Last semester I bought tickets for the Harry Potter Bridge Trip the university was running as soon as they were released. I was so excited to visit the bridge where parts of the Harry Potter movies were filmed at, but luck was not in my favor then, or now. I fell extremely sick with the flu and had to miss it. This semester I made it a point to buy tickets again for the trip, crossing my fingers that I would not get a cold or anything else to keep me from going. And nothing did keep me from going but something did keep me from enjoying the bridge. Two dreadful words: food poisoning.
The trip was going great so far. Our first stop was at Luss Village where we got great views of Loch Lomond. I’ve stopped at Loch Lomond before on other day trips, but I have never seen it from the view Luss provides. Loch Lomond is actually the biggest inland body of water is all of Great Britain which is very cool.
The tour guide for this trip, which was run by IESS instead of Citylife, provided us with all kinds of facts and interactive fun while on the bus. Our stop at Luss was short and soon after we were back on the bus we headed for Glencoe to see the Three Sisters. On the way, our guide put on the “bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond” song to emphasize what we just saw. The song is very cute and very catchy, and it serenaded us to the snowcapped mountains of Glencoe. The snow highlighted every facet and crevice of the mountains and made it look straight out of a movie.
After taking pictures with the Three Sisters, which is three mountains grouped together, we boarded the bus again, this time with the musical snack of the “Glencoe Massacre” song, not as jolly but it put us all in the right mood to take a Harry Potter trivia quiz! My partner and I scored 19 out of 20 but numerous pairs with a perfect score beat us. Harry Potter fans really know their details.
Our next stop after the Three Sisters was a quick photo opportunity at Loch Tulla, which gave us more expansive views of the wintry highlands.
From there we moved onto Fort William, aka the scene of the crime, where my trip took a ghastly turn. With only an hour to eat lunch, my new friends and I quickly got a table at a restaurant called Tavern. I had my heart set on vegetable lasagna but our server, when she finally took our order, said they were unable to make it that day. On the spot I had to order a different meal. I am a very indecisive person. It takes me forever to choose what to order at a restaurant. Under the pressure of getting a meal in under an hour, I ordered the first dish my eyes rested on: nachos. I can’t even say that word out loud without a feeling of repulsion running through my whole body. I ate about half of the plate when I started feeling full, so I let someone else clean off the plate for me. We rushed back to the bus and I gladly took my seat since I, for some reason, felt so full. This fullness gradually turned into stomach pain as we arrived in Glenfinnan.
Our tour guide excitedly jumped out of the bus, taking charge of a walking tour around the area and I, with my stomach growing more painful by the second, slowly lumbered after her to our first attraction: Loch Shiel. Getting to the lake was made difficult by a huge patch of solid ice surrounding it that we smashed in order to get closer to the fictional Black Lake of the Harry Potter movies. It looked exactly like in the movie. Pictures were made difficult since the sun was glaring but we really had perfect weather for a trip through the highlands. After, our guide took us on a hike upward to get a better view of the bridge, the main attraction. By then my stomach was really killing me but I persevered through and hiked to the top of a hill for the amazing view of the viaduct. Our next route was back down and around the hill to get close enough to actually touch the viaduct! There was a route up the mountain that allowed visitors to actually get on top of the duct, but the path was extremely icy, people were falling, and I knew if I took one spill I would vomit everywhere so I stayed low and still got some great pictures. The viaduct that we saw is made up of 21 arches and was built by Sir Robert McAlpine for nearly twenty thousand pounds. It was finished in 1901 and is 100 feet high. It seemed so small in the distance but it towered over us when we were close enough to hug the bridge, which some people did.
The next route would have been to the local Church of St. Mary but by this point I started to feel really dreadful, so I skipped seeing the Church and headed for the café instead to drink chamomile tea to try and calm my stomach. It did not work, and I boarded the bus headed back to the city wishing I was in Edinburgh already. As we began to make our way back to Edinburgh, I began to get cold sweats and I felt like I was going to pass out. I have a history of passing out (one time I fainted in Giant) and I couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing than passing out in the middle of the bus isle. So, I stayed in my seat, closed my eyes and breathed, trying to make it pass. As I was fighting off a fainting spell the bus tour guided put out the song “500 Miles” forcing everyone to sing along as she ran up and down the isles screaming her head off, bumping into me every time. I couldn’t even move out of the way I was so close to fainting. It was like a scene straight out of a sad comedy, and I was the butt of the joke.
At this moment of the trip, I thought I had reached a low point, but I didn’t realize just how bad things could turn. Once my fainting spell past, I tried to relax and watch the movie the guide put on in the bus (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire). In actuality though I barely saw any of the film. My feeling of fainting was quickly replaced with nausea as I fought to not throw up all over the bus. I absolutely hate vomiting and do whatever I can to avoid it. I think I was around ten years old the last time I barfed, and I wanted to keep it that way, but things have a way of not going how you want them too. I started getting over heated and that coupled with intense nausea sent me running for the tiny, gross, freezing bus bathroom where I hurled my guts out for the first time in almost ten years. And it was not a simple one-off barf. Think of the puking scene in Pitch Perfect. That is the level of force the vomit was coming out of me, coming out of my nose, reeking of nachos. But once it was over I did feel better. My stomach relaxed, and I returned to my seat trying to act like nothing had happened. But soon after the nausea came back, and I sprinted for the bathroom once again, vomiting just as violently, this time spraying it all over the toilet seat. So sorry to everyone on board. I had reached a low point.
This was a bus ride from hell and I have never felt more relieved when we arrived at Edinburgh. I rushed back to my flat to change, wash up and fill my family in on all the gross pathetic details. Of course, with my luck, what did I find my flat mate eating when I went into the kitchen for water? She was eating Mexican food. The smell engulfed the kitchen and reminded me acutely of the smell of my barf. I locked myself in my room trying to fight off another wave of nausea but alas my efforts were in vain. I ran for the bathroom with a trashcan in hand seconds away from hurling. But the toilet seat was down, and the light was off. Once I got the light on (the light switch being on outside of the bathroom behind the door) and the seat up I commenced to hurling my guts out once again, spraying all over the toilet seat. I know this might be gross to read but I wanted to paint a picture of the horror I was in. I was so excited for this trip after missing it because of the flu. After completely emptying my stomach contents I thought it confirmed that the Harry Potter Bridge trip was cursed for me. I wish my pathetically funny tale could end here but there is more. The following day, after a restless night of feeling achy and nauseous and out of it, my diet consisted fully of handfuls of dry cheerios and Tylenol tablets. I spent all of Sunday trying to get as much fluids into me as any thought of food made me want to run to the bathroom again. I couldn’t even get peace with watching a movie because any film with the hint of vomiting or any scene with food in it made me uncomfortable. Thankfully though I went to bed that night and slept peacefully for hours . . . only to be woken up by none other than the fire alarm. My flat mate set the fire alarm off by cooking chicken for breakfast.
There wasn’t any fire but smoke from the kitchen set the alarm in the hallway off at 8am and the whole building had to evacuate. I was sleeping so soundly too! The firemen came and said my flat number in front of everyone, some people giving dirty looks as they stood out in the street in pajamas. We had to go up with the firemen to let them into the flat. If this had happened Sunday morning instead of Monday I don’t know if I could have gotten out of bed and walked down and up eight flights of stairs. My family laughed when I told them about this unexpected morning claiming my weekend could be a tv show, a sad comedy. Sure, it’s funny, now. But when I was face first in a tiny freezing bus bathroom puking up nachos, it was just sad. And now I will never eat nachos again.
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