We’ve been to Edinburgh before but never ventured past the city limits.
Since I don’t drive in jolly ye olde world it had to happen sometime. Yes, the worst has come to pass…. we booked a coach tour!
Our launch was inauspicious as my son immediately succumbed to motion sickness, but our fellow passengers thankfully all pretended not to notice.
From that point on the experience was actually quite good fun. I like to be driven about, and our guide was not just an employee but an enthusiast. He knew far more than any of us wanted to hear about Scottish history – awesome!
The Firth of Forth, Kirkaldy, Dunkeld, forests of Douglas Fir (just like home). Mountains, valleys, monuments to the Battle of Culloden and the massacre at Glen Coe.
I’m not even a smidgen Scottish by blood but I was completely devastated by the landscape and history.
Those who know me in real life can attest that I am cold and heartless about all sorts of things that other people think problematic – like, oh, broken marriages, or cancer. But give me a persecuted social movement and I will pontificate endlessly. And, often, weep.
Right now the most significant choice I face is the question of whether to remain in the United Kingdom, and Scotland offers up reminders of the lessons of history. Are they pertinent to my current quandary? Probably not. But it is more interesting to think about the Highland Clearances than my superfluous problems.
My children are not especially impressed by these habits, but the boy at least occasionally agrees to accompany me on the excursions. He has wanted to see Loch Ness his whole life: mission accomplished.
It was a two day excursion and we made camp at a hotel in Fort Williams, with carpeting in the bathroom and a view of the bay.
Eating curry in a peculiar Indian restaurant while gazing at the ruins of a Redcoat fortress, I picked up my phone to check for new messages.
I wasn’t expecting anything at all …. but a seriously difficult secret plan, requiring significant material and emotional sacrifice, has resolved.
I can’t tell you what happened, and my son was not impressed. But my life, whatever is left of it, has officially been improved in an exponential manner.
That night I slept deeply for the first time in months, then woke to eat a full cooked breakfast in a provincial hotel – always hilariously disgusting, though at least in Scotland they leave off the baked beans.
We met our fellow travelers to continue the journey, including a Jacobite Steam Train speeding past Neptune’s Staircase.
I am so happy.
