Home again, but not

June 13, 2010
Being a first generation citizen of the United States definitely has its advantages. We hear and we are taught from the earliest of our days, that the U.S. is the greatest country on earth, and we are the greatest people. But as a first generation person, there is the other side of life, this constant feeling of being at home, but not quite. In a book I read for class a young Mexican American, born in the U.S., expressed it as being between two worlds. And that is exactly how I feel, between two worlds. Maybe that is why travel comes so easily to me. I spent almost 24 hours in travel, two planes, one bus, a train and a taxi, to be home again, but not quite. I understand the language, it may be English, but the inflections are very different from U.S. English. I found myself interpreting Scots English for the U.S. folks on the bus.
I missed the 820 a.m. train north, but I had expected as much. So I waited at the train station for 3 hours. How global the world has become. In the Glasgow Queen Street station, there is a WH Smith shop (general items), two coffee shops (and one is a Starbucks), a pub, a fish and chip shop and a tea shop. So I wiled away the hours by drinking tea and coffee (not at Starbucks), watching and meeting people. Most were there for only a few moments, but some were hanging out watching folk. You did have to be careful with your intake; one, the tea is blacker than most coffees, and two it cost 30p (about 75 cents) to go to the bathroom.
From Glasgow to Oban by train was a little over 3 hours, and the scenery was fabulous. There were places that it almost seemed we were in a tropical rain forest, and the path of the train was lined by ferns growing everywhere. I had the most interesting group of traveling companions. There was a family returning from holiday, they live on the Isle of Mull. There was a group of women, probably my age that had gone to Glasgow for a couple of days to do some shopping. There were many hikers and cyclists; apparently Oban is a backpacking starting point. There was a business man whose company was sending him to Oban for a few days. There was a wee man whose job it is to give away advertising papers, so he spent the journey stuffing all his papers. I saw him later handing them out on the street.
Oban is a little seaside town, quite nice. Did a wee bit of walking a bout. Enjoyed all my Scottish comfort foods; Iron Bru (think big red soda), a poke of chips, and a 99 (soft serve ice cream with a Cadbury’s flake). I did not have a fish supper, but had elegant smoked salmon on crusty French bread. Not sure which was richer, the butter on the bread or the salmon.