Looking for my corner of Scotland

For: Daniel Landa (Text and photos)
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I went to tour Scotland, as one who flees to rain, looking solitudes across Europe. He was hungry for cliffs, whiskey thirst and desire to lose. I, I understand the trip as a shared experience, I decided this time to let go of any company.

So I landed in Edinburgh. I put on good shoes and I adjusted my face tourist, with my plane city and the smiling look of the first times. I felt bumping into the old town, so looked almost vertical stroke. The personality of this city lies in its heights, with walls, castles, palaces, streets and Irish pubs, all at once, top of each other, on a hill that goes superimposing medieval beauties. The city stands as the perky places rise, standing.

I felt bumping into the old town, so looked almost vertical stroke.

So I arrived at the Castle, you do not know well if you are on high to be seen from anywhere or is rather the opposite, and it is from there that one has to watch the rest of the city. In any case I found solmene and beautiful as other cities that tell the story of the Anglo-Saxon world.

But, the past of this city is best read down. I did not hesitate to sign up for an excursion into the ground. Edinburgh is counted in the passages that time has rescued himself to understand that there was a maze of streets and stories, pest and businesses. Surprising to see that there are entire buildings buried, houses up to five and six plants (skyscrapers old) which they formed the ancient city.

But with the first fish & the latest chips and pints of stout, I decided to get out of there. I took a bus to the north with no plans to go away south. He had hoped to reach some people lost sea between cliffs, be seduced by strangers and if the need arises, Scottish fisherman myself and live the nostalgia of those storms.

He had hoped to reach some people lost sea between cliffs, be seduced by strangers and live the nostalgia of those storms.

I reached Inverness, on the banks of the River Ness and I stayed on a Break & Breakfast, once seen the price, I would have done without the breakfast. I traveled often the main street and enjoyed the order of sidewalks, silence and under the gray sky strolling locals redheads, more concerned about the direction of the seagulls by the Crown of England. There begins to be away from the rest of Britain, There began my journey disconnection. In a fit of parting more and more, I rented a tiny car and went to the road. Lost people I was looking for it to be called Nairn. He had its Protestant church and its very small houses and flowery. The harbor was calm with boats berthed in perfect harmony. Even he had a kiosk in the middle of a deserted beach, pale and cold sand for not passing anyone.

And that night, as planned, I let myself be seduced by strangers, I drank whiskey and seconded toasts with some young people who did not quite catch them accent. It was fun, but I gave up the idea of ​​becoming a fisherman in Nair. I do not know, maybe it was too Scottish for palentino.

The next morning I sat down to watch the sea. There was a bench in the middle of nowhere, bench seating to look, not to expect anything or think about what is to come. Scotland seemed a suitable place for minds blank, to bury watches and feel the air of the northern seas. But I was looking for my Scottish history, my before and my after.

Scotland seemed a suitable place for minds blank, to bury watches and feel the air of the northern seas.

So I decided that if, it would be, I had enough faith to find the Loch Ness monster and I went there, around the lake and observing any movement, stopping here and there among castles and wharves. I was scanning the water a good time at a bend in paragraph, almost no vegetation. There was no one else. After several minutes of painstaking surveillance, I noticed something strange in the water, something that stuck not far from the shore. It was a pole.

I not quite satisfied with my discovery (On Loch Ness there sticks!), I told myself I had to try to reach my place apart from the world in which to start, maybe, a new life. I crossed the Isle of Skye in a new bus. The fog became giants mountains and lakes was lugubrious. The journey seemed like a fable, rough, lonely, treeless, and peoples, or a shepherd wandering humanize the landscape. I peeked into sullen cliffs and beaches of gravel and finally reached a town called Uig.

One guy stayed in a hostel overlooking one of the last beaches in the Highlands of Scotland

I saw a merchant ship started, it seemed to me huge for such a small town. And when the ship disappeared, the people made me even smaller. One guy stayed in a hostel overlooking one of the last beaches in the Highlands of Scotland. And there was I, walking a shore of beach pebbles with vocation. Not far from there, I could see the grim cliffs profile. It blew cold air and began to sparkle.

The only place open was a pub next to the port. The bar was empty and ordered a pint the waitress. When I brought the beer he asked where I was going. I said that actually this was the destination of my trip. He wiped the bar with a rag and gave me the most melancholy look of Scotland.

 

 

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Comments (8)

  • Bullfight

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    Poignant. If I had been thinking a while, I already understand clearly: I shall return to North. With capital letters, because it is the northern nortes (especially for southern Cordoba).

    Just a note (that I suspect it will have been error corrector, paradoxes of life): is the Isle of Skye (no Skype… ) 🙂

    Thanks!

    Answer

  • Daniel Landa

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    Thanks, Bullfight, what I was thinking!!! Both talking on Skype…

    Answer

  • Bullfight

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    You're welcome! They assume will be part of the job. When one has seen more than half the planet, Skype must be recorded in the subconscious strong muuuy!

    Answer

  • Lydia

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    The first time I went to Scotland, I traveled alone, although I visited a friend in Edinburgh. Loved. Your story has brought me good memories. It is a destination that I will.

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  • Adrián

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    Hola Daniel, five minutes I finished reading your book makes, your book. I, rarely leave the classical authors and consecrated not afford to lose work time, I drank your words. Thanks. It is a bad aftertaste because of those poor assholes, but I'm sure even today you will give thanks to so. I'd love to know what you walk now tucked each of you. I will look online. For now I stay a little longer for this page looking at the pictures of my countryman Jose Luis. A hug.

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  • Daniel Landa

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    Thank you very much, Adrián! The truth is that we only have great moments. In fact, I am about to return to the road, It'll be very soon, right now I go to the Pacific!

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  • Carlos

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    Hola Daniel, reading your solo trip by Scottish Highlands, I remembered mine, except that ……accompanied by 16 others. Paisajes como los de la isla de Skye » la isla del fin del mundo «, their pints of beer, welcoming people despite their unintelligible accent,….
    I liked your story.
    Good luck on your next trip through the Pacific, I eagerly await your next documentary.

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  • Laura B

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    Wonderful, Super medieval and literary. That desire to see bats Loch Ness and take melancholy beers
    Gracias 🙂

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