Note: This post is an attempt on my part to consolidate past travel journals into this blog. This particular trip around Western Europe was taken in 2005. To read the complete series of post from this trip: Western Europe Summer
Wouldn’t it be nice to live in a place so rich in history that every mountain, every loch (lake), every field, and every glen (valley) seem to beg for their stories to be told? Stories of giants, warriors, maidens, and wee brunies and faeries that capture your imagination; stories of murder, betrayal, and love for the country that can be poignant, and heart wrenching, as well as stories that tickle your funny bone.
Wouldn’t it be nice to live in a place that is so breathtakingly beautiful to be there feels like a guilty pleasure worse than eating the best Belgian chocolate?
Wouldn’t it be nice to live among people who are proud of who they are, proud of their history and heritage and it shows in every perfect town, in every perfect village, and in every perfect hamlet?
I wish I could say, “Mom, Dad, I fell in love with Scotland and I’m staying, don’t wait up.” But I can’t, I have a flight to catch to Geneva today, but I will be back.