I am sitting facing my computer trying to think of what I want to say about my travels.  I have been home for four days now, and it is hard to believe I was ever away.  I do have the pictures to show for it, and a lingering tiredness…

Scotland is beautiful.  You can read literature from, facts about, history of, and pictures of a place, but I know I don’t fully grasp something until I experience it.  I chose to go to Scotland because I figured I would have enough things to think about without going to a country that I didn’t speak the language.  That was mostly true.  After being there for a month, I still would approach a car from the wrong side and I never did figure out the pedestrian crossings nor which direction to look for on coming traffic.  Even though English is spoken, turns of phrase, meanings, pronunciations, cadence, and brogue create a language that is distinctive and separate to the English I speak.  I will specifically refer to the word pants.  When I say pants, I mean trousers.  In Scotland, pants refer to underwear.  You can see the potential for misunderstanding and funny looks.

I tried not to place any expectations on this journey, other then the desire to do something different and see something of the world.  Although it might sound trite, I did learn a lot on many different levels.  How to care for chickens.  How long it takes me to warm up to new situations.  That nettle, even though it is useful and flavourful, stings for a very long time after contact.  I need to learn how to plan better, but also reassess the plan and change it as needs be.  I haven’t had any epiphanies, but I wasn’t expecting them. I did discover I am a homebody, but that doesn’t mean I won’t travel again.  It just means I will take some of home with me next time, in the form of a family member.