids, also. But why would anyone bring their kids to a place about whiskey? Oh, well. At least we got a taste of whiskey and a free dram glass out of it.

We also went shopping on the Royal Mile for more presents; visited the National Museum of Scotland (they were supposed to have a new exhibit in the Contemporary Scotland section with Dolly the Sheep and a Scotland Sports Hall of Fame, but it wasn’t open yet); and of course visited several bars.

Our favorite was a place called The Bow Bar on West Bow Street in the old part of Edinburgh that seems to be a popular after-work spot for the locals. It had a full range of real ales like Belhaven 80 and Caledonian Deuchars IPA. We also tried something called A Piddle in the Sun just for the name. (The names of the various brands of alcohol here are great. An ale called Speckled Hen was one of Gary’s favorites. There was also a brand of whiskey called Sheep Dung.)

Gary noticed they had Guinness and Bass on tap, so he had me ask them for a Black-and-Tan. But they told me they couldn’t combine them properly (I’m assuming they didn’t have a spoon to make the Guinness layer on top of the Bass). Then we got to talking about Black-and-Tans and I ended up explaining to Gary why our friend Ann (who is very Irish) won’t drink them – because they’re named after the paramilitary reserve group of the Royal Irish Constabulary which committed atrocities against Irish civilians. Gary didn’t know that before; he always assumed Ann didn’t drink Black-and-Tans simply because she didn’t like the taste.

Later on, back in Glasgow, we went to a sports bar trying to find coverage of the Tour de France (a Brit won the fifth stage today), but they didn’t have it. We went to another place called The Goose Bar and were hoping for some food, but by this time it was 9:30 and the kitchen was closed. We were afraid it was going to be the same anywhere we went, so we actually decided to just grab something from the KFCs and McDonalds that are all over the place here. We definitely didn’t come to Great Britain so we could eat junk food that we can get at home any day of the week, but we decided it might be a good experiment to see how American fast food tastes over here. (I can tell you now it tastes exactly the same. They just have different names for everything.)


Gary got a 2-piece chicken meal from KFC and I got a fish filet sandwich from McDonald’s. (It’s the only thing I can eat from McDonald’s that doesn’t make me sick.) It took forever for them to make it -- I guess because Brits don’t go to McDonald’s for the fish sandwiches; they go for the American hamburgers. So when a dumb foreigner like me orders a fish filet, they have to get it out of deep storage.

While Gary was waiting for me at the McDonalds, he witnessed a pretty blatant act of racism. He told me later two black kids came in there with their girlfriends, and as soon as they got their food, an older woman employee kicked them out, telling them they couldn’t sit down and they couldn’t stay there. When we got outside, we noticed a group of other black kids hanging around in front acting up and making a lot of noise. Maybe that woman kicked those kids out because she thought they were going to do more of the same. Still, they hadn’t actually done anything. Gary said he felt like saying something to her about it, but didn’t want to make a scene.

Gary said he’s also noticed other instances of racism and sexism on British TV. He said one of the news shows was interviewing the guy who did the song “Electric Avenue,” and when they were done, the commentator said something like, “There you are, ladies and gentlemen. Wasn’t that a very nice black man?” I’ve also noticed that they treat women very much like sex objects here. One of the British tabloids even used to feature pictures of topless women on page 3. I’m not saying we don’t have racism and sexism in our own country – we do – but we generally try to cover it over with a veneer of Political Correctness. At least we have some sense that it’s wrong and are supposed to try to correct it, even if we don’t always succeed.

Speaking of British TV -- when we got back to the hotel room with our fast food, we were eating and flipping through TV channels trying to find coverage of the Tour de France when we suddenly came upon a show that had a buck-naked woman giving birth to a baby! I mean, we caught it at the exact moment that the baby came squirting out! I know childbirth is beautiful and natural and all that, but I’d like to be prepared for it before I watch it. And I certainly don’t want to watch it while I’m trying to eat food (especially junk food).

Overall, British TV is more “in-your-face” than American. On the late night talk shows, they have no hesitation saying any of George Carlin’s “7 Words You Can’t Say on Television.” We say them on American talk shows, too, but we always bleep them out.

Oh, well. I came here to experience what the United Kingdom is really like, and I guess that’s part of it. I wonder what London will be like . . .