In which I see a single road sign while driving around on my own, and the realization that I really don’t want this trip to finish in two days comes crashing down on me.

While I was driving around myself earlier today, heading to the Auchentoshan Distillery, I saw a signpost for Crianlarich.

Crainlarich is about 40 miles north. It sits at the head of Loch Lomond, an is the junction to some of my favourite places: Oban, Glencoe, Fort William, over to Loch Ness or Perth. I love these places, and I love the roads that take you there. Driving through Glencoe in particular is just stunning.

Our travels this trip didn’t take us to Crianlarich, but I suddenly really wanted to drive there… and then keep on driving. The joy and freedom of just driving to all the wonderful places we’ve been these past few weeks was suddenly quite overwhelming. The scenery of every drive we’ve taken flashed through my mind, the hills, the glens, the single-track roads, and I realized that I just didn’t want to stop. It’s been wonderful, I’ve loved it, and I don’t want to return to reality. It actually took some effort of will not to race past the entrance to Auchentoshan and drive around the highlands for the rest of the day, taking in as many of the places above as I could. Of course, it would only have delayed the same sensation at the end of it, which was really what snapped me back to reality.

I love this country. I love the people. Quite apart from friends and family, this past week has been filled with interactions with happy and relaxed folks who I’m sure have problems that they’re dealing with the same as everyone on the planet does, but weren’t showing it. The US is a disgusting place just now. It’s always been a more intense culture than Scotland (this from a Glaswegian), and for so many terrible reasons. Americans work themselves to death, are tired and stressed way too much of the time, and the culture encourages this despite all the evidence that  screams that it’s wrong wrong wrong. I don’t like the effect that it’s had on my personality over the past couple of decades, and these trips back home are intended to help me reset myself a little, with the help of exactly the kinds of people we’ve been interacting with. Our friends and colleagues back home are all wonderful and I’m beginning to miss them. But here, today, staring at that signpost, I’m reminded of what I miss when I’m gone from here.

There’s always going to be a part of me that’s here in Scotland, drawing me back, trying to tell me to take things easier, and reminding me that the mountains and glens and islands that I miss so much have been around for a long long time, and will be waiting for me when I next come back, along with a nice wee dram to enjoy them by.