We spent a week on Loch Fyne in the very early Springtime. It is a cold, grey and damp place where sunshine takes on the qualities of divinity. Moody as all get out. It is sometimes difficult to tell whether or not it is raining. There are many ancient, abandoned churches returning to nature in a state approaching that of rubble. Lots to explore.
The people were much better looking and more welcoming than I was lead to expect. Downright charming, really. Everything was more expensive, too.
Everyone drives a green Ford Fiesta with a stick. The roads fold back on themselves like the Golgi Complex in a cell the size of a sovereign nation. Figure out how long it should take you to get somewhere and then multiply it by four. You will still arrive late.
Sheep wander all over the place and the locals consider it an event worth noting when the swallows come feeding low on the loch at dusk; which lasts about four hours.
Some people are born to patience. Some people are called to patience and some have patience thrust upon them.
I would go back to Scotland and live there forever, if only I could.
All that green and fog and overcast - think it's beautiful. It reminds me of our trip to Olympic NP a couple years ago. I was in awe of all those shades of green. Very soothing.
I lived in Scotland from June to September 1998. It never got above 65 degrees, rained then shined then rained again almost every day. There are vast open areas with sheep and the occasional hiker. The towns are pretty and clean and the men are drunk quite often. People were friendly, even when sober, and mannerly, except when drunk. I loved everything about it--the damp, the four hour sunsets, the cool clean air. We too got over ambitious in our hiking goals from time to time. The Scots were tolerant of our foolishness. Lovely people, especially when sober.
I was in Scotland a few days in August 85. It was about 40 deg and windy on Edinburgh castle. The Highlands were beautiful when patches of sunlight turned them gold, with green and pink mixed in. The water was peety brown, weird to bathe in. Didn't see many sheep up close, except one shorn one that blocked the road.
Unfortunately, the only time I've been able to visit Scotland was in November. With only 6 or 7 hours of daylight, sightseeing was limited.
We did take a trip into the highlands and ate at Loch Fyne Oysters Limited. Great food and atmosphere, but the funniest thing were the miniature Tabasco bottles with the restaurant's label.
Visiting ancestral graves behind the Arrochar church was also fascinating. More McFarlands there than you can shake a stick at.
The church is now basically a souvenir shop for silly American tourists, but the cemetery was fascinating.
Even in November, it was green. I will go back during the summer. Someday.
Scotland the beautiful indeed. The people there seem to know my thought as I felt that I knew theirs from the expressions on their faces. There must be something to this common descent from a long linage of the same genetic family.
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We spent a week on Loch Fyne in the very early Springtime. It is a cold, grey and damp place where sunshine takes on the qualities of divinity. Moody as all get out. It is sometimes difficult to tell whether or not it is raining. There are many ancient, abandoned churches returning to nature in a state approaching that of rubble. Lots to explore.
The people were much better looking and more welcoming than I was lead to expect. Downright charming, really. Everything was more expensive, too.
Everyone drives a green Ford Fiesta with a stick. The roads fold back on themselves like the Golgi Complex in a cell the size of a sovereign nation. Figure out how long it should take you to get somewhere and then multiply it by four. You will still arrive late.
Sheep wander all over the place and the locals consider it an event worth noting when the swallows come feeding low on the loch at dusk; which lasts about four hours.
Some people are born to patience. Some people are called to patience and some have patience thrust upon them.
I would go back to Scotland and live there forever, if only I could.
All that green and fog and overcast - think it's beautiful. It reminds me of our trip to Olympic NP a couple years ago. I was in awe of all those shades of green. Very soothing.
Great blog post, Nina.
I lived in Scotland from June to September 1998. It never got above 65 degrees, rained then shined then rained again almost every day. There are vast open areas with sheep and the occasional hiker. The towns are pretty and clean and the men are drunk quite often. People were friendly, even when sober, and mannerly, except when drunk. I loved everything about it--the damp, the four hour sunsets, the cool clean air. We too got over ambitious in our hiking goals from time to time. The Scots were tolerant of our foolishness. Lovely people, especially when sober.
I was in Scotland a few days in August 85. It was about 40 deg and windy on Edinburgh castle. The Highlands were beautiful when patches of sunlight turned them gold, with green and pink mixed in. The water was peety brown, weird to bathe in.
Didn't see many sheep up close, except one shorn one that blocked the road.
I'm envious of Nina!
Unfortunately, the only time I've been able to visit Scotland was in November. With only 6 or 7 hours of daylight, sightseeing was limited.
We did take a trip into the highlands and ate at Loch Fyne Oysters Limited. Great food and atmosphere, but the funniest thing were the miniature Tabasco bottles with the restaurant's label.
Visiting ancestral graves behind the Arrochar church was also fascinating. More McFarlands there than you can shake a stick at.
The church is now basically a souvenir shop for silly American tourists, but the cemetery was fascinating.
Even in November, it was green. I will go back during the summer. Someday.
I don't know the great glen way, but I like a nice glenmorangie.
Scotland the beautiful indeed. The people there seem to know my thought as I felt that I knew theirs from the expressions on their faces. There must be something to this common descent from a long linage of the same genetic family.
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