Of Driving and other Frightful Pastimes

We are spoiled in Minnesota.  We may not realize it as we slog through construction and curse at other drivers, but we are spoiled.  We have roads.  With shoulders.  And ditches.  Roads that two cars fit abreast with room in the middle for a third if we liked (or a large piece of lumber).  In Scotland, that is not the case.  There are roads, mind you, but not like ours.  They have dual carriage ways and single carriage ways.  The dual carriage ways have a dotted line between you and the oncoming traffic.  The single carriage ways may or may not have room for two cars to pass each other, no dotted line and no shoulders.  They do have passing places which are small niches carved out of one side of the road or the other that should you meet another car coming toward you, you can slow down and smudge over a bit and the two of you can wave and pass each other.  Where there should be a shoulder, there is a crumbly bit of pavement that is edged in either foliage that has taken over a foot of the road, a small wet ditch about a foot deep, a cliff going down into a river gorge, or a stone fence.  The road may or may not be wide enough for two cars to pass and a car is headed your way.  No passing place, stone fence, and a car bearing your way.  I dare you not to panic.

Oh, and did I mention, locals drive these roads at 50 mph plus.  And they are curvy.  Very curvy.

Here is what I have discovered about driving in Scotland.  First, do not stare at the crumbled edge of pavement on your left, you will fall off the road.  Look out front like you normally do.  Second, the other drivers know if there is room or not to pass and they will clue you in.  Try to ignore the fact that it looks like your side mirrors are going to high five as you pass each other.  They wont.  If the motorist coming toward you is not worried, slowing down, or moving to the side, you can both pass each other with a bit of room to spare.  You can actually see this if someone is in front of you (extremely helpful).  If the other driver is slowing down, slow down yourself.  If he moves over, you move over if you can.  Sometimes you can't and it's on the other driver to make the space if they can.  If the passing place is on your side, it is your responsibility to judge oncoming traffic and use the passing place and wait for the other car to pass.  You can also stop on the road opposite a passing place and let the oncoming car veer around you in it.

Now that I see there is some rhythm to the roadway, I have had much more pleasant driving experiences.  At least on roads.  Once you get into town, the intersections are a whole other matter.

In the wee hours of the morn

Beep Beep Beep... The noise pulled me instantly out of a deep sleep.  The kind of deep sleep where you are not quite sure you actually heard something or just dreamed it.  Your brain pauses for a moment to re-acclimate and debate whether you should panic or not.  Hmmm,  worthy of panic, not worthy of panic.  We'll keep the heart on notice while we wait.  Perhaps it will do it again.

Beep Beep Beep...  Oh, yes.  Definitely heard that.  Not worthy of panic decides brain, but worthy of investigation.  I know, I'll just get up in the dark and look around at what could be making that noise.
Flashlight in hand, I checked out the bedroom, all the while I am pretty sure I should know what makes that sound.

Beep Beep Beep...  Not in the bedroom, perhaps in the living room.  I pick up my phone, my kindle, neither of them seem distressed.  Did I leave the fridge door open?  Nope.  The oven on?  No.  Since I am in the kitchen, I noted the time: 5am.  And no, it wasn't the clock either.  Must go upstairs.

Beep Beep Beep...  Got it.  My old backup phone is sitting on the computer desk panicking and out of juice.  Fine.  I can certainly fix this at 5 in the morning.  But just when I am pounding down the stairs feeling a bit grumbly about a panicking cell phone disturbing my sleep AT 5 AM!, I round the corner and see this:

Funny how something you considered an annoyance turns into a blessing.

Going up the hill

This morning I decided to take a walk.  There is a path up to the hydro weir, so I figured I'd go hike up there and if I felt up to it, hike to the top of the hill and take a look-see.  Well, the hydro weir is at the top of the hill.  The climb was quite vigorous but the view was worth it.  Once I crested the hill, the vast expanse poured out before me, heather a-bloom, streams a-gurgling.  There was a good bit of craggy rock a bit higher to sit on, so I crossed a stream with much gracefulness and scrambled up the rocky bit and sat down.  The wind was strong on top of the hill and this song that David Crowder sings came to mind:


"How He Loves"
(originally by John Mark McMillan)

He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

And, oh, how He loves us, oh,
Oh, how He loves us,
How He loves us all

  I have always loved the imagery in this song, but sitting high in the hills, the wind blowing so hard all around, I felt God's presence strong as the wind, but gentle enough not to blow me off the side of the hill.

It was a good day.

On my own

Oh glorious jet lag, I have not felt your fuzzy-headed vengeance, for I followed the advice of a well traveled person and stayed up all day walking and writing and whatever.  I will, however, admit to becoming a bit slug-like and unresponsive for the last few hours.  I dare anyone else to fare better considering an 8 hour first flight, a 3 hour layover, an hour and a half second flight, and a frightening 45 minute drive on the wrong side of the road.  And all of it without falling asleep.

I did finally manage to cook dinner, take an amazingly hot bath in a tub that actually covered you with water.  All of you.  All at once.  Without bending your knees and splashing.  Allow me a moment...

Ok.  I was in bed by ten, Scotland time.  Tried to read through swirling eyes, gave up and was out in a matter of seconds.

I did not regain consciousness until 1:30 pm the next day.  I am not even all that ashamed to admit I had breakfast at two in the afternoon. It does make for a short day.

So, today all I did was run into Beauly for some additional groceries and things I didn't want to pack and lug all the way here.  The second attempt at driving was much better than the first.  The really narrow road is not that long.  And I am proud to report that I did not scream every time I passed a car on that road.  Didn't even squeak.  I made all the proper right handed turns and remembered to look for cars in the correct directions.  When I got back to the cabin, I felt like Tom Hanks in Castaway when he ran around yelling, "I have made fire!"

"I have driven a car!"

Amsterdam

Another view near my cabin

The stove

Dinner

 

Funny sign

The view from my deck

...and she DRIVES on the wrong side of the road!

I am truely a fortunate woman, and so are all the drivers near and around Inverness today because I had the best gift anyone could have given another human being.  I had Ian helping me navigate driving on the wrong side of the road.  If it wasn't for his generosity, most of northern Scotland would be dead by now and I will tell you why in one simple word: ROUNDABOUTS.  Don't they sound so fun, so carefree, like a merry-go-round?  Roundabouts...round and round we go.  No.  That is not the way they go.  First there's anticipation.  Here it comes.  I think I may have it...I see the signs.  Then there's confusion.  Wait!  Where is the traffic coming from?  I am supposed to merge with them?  In two lanes?  With all these triangley bits jutting into the road disorienting me?  And change lanes?  Twice.  And then get off...no!  Get off more... to the right...around that car.  Now go!  Then there's a bit of screaming.  Not the loud horror movie screaming, the little near miss screaming.  Just a bit and then you're done.  Oh wait.  There's another one right up ahead.

My hero Ian helped me navigate, oh maybe seven or eight of those things IN A ROW!  IN TRAFFIC!   And he did a great job!  I would not have made it if it weren't for him.

I am now safely in my cabin, with the car turned off.  I made some dinner and even figured out how to work the stove.  I am so tired...

...and she makes it!

Planes are not my favorite things.  Not at all.  First they scare you into thinking anything you pack in your suitcase may be considered a deadly weapon, then they make you wonder if you are going to have to pay for that free checked bag, then you spend hours agonizing over whether that carry on is really going to be acceptable because it doesn't quite fit the dimentional size allowances, but it does comply with the lineal measurements.  Then you weigh the things, several times, just to make sure.  And once you get to your plane to board, the guy behind you drags on a gymnasium and the guy behind him drags on a swimming pool.  Why?  Just why?

I don't know.

So today I flew with Delta, right at the end of their computer snafu, and actually as perks go on airline steerage, I was mightily impressed.  They boarded on time, handed out hot towels twice, had a full meal, and a snack, plus a beverage run about every hour.  Oh, and they had a pillow and blanket on your seat when you got on board, and complimentary headphones and sleep mask.  That has never happend to me on an airplane before.

We flew eight hours to Amsterdam, and although I tried to sleep, I eventually gave up and watched a movie.  Whe landed as they rolled the credits (I watched Insurgent, just in case you wanted to know and it was good).  Piling off the plane in Amsterdam, a brave woman stood to give directions to everyone getting off and since we are all adults and can take orderly turns, she was quickly surrounded by a mob of sleep deprived travelers all shouting out their connecting flight numbers. Completely undaunted, that brave woman shouted the appropriate gates back and we all shuffled off in that general direction.

The Amsterdam airport is quite the thing.  It is a whole lot of emptyness (chairs and boarding gates) and then it opens into this bright shopping oasis full of fun things to buy that you don't need and you will pay too much for.  I decided at this time I had better find something to eat.  I found a cafe serving eggs and potatoes, so I grabbed a plate (€8 for eggs!) and ate it like a starving tourist.

Oh and just as an aside, do not ask anyone in Denmarck for hot chocolate with coconut milk in it.  They will be horrified.  Believe me! Large negative reaction.  So now I may add offending a chocolate beverage selling woman to my list of lifetime achievements.  Yippy.