Wednesday, October 08, 2008 

Weekending to Nowhere

For our two year anniversary we decided to go somewhere different, somewhere completely new. We decided to go to a loch in the centre of Scotland, a few miles away from Loch Lomond, and a train, bus and taxi ride away from civilisation. My sweetheart’s initial idea was to go camping; however this did not fit in the least with my ideas of cleanliness or comfort. So, instead, we stayed ensuite bed and breakfast in a village that consisted solely of hotels, bed and breakfasts, and was approximately fifteen houses big. It did not however have any mobile network reception with five miles of it which unfortunately meant that I could not use my laptop or phone as planned. It also didn’t have any TV other than channels one two three and four, or a DVD player. What it did have was amazing scenery, ridiculously loud deer, and a shop that mostly sold wellie warmers and was so used to customers that we had to wait five minutes for the owner to realize he had customers and unlock the door.

It was beautiful if isolated and cold. We walked fifteen miles, failed to find a tea shop anywhere regardless of promises that the scenery was inundated with them, and drank the local bitter in a pub that had only three other people in it on a Saturday night. And, more than anything else, it was strange. To a girl who believed that she had been brought up in the middle of nowhere, I found myself having to readjust my idea of what exactly constitutes nowhere. There wasn’t even a bus service, there was little other than a couple of fishermen and some deer. While I was completely enamored of it, and loving having the complete and unwavering attention of my sweetheart for a weekend, it was a little too different to be completely comfortable with.

I learnt something. I love the outdoors, I love being where there isn’t anything else. I never thought I could appreciate those things since I rarely appreciate life without a starbucks in my hand and a place where I genuinely can’t get away with wearing any of my enormous shoe collection seems a waste somehow to me. I love four inch heels, I love takeaway food, I adore regular bus and taxi services, I can’t live without Saturday afternoon clothes shopping, and I wouldn’t be able to live without a Sainsburys, Asda, Tesco and Morrisons all within fifteen minutes of my flat. But, regardless of the lack of every single one of those things, I enjoyed myself, and almost saw a life without those things, and with a couple of replacements. It’d be a good place to raise small children.

But that’s not for a good ten years yet. I may not have been single for a long time, and I may live with my (I assume) life partner already, but it’s too early to decide what will happen next. So, a little regretfully, we returned to the city, put the walking boots in the back of my shoe closet where they belong, and cuddled up in our centrally heated flat in front of digital television- the least number of channels I believed anyone could survive on until this weekend.


About me

  • An albatross can fly for thousands of miles without getting tired. I've always thought that love is similar to flying, therefore we should aspire to be like the albatross.

    I don't know if I can do that. So far I haven't been so lucky. But one day I'll test my wings with someone, and flying won't be so hard after all. Or so painful.
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Save the Albatrosses


    * In 2001 one New Zealand fishing boat killed over 300 seabirds in just one trip, while fishing for ling.
    * Each year over 300,000 seabirds are killed by longline fishing.
    * Over the past 60 years some albatross populations have declined by 90%.
    * Annually around 10,000 albatross and petrels are caught in New Zealand waters alone.
  • Save the Albatrosses
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