Supposedly, a diary is something you write either on a daily base or at least somehow time-sensitive. I just decided to blog something from my journey to Scotland, which I started a few days ago (being the 19th) and which will end this Friday.
I am simply impressed by this part of the British isles. Not really and entirely because of all the clichés one would associate with Scotland, but rather due to some really strange thoughts that occured during part of my daily trips to various places all over here.
Let's start with last Tuesday. Apart from the usuall sightseeing, ruin-tripping and distillery-hopping that I already did last year and all the days before during this trip, I came across beautiful coastline somewhere in the very northern part of Scotland which is called Caithness. Originally I wanted to make a daytrip to the Orkneys, however, the car ferry turned out to be full and too expensive anyway. So I just drove around and stopped by some of those rare sandy beaches you sometimes find here. I spent some time sitting on a dune, watching a crystal blue sea in the full sunlight (yes, you heard me). Of course, fully sun-blocked, long-sleeved and the hoody of my sweater on. I remembered my last "real" summer vacation which by now was 17 years ago. And which will most likely have been my last one. I noticed how the sun still prickled nastily on my 50+ protected skin after I dared some crazy and blunt exposure in the "just because I can" style. On the way back to my B&B home in Beauly (close to Inverness), I kept myself from crying. Successfully.
Sunday, I changed locations, away from Beauly, on to Isle of Skye where I will spend the rest of my vacation except the very last day, which is entirely devoted to Edinburgh. Since I am here, I feel much better. In a weird way. My new hosts are a gentle Gaelic couple with a nerdish son named Paddy (ain't that supposed to be an Irish name?!) and some 10 sheep, 2 geese, uncounted chicken, some horse I haven't seen yet, a dog and 3 cats. Right now, I am sitting in the living room, the family already being fast asleep, watching 3 sleeping kittehs while I type. Two are black and one is a lucky-red-black-white-spotted beauty.
The weather here made me curious. Gentle, wet and somewhat warm-ish air which is entirely hard to describe. While the weather forecast says 13 to 15 centigrades, it feels entirely warm and cozy here. Even when it rains. Okay, the good rain veriety, coming straight from above and raining straight down. Any other variety coming from various weird directions is pretty yuck. But this just feels as right as it could. I googled the Hebrides and found out that average winter temperature is 2 to 5 centigrades, and summer is 12 to 15. Outer Hebrides, though, but Skye doesn't seem to differ too far from this. The air seems to have this high humidity all throughout the year. They call Skye "The Misty Island", which is dead true. You simply don't know where the fog ends and the clouds start. The rare blue spots in the sky don't hurt me that much. The green of the heather meadows vibrates whenever only the dimmest light hits the ground, no matter of clouds or shine.
For the first time in my life I have found a spot in the world I could really grow to love. Barely any sun. Perfect temperature. Perfect air for me to breathe. Lots of cats and sheep (okay, the latter keep running away but still...) And barely a place where one house / croft / cottage is any closer than 300 meters to each other.
Addendum for today: Looks like I stumbled into this period's McLeods clan parliament. This village is just bursting full of people. McLeods from all over the world have come here. I don't see much of it since our house is far enough from the main village, however, whenever I drive through, it's kinda funny. Want some Scottish cliché? Kilted guys all over this place, bagpipe music in the community hall, you name it, we have it. Sheesh, call this a weird timing. Until this week I didn't even know Skye is McLeod's.
I guess I will go to sleep soon. My throat hurts a little bit, got into two storms at the coast and I guess this was a little much for my current health. At least, the female half of my hosts was happy to cater me with some tea and honey. After all, they already noticed what a late bird I am, how little I eat and how drowsy I am during the earlier part of the day (did I mention that I slept until 4 p.m. yesterday?)
