May 29, 2013. No comments.
Something happens whenever I cross the border. A feeling of gentle excitement bubbles up from inside and everything expands. Fresh. Air. It reminded me of the very first time I went to Scotland - before I knew my Talisker from my Laguvullen and the Skye bridge hadn’t even been built yet. It reminded me of all my yearnings for beauty and space and nature and a little white cottage with a door in the middle. That I want to travel the Highlands by train one day, ride a motorbike and camp in the wild. That there are people who live happily in [read on]