My Beloved Scotland

For the past four years, I’ve chosen to spend vacation time in Scotland twice a year, in August for a few weeks, and then each March for a quick eight-day visit. Last summer marked the first time I didn’t go back, and I missed my Highlands in a way that didn’t surprise me in the least. It only made me look forward to my recent trip even more than usual.

It’s fair to say that a lot of my friends, family, and colleagues haven’t fully understood my great love affair with Scotland, and it would be equally fair to add that beyond travelling there in 2001 with my then-boyfriend-now-husband to heal the wounds from my father’s death, I’ve never fully understood either how it got under my skin in the summer of 2014 and just never let go. After this holiday, though, I think I am as close as I will ever be to making sense of why this place is so special to me and why I need to return as often as I do.

There is the landscape; stark, majestic, with the most incredible combination of colours I've not found anywhere else, the browns and greens of an island climate and the black and grey of rock peppered with purple patches of heather. At every turn, the mountains rise up from the empty road to remind you that you are in the middle of some of the most beautiful scenery on Earth. You literally run out of “holy fucks” to say, but it never ceases to take your breath away for those few seconds of wonder. I’ve never felt tired of looking out the window, and never once thought it will be my last time driving through Glencoe because I’ve seen all there is to see. It is really that magnificent.

The Grey Mare's Tail in the Southern Uplands. It was too dangerous to attempt the climb, but I was so happy to have seen its beautiful outline again.

Lochan in the village of Glencoe. Canadian fir trees make it seem like home.

The wild reindeer herd in the Cairngorms National Park.

There are the people. The ones I know there that I am so lucky to call my good friends are some of the kindest, funniest individuals I’ve ever met. It matters little that we only see each other once or twice a year, or that it must be a quick coffee stop, or that we manage a longer lunch or dinner at what have become favourite restaurants in Glasgow, Falkirk, and Edinburgh. The willingness on their part to come find us whenever or wherever we are nearby is what makes the reunion special, and I am grateful that they all make the effort to rearrange their schedules to make it happen. Once we hug and settle down together at the table, the banter and chin wags begin and you would swear we have known each other all our lives because the flow of conversation seems effortless and natural. They are all people I met online due to my love of music, and some more specifically because of connections through the novels I wrote, but it makes me smile that they have also formed new friendships with one another and in some cases discovered new places in their own land as a result of coming out see us. I cannot imagine never seeing them again, even though there are trips when we don’t manage to fit everyone in: there is always next time, because we know the return is inevitable and that the tables will be waiting for us.

The usual suspects, or as I love to call them, our Scottish clan. <3

And there is me, the scatterbrained and hyper social butterfly with wanderlust who has fallen in love with Scotland’s landscape and its people, which absolutely includes those I don’t personally know but encounter on our travels. They have a welcoming attitude that immediately makes me feel back at home; there is a playful banter that I recognise, appreciate, and happily engage in at every turn, knowing that the give and take of affectionate teasing is how one moves from stranger to acquaintance and sometimes beyond that to become friends. It has made me happy to share Scotland with my friends on the last three springs there, and to see that I have not been the only one deeply affected by this magical place. It is much like finding a favourite restaurant and wanting to bring people I care about there, and making sure that every time I return, I try something different on the large, inviting menu. 

The last thing I have mused about has to do with expectations and disappointments. Our flight was delayed by one day, and we had to rearrange a few things to keep to the itinerary I had planned for the group. None of it mattered in the end because we all got along famously and were flexible in switching our daily plans to accommodate the changes and challenges that we faced once or twice during the week together. This time, the weather was colder than I’d ever seen it in March, as it had been back in Canada. I was dreading going over and finding the same cold and damp, and instead found sensory delights I didn’t expect:  the roads were always clear, and the blanket of snow on the mountains made the roaming wildlife so much easier to spot; there was a reindeer visit, and there were deer, goats, and Highland cattle to enjoy. When we couldn’t hike the Grey Mare’s Tail because of the freezing rain storm, we delighted in a return to the sweet shop in Moffat that had been closed earlier and detoured into the capital ahead of schedule for a different adventure. The snow in Edinburgh made the Royal Mile postcard pretty and we all found a silver lining to each cloud that rolled by. We could not have booked better accommodations, which my fellow travellers attributed to my diligent efforts but which I will also admit has much to do with an off-season trip: we had access to saunas, swimming pools, and excellent dinners and breakfast at every stop. We finally got to see the inside of Eilean Donan Castle and get some ‘extra’ attention from their guide because it was fairly empty, we walked the hallowed grounds of the Culloden Battlefield, sampled some of the finest Speyside whiskies, and got some interesting geography and history lessons at the Roslyn Chapel. 

The marker for the fallen of Clan Fraser at the Culloden Battlefield.

The magnificent Eilean Donan Castle, on the road to Skye.

The snowy garden view of our favourite B and B just below Calton Hill in Edinburgh.

Through it all, we drove up and down the most beautiful and empty roads I’ve ever seen, listening to great tunes and having relaxed conversations with my travelling companions. I realised that I need two things in life to be happy: an attractive but decluttered backdrop to slow down and still my overactive brain, and the company of affectionate and kind people to fill my heart and soul. In Scotland, I have found both these treasures, and that’s why I will always return.