Tag: Scotland

Expect a slide night

Expect a slide night

It’s week nine and I have taken 2,562 photos. Many photos of buildings, paintings and churches, some photos of food, multiple selfies, lots of squirrels, even more lion statues, lots of Don and me standing in front of famous things grinning inanely. Photos with our heads chopped off, photos with only half the background.

But if there’s one subject with which I may have gotten a tad carried away, it’s autumn.

Well come on, everywhere is full to the brim with trees, their leaves changing colours at varying rates – we don’t get that at home. Clouds of red, orange, brown, yellow, rust stretched as far as you can see, blankets of yellow and brown to shuffle and swing your feet through, massive bursts of red. It’s just so beautiful, I could happily spend all day just walking through the parks, gardens and wilderness. Taking photos.

In Lucca, London and Scotland, Queen of the autumn leaf brigade, I’ve taken:

  • 9 landscape photos of various parks
  • 7 close ups of leaf litter
  • 10 selfies with background leaves
  • 2 photos of Don disappearing into a leafy wilderness
  • 6 photos of me crouched amongst the leaf litter
  • 15 photos of individual trees that looked particularly pretty
  • 18 photos up tree lined avenues
  • 1 photo of Don and Kristin disappearing into tree lined avenue wilderness
  • 8 photos of London landmarks carefully framed amongst the autumn leaves
  • 16 photos of Scottish castle surrounds
  • 15 photos of Scottish castles within their surrounds
  • 7 photos of trees along a bubbling creek
  • 5 photos of sheep in fields surrounded by autumn trees.

As I said, a tad carried away. Thank goodness our next stop is Iceland.

Welcome to Scotland

Welcome to Scotland

It was four degrees when we arrived in Aberdeen. Four.

That’s ok, we were expecting the cold so we were dressed appropriately when Kristin picked us up from the airport. And even better, Gary had built a roaring fire to welcome us after the long drive to their country home.

A burning, crackling, coal driven, flames hurtling up the chimney roaring fire.

I took my coat off at the front door and we snuggled into the living room with several drams of whisky, welcome to Scotland champagne, a determination not to peak too soon and the roaring fire.

After a while I had to take my shoes off. Gary put more coal onto the fire. We drank some more whisky and champagne, a bottle of red was opened.

It got warmer. I took my socks off. Gary put even more coal onto the fire. We switched to white wine, the whisky kept coming.

It got even warmer. Burning up a wee bit, I took my scarf off. Then I took my jumper off.

Gary put more coal onto the fire and brought out more whisky. I took my shirt off. Then I shoved the sleeves of my long t-shirt up my arms.

It was one degree outside, yet sitting in that tiny living room was like being in a bikram yoga class with endless alcohol.

In danger of stripping down to my underwear, Kristin eventually moved us into the dining room where it was icy cold and much more comfortable.

It wasn’t that we couldn’t feel the cold. Because there’s no way we peaked too soon.