July 22nd to the 25th
I was going to go to Paris over the weekend. That didn't work out so well. Instead, I went camping. Crawford's suggestion, clearly not mine.
On Saturday night, Javier, Crawford and I went through to Edinburgh to have dinner with his folks and ready his family's camper van for the next morning when friends Marc, Isobel and Paul were joining us for the trip.
I was so happy to go again to Crawford's parent's house and spend some more time with his family. His parents had white wine chilled for me when we arrived and dinner waiting. His mom made soup and shepard's pie. J'adore, it was amazing.
We three slept over in the cosy living room, Javier on the "soldier's bed" (a WWI relic and surprisingly comfortable) while Crawfy and I shared the pull out bed. He said I snored, I said his moaning all night was worse. Oh, now that sounds dirty.
Marc and Crawford know each other from the Glasgow, Paul is Marc's childhood best friend while Isobel is Marc's fiance whom he met while travelling in South America. Their relationship is so lovely, it made me want to dive into the middle of it. Example, one day during the trip, it was raining and Marc came back into the camper wet. Isabelle presented him with a cup of tea and he just hugged her and sighed, "Como te amo." It means, How I love you.
Our trip started off on the shores of Loch Ness where Paul fished unsuccessfully and we drank pints in the makeshift campsite pub while playing games of darts and pool. The next day we travelled north to Glen Affric, home of some of the oldest Scotch pines in the country. There we hiked through the glen, along the loch and while the rest of the group went up one of the hills, I strolled back to the camper, stopping along the way to drink from fresh springs and sit under sprawling rowan trees to read the latest Harry Potter. It was so perfect and so beautiful, I could hardly stand myself. On my way back to the camper, it began to rain and by the time I got there, it was pouring. I was pretty wet when I got inside but not as soaked as the rest of the gang as they trooped up half an hour later drenched.
We decided to camp that night along the shores of the loch. Not such a great idea. Being out there alone in the complete darkness was great. The midges that swarmed the camper though, not so great. In complete frustration, Crawford broke off the leg of the camper awning as the little buggers engulfed him.
Midges are a Scottish phenomenon. They swarm the west coast in the trillions every summer and make life darn near unbearable. Every Scot has a story of tourists heading to the west for holiday and then leaving after one day because of the little bastards. They are smaller than a fruit fly and will bite the shit out of you. Every morning, I would wake up with midgie bites all over my chest, but who could blame them?
For our last day, we made our way back south to the heart of the Highlands and the tallest mountain in Britain, Ben Nevis. I didn't have proper shoes to climb a mountain with. Thankfully, that was a good excuse. Whilst the others hoofed it up the mountain, Javi and I sat in the sun that finally shined after a week. I was reminded of an old married couple sitting on their porch as Javi and I lazed on our lawn chairs on the grass outside the camper. We made dinner for everybody while they were gone. Javi chopped, I stirred and something small was rekindled in my heart as we together decided against more squash and opted for another potato instead.
Paul and Crawford were the first to arrive back. They made the return trip in 3:45. It takes a normal person close to 8 hours, but those boys trekked up it in about three and literally ran down in 45 minutes. Isobel and Marc took a bit longer. It didn't help that Crawford and Paul left them behind early on and accidentally, took all their water with them.
Our last night together was spent sitting around the dinner table, eating our stew, munching on chocolate digestives and playing a rousingly long game of Trivial Pursuit. We called it a draw at 2am.
The last day we had a leisurely drive through Glencoe and took a group shot along the road. We dropped the camper in Edinburgh and said our goodbyes. Crawford's dad dropped Javi, Crawford and I off at the train station a couple of hours later. I was late for my train and ran to catch it. I hardly had time to say goodbye to my boys, which in the end, was just easier. I was on my way to St. Andrews...
Labels: crawford, javier, scotland, travel
First stop was Trafalger Square, then down Whitehall to Westminster Abbey.
Next, over Westminster Bridge to walk along Southwark. Mike insisted we stop in an arcade for some gaming. I sat and watched while the boys played bumper cars. I still hadn't taken money out from the bank and I hate a hand-out.
Along Southwark, on our way to the Tate Modern, was a Turkish fair. Mike bought a kebab and it came with a free Ayran. The boys hated the yogurt drink, so I sipped it while dreaming of sesame rings in Istanbul.
