So, the reason it has taken me so golly- gosh darn long to write is because two weeks ago I went to the Highlands, and Oh my gosh take me back. However as I say that, I've been trying to write down how amazing it was and how utterly life changing, but every time I sat down to write it all out I felt like this:
NOTHING. Nothing washed upon the shores of the blank page in front of me, I'm allowed to be a Prima Donna ONCE in a while (if you ask my brothers they'll say it's more than once in a while but they are wrong). The short of the story is I went to the Highlands through this tour service called Highland Experience, and honestly if you want a really good time, book with these people. Literally the most wonderful weekend I have had yet. So I piled into a wee bus with 18 other travelers (a family from Delhi, three middle aged bros, an overly affectionate couple from Spain, a less publicly affectionate couple from England, a girl and her aunt from I have no idea, a guy round about my age, and then there was me with a couple of friends). Our tour guide's name was James, originally from the Isle of Skye (where some of my people are from) but he now lives in Glasgow. NOT TO MENTION he was just a wee bit of a thing and he wore a kilt for the entire weekend. Yeah, I was in heaven. Before being a tour guide he worked in forestry so in the middle of a sentence James would break off and go "... and if you look to your right you'll see the Caledonian Pine..." Needless to say (but you know I'm going to say it) it was magical. Along with his magical descriptions and knowledge of the nature whizzing by us, James came up with these gems (accompanied by representations of my reactions):
"about as useful as a chocolate teapot"
"then there were these people... called the Victorians. And they were all on opium"
"This bridge we're crossing is actively crumbling, but don't worry, it's got a couple of months left in it"
"first week on the job the first aid kit fell and hit me on the back of the head. <laughs> That's just my life, concussed by a first aid kit"
"while you were away eating lunch I was having a confrontation with a parking attendant... I can be quite aggressive when provoked"
".. that is a strathgarry, and a strath is a glen... <thirty seconds of silence> which is a valley"
"a toast to the little man in the velvet suit... in other words a toast to a mole"
"eventually all of the Highlanders were replaced by sheep, because they were less rebellious"
"this color has become synonymous with Scotland. The trees are ginger. The land is ginger. Our women are ginger, we have ginger squirrels. We have red traffic lights. Basically everything is ginger"
".. by the by, if anyone collects fungus..."
"hurling, it's like hockey for psychopaths. Look- over there you can see some young hooligans playing it... oh wait... it looks like they are just running around... my mistake"
So yeah, we stopped and spent the night on the shores of Loch Ness, and I had some really good haggis. Like mind blowingly good. And I hear you ask: how can haggis be good, and to that I reply HOW CAN IT NOT BE?! I honestly can't express in words how beautiful the Highlands are, but I will say that on the drive back into Edinburgh my face looked something like this:
If you want the long version of the trip, please ask and I will go on for hours, I'm so glad I went! Life kept whizzing by after the trip and classes are continuing to escalate, one thing I have noticed about the university system here is that professors, as brilliant as they may be, are often closed against new ideas that contradict their own. This is frustrating but NO MATTER, I refuse a couple of close-minded profs to prevent me from having a grand old time while I am here.
In scone news I have yet to find a better scone than that of Kilimanjaro's.
Until the next post,
xxoo
E
NOTHING. Nothing washed upon the shores of the blank page in front of me, I'm allowed to be a Prima Donna ONCE in a while (if you ask my brothers they'll say it's more than once in a while but they are wrong). The short of the story is I went to the Highlands through this tour service called Highland Experience, and honestly if you want a really good time, book with these people. Literally the most wonderful weekend I have had yet. So I piled into a wee bus with 18 other travelers (a family from Delhi, three middle aged bros, an overly affectionate couple from Spain, a less publicly affectionate couple from England, a girl and her aunt from I have no idea, a guy round about my age, and then there was me with a couple of friends). Our tour guide's name was James, originally from the Isle of Skye (where some of my people are from) but he now lives in Glasgow. NOT TO MENTION he was just a wee bit of a thing and he wore a kilt for the entire weekend. Yeah, I was in heaven. Before being a tour guide he worked in forestry so in the middle of a sentence James would break off and go "... and if you look to your right you'll see the Caledonian Pine..." Needless to say (but you know I'm going to say it) it was magical. Along with his magical descriptions and knowledge of the nature whizzing by us, James came up with these gems (accompanied by representations of my reactions):
"about as useful as a chocolate teapot"
"then there were these people... called the Victorians. And they were all on opium"
"This bridge we're crossing is actively crumbling, but don't worry, it's got a couple of months left in it"
"first week on the job the first aid kit fell and hit me on the back of the head. <laughs> That's just my life, concussed by a first aid kit"
"while you were away eating lunch I was having a confrontation with a parking attendant... I can be quite aggressive when provoked"
".. that is a strathgarry, and a strath is a glen... <thirty seconds of silence> which is a valley"
"a toast to the little man in the velvet suit... in other words a toast to a mole"
"eventually all of the Highlanders were replaced by sheep, because they were less rebellious"
"this color has become synonymous with Scotland. The trees are ginger. The land is ginger. Our women are ginger, we have ginger squirrels. We have red traffic lights. Basically everything is ginger"
".. by the by, if anyone collects fungus..."
"hurling, it's like hockey for psychopaths. Look- over there you can see some young hooligans playing it... oh wait... it looks like they are just running around... my mistake"
So yeah, we stopped and spent the night on the shores of Loch Ness, and I had some really good haggis. Like mind blowingly good. And I hear you ask: how can haggis be good, and to that I reply HOW CAN IT NOT BE?! I honestly can't express in words how beautiful the Highlands are, but I will say that on the drive back into Edinburgh my face looked something like this:
If you want the long version of the trip, please ask and I will go on for hours, I'm so glad I went! Life kept whizzing by after the trip and classes are continuing to escalate, one thing I have noticed about the university system here is that professors, as brilliant as they may be, are often closed against new ideas that contradict their own. This is frustrating but NO MATTER, I refuse a couple of close-minded profs to prevent me from having a grand old time while I am here.
In scone news I have yet to find a better scone than that of Kilimanjaro's.
Until the next post,
xxoo
E
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