Return from the North

And so I am back from the Frozen North, slightly earlier than expected. Well, really only a day earlier. We were meant to drive back today, but for various reasons, as detailed below, there was a change of plan.

It was cold

Holy Loch Ness Monster, Batman, but it was brrrr chilly. Chilly as in a raw numb ache down in the bones.

The freezing temperatures should really not have come as a big shock. I mean, it is March in Scotland. But as we discovered, there is a certain disconnect between looking at pretty pictures (taken in summer) of rental options, and the reality of just how bracing the weather can be. Plus, these old cottages, while incredibly romantic-looking and undeniably picturesque, do tend to lack certain key things, like insulation. The crackling log fire on the hearth, while lending a jolly atmosphere to the living room, failed utterly to lessen the bone-numbing cold. It was like spending a week in an ice box.

Now, lest you think I am a whiner, I would assure you that normally, the cold might not have been such a big problem. Except, and that brings me onto my second reason-

I forgot to bring a bunch of stuff

Clearly I had some sort of brain lock while I was throwing things into my duffel case, because when we arrived and I took stock of both my surroundings and my packing, I realised with a sinking feeling that there were some grave omissions. This irked me so much for days that I actually made a list midway through the week. Here are some examples:

- Long winter underwear & thermal top. Absolute disaster. Made the bracing countryside walks twice as bracing.
- Proper walking boots. Source of gigantic row with E. I was sure boots were in the flat in the Other City, while he was adamant I had left them in the hall closet at home. Had to make do with a pair of his old Timberlands and three pairs of socks.
- Book which I was in the middle of reading. I brought plenty of other reading material, but kept wishing I had remembered to stick Strange & Norrell in the bag.
- Mud mask. Had vague notion that clean country air would revitalise skin tone, aided by home spa-like treatments. Hah.
- Bath salts. See above.
- Soap. Ah. Slightly more crucial lapse. A certain pong developing about our persons, particularly after all those brisk hikes.
- Tweezers. Another absolute disaster. Eyebrows seizing opportunity afforded by unfortunate lapse of strategic planning, threatening to colonize face by third day.

We ran out of food

This was not entirely our fault. On the way to the cottage, we stopped off in Fort William to stock up on a week's provisions at the big grocery store. However, we were prevented from entering by a harrassed looking shop assistant, who barricaded the entrance with his large self, announcing to the growing crowd behind us that the store was closed. Something about "leaking freezer" and "fumes" and "environmental health".

So we had no choice but to join the throng in heading to the small "Metro shop" in town. Clearly the closure of the big store was was the most exciting thing to happen in Fort William for some time, because everyone had to stand in the narrow aisles of the Metro shop discussing it, blocking our access to the wine. It was hell on earth.

Consequently our provisioning for the week consisted of a rather strange mix of items, such as tins of baked beans, a jar of olives, some indifferent rashers of bacon and the odd muffin or two. We ran out of both booze and firewood by Thursday, a very grim state of affairs. We went to bed that night with the wind howling over the loch, a storm approaching.

So in the end, we decided to head home. It was, all things considered, a nice time. We had some lovely walks, and the scenery was achingly beautiful. We saw an otter and some, um, nice birds.

There was also time to rest and reflect. Whereupon I discovered that in the current circumstances, I feel better when I don't have quite so much opportunity to sit around brooding about "things", getting too deep into my own head. Like how the cottage would have been so much cosier if it was occupied by a family. Like my worry that this is it, for the rest of our lives, the two of us rattling around trying to fill time. Like realising how much I was missing my computery friends.

It's good to be home.

Comments

[deborah]

Welcome home, Mare...we missed you!

Personally, I probably could have roughed it another day or two without the firewood. But NO FUCKING WAY would I stick around after the booze ran out. You made the right decision coming home when you did.

[Pamplemousse]

Mare, welcome back to civilization and soap haha! It has been freezing this week here on the East Coast too.

I am afraid that I require all my home comforts when en vacances now as I spent too many of my formative years roughing it in the Scottish hinterlands under canvas!

[Emily]

Mare,

So glad to have you back...I missed you!

I have one word for you J.a.m.a.i.c.a.

Enough of these 'roughing' it trips!

xxoo,

[Amyesq]

I'm with Deb, once the booze runs out, you can't even get drunk, run around, and pretend you are warm. Welcome back. I went to your site yesterday, saw you weren't back, and sighed. We missed you.

[Heidi]

No booze? Enough said.

Welcome back. (And welcome to Typepad! I haven't officially greeted you over here yet. I like your new digs. Much easier for my commenting pleasure too. Always a plus.)

[Kristin]

Welcome back Mare. I missed having your blog to read.

[lobster girl]

Welcome back, Mare. I missed you.

[Anna H.]

Mare! You're home! I missed you.

That pic is beautiful and I'm so glad that you two got away from it all. Well, almost all of it... your time away reminds me of the trip we took last summer to celebrate our tenth anniversary and the honeymoon we'd never had. We stayed at a beautiful spot on a gorgeous, isolated Mexican cove and it couldn't have been more lovely, except that I spent the whole time thinking the same things you were thinking: what would it be like to play in the warm waves with our kids? Is this the rest of our lives?

I so hope that someday soon you won't have to worry about these things anymore, dear Mare. And that you'll have warm little people to keep you occupied in drafty loch-side cottages.

(No matter what though, you won't be able to get rid of your computery friends...)
xxoo

[Nina]

Welcome back, Mare!

[usako]

welcome back =) missed you, too

[Lala]

Welcome back, pong and all.