off to the land of bagpipes and kilts

I’m off to Scotland for a much needed vacation (ecstatic doesn’t even begin to express how I feel). It’s meant to hail and piss rain and blow gusts of wind that could rip the knickers right off me but I don’t care, people. It’s Scot-land! It’s meant to be a moody motherfucker, which is part of what makes it so enchanting, if you ask me. It’s just a wee bit cold up there, so you have to drink whiskey to keep warm (it’s mandatory… otherwise YOU DIE!) and it’s just misty enough to make you believe in fairies and isn’t the seaside just a little more exhilarating when you feel a storm coming off its horizon? I’ve bought myself a kickass raincoat and my flatmate has leant me all manners of thermals and I have wool socks so thick I can hardly squeeze my feet into a pair of boots so me thinks I’m set for the bony shores and the green hills of Scotland. Whit’s fur ye’ll no go by ye!  (What’s meant to happen will happen.)

Things I desperately need and am thoroughly looking forward to this week:

campfires (coffee brewed on campfire, beans cooked on campfire, bread toasted on campfire, hands warmed by campfire)

silence

fresh air

hiking ben nevis — the highest peak in the UK (weather permitting)

cycling around islay (weather permitting)

swimming in fairy pools and wading in lochs (no matter the weather)

seeing some castles

visiting some whiskey distilleries

drinking some whiskey

eating honey whiskey porridge

generally revelling about whiskey

that sense of freedom you get when you travel (especially when you’re drinking whiskey)

time alone with my man, time with my camera, time with nature, time with myself… time, period.

Happy September, peeps!