Cumbernauld, Scotland

It had been almost 10 years since my last visit to Scotland which I am ashamed to say but new European cities and warm locals in the south always called my name, “pssst! Tracy don’t go to Scotland it’s rainy. Come on, come to Mexico we will give you tequila and sun”

However even though most of the motive behind my U.K. adventure was to see a certain English boy I knew I had to go to Scotland from mid-summer. My Grandmother fell ill and I knew I really wanted to go to her homeland and then when she passed away in September it became even more important to me. She was without a doubt my favourite person in the world. She personified the word Grandma with her warm baking and hugs. She was stern and kept me in line as a child threating to give me a licking but as I got older we shared a lot of the same interests and I would love hearing her stories from the past. Grandmothers are important; they are like a second mother that you always get along with. They are always cool no matter how ridiculous they are. Whereas a mother when you are a teenager is just uncool no matter what she does. I still feel a hole in my heart and something important missing in my life without her. I see old people on the street, in malls and coffee shops yearning for the love of one of them. I know this sounds odd and honestly I do not stalk seniors but if you have felt the love of a Grandma and lost that you will know what I mean.

I was going to Scotland to see my family, to stay with my mom’s cousin who she calls sister and my great Aunt who was closest to my Grandma. My Grandma lived in Kenoway, Fife before the war broke out but the family I was going to see now lives in another town in between Glasgow and Edinburgh called Cumbernauld or how my one cousin calls it, Scumbernald. I am going to assume pretty much all of the U.K. uses the same reference hearing the responses after having told several people where I was staying in Scotland.

It really isn’t that bad but there isn’t much too it. Cumbernauld is quiet and family friendly, mostly residential with a very industrial building which they call the town centre that houses a few shops and where you can hop on a bus to Glasgow or surrounding neighborhoods and villages. On one side of the motorway from the town centre is Asada (one UK supermarket) on the other side is Tesco (another UK supermarket). There is an elementary school, high school, nursery, police but I don’t think too much else, or else my family has been hiding the rest from me but if the town centre is any indication of what the rest looks like then fair enough. Other than the industrial looking bits the town is quite pretty with lots of green. It is in a nice location close-ish to both Glasgow; amazing for shopping and night life and Edinburgh; amazing for culture, arts and pubs.

I was back with my Scottish surrogate family and it felt nice. I could laze around all day watching tele, go to the city to do some shopping and come home to nice home cooking at the dinner table and have tea and a chat with my Scottish mom (Mum). On one such day of sleeping in I was disturbed by someone at the door. They had found me in yet another country; Jehovah’s!! I had my pyjamas on, my hair was dishevelled and I was wearing my glasses. After listening to their rant about what was going to happen when Armageddon came, I politely told me I didn’t actually live there I am just visiting. The two older women exclaimed, “Oh you have an accent! Where are you from?” I told them Canada. “Yes, yes you do look Canadian! Yes, yes she looks like Kate Middleton! Welcome enjoy your visit.” I was happy to get rid of them but confused, Kate Middleton isn’t Canadian.

Now I didn’t spend my entire time in Scotland watching Top Gear and listening to BBC Radio 2 and that wasn’t my only somewhat funny antidote. I did have a packed social schedule with cousins to attend to and backup boy. Don’t get bored and sleepy just yet with me. The fun is yet to come.