By: Blonde Two
I am not a naturally brave person; I shake at stepping stones, watch over my shoulder in the dark and hate driving on the motorway.
But whenever I visit Scotland, it does something to me. Almost as soon as I get there, I can walk steep ridges, clamber up the sides of glens, balance on stones, explore on my own and wade through rivers. And I don’t want to stop doing it; from early in the morning, I want to explore every glen, burn and mountain.
Do you think there is something in the water, in the hills, in that soft, rich air that contains that unreachable element ‘braveness’? Is that why the Scots have a reputation for fierceness, why their mountains are higher than ours and why the sight of a kilt can turn a girl’s head?
Like confusing translations of gaelic place names; the reasons and understanding for all of this escape me. Maybe if I concentrate hard enough (and drink the odd dram of single malt) I can hold on to my Scottish Braveheart for a wee while. Or maybe I will have to return to the Highlands again, very soon!