the last time I flew out of Scotland, I thought that I’d be back soon. it took me five years, but this time I know I’ll be back soon. I can’t imagine a better place, better people and my heart tugs a little string every time I think of this country.
this trip took me to places both familiar and unfamiliar. I have fond memories of Ashton Lane, Kelvingrove Park, and Kelvingrove Museum, all of which I spent time at. but I also visited some new spots: I tackled 22 miles of the lower Cairngorms, from Blairgowrie to Glenshee, I cycled 40 miles through the west mainland of Orkney, and I revered the Celt spirits at Brodgar and Stenness. I sought Neolithic architectural wisdom at Skara Brae and I looked for Nessie in the depths of Loch Ness.
I saw old friends and met new ones. I laughed for hours alongside someone I hadn’t seen for nine years, but whose company never felt forced or awkward.
I had a crazy hostelmate who believes in reincarnation and multiple lives. while her views may be less than orthodox in many areas, I do think that in a previous life, I was Scottish. because it tears my heart in two to leave tomorrow. because when I think about Scotland, I get that silly feeling that people get when they think of someone/thing they love. you might call it butterflies.
I will cry tomorrow as I leave. they’ll be both tears of joy for being able to come, and tears of sadness for having to leave.