June 11th
The Scottish coast is in sight! A glass half-full of lager. The last quarter of the journey is beginning. The final leg with Jette. It’s been quite the trip. Even though we knew each other before, only now can I say that I’ve truly gotten to know my fellow confirmation camp leader. I’ve come to know her as a gentle person. She still is. A modest and incredibly easy travel companion. These encounters are the golden moments in life that we remember for a long time – for the rest of our lives.
We woke up to good weather this morning. A few drops of rain fell, and then the sky opened up for the sun. The tent dried out, and we packed it into Tellu for the night ahead. My “studio apartment” is working flawlessly. I’ve gotten quite used to it during this trip to Ireland. I wonder if I’ll be able to transition to a real bed in Tellu without experiencing withdrawal symptoms?
The journey to Northern Ireland went smoothly. In fact, we only noticed that we had entered another country by the change in speed limit signs (from kilometers to miles). We arrived in the town of Larne with plenty of time to spare, enough to stop for lunch in town before heading to the port. The cuisine in Northern Ireland couldn’t elevate the Irish cuisine rating to excellent. Nevertheless, I’m still among the ranks of the overweight!
Ireland’s greenery is what sticks most in my mind. Also, the clear rivers and streams. The many pubs with musicians. The smaller and larger towns with their local shops. The differences in accents. The rugged, windy coasts, mountainous regions, peatlands, the thousands and thousands of multicolored sheep, the well-maintained – almost ornamental – gardens, the old castles and churches. And, of course, the wonderful people who were easy to communicate with and get along with. There’s a bit of a “Finnish” vibe here. No unnecessary frills and niceties. Things are as they are, with a Guinness on the side!
If I were to go on a retreat somewhere, Achill Island would be a very viable option. An unhurried and windy place with quite a few nice people, spread out just right… and sheep filling every corner!
We landed in Scotland in good order. Cairnryan is the name of the port. Hellishly difficult to write and even harder to pronounce! A small port halfway down an inlet reaching inland. The beautiful coastal scenery made our landing quite impressive.
We came from Ireland to Britain without any passport checks. The Brits’ outer borders are really porous! We even had whiskey with us, and no one was interested in it. Of course, the amount is so small that it wouldn’t elicit any emotional reactions from any border guard – at most, a pitying smile! Fortunately, Scotland is known for its brown liquid food. Maybe I’ll make some more purchases…
The journey from the port to the campsite followed the coastline. A stunning, absolutely stunning coastal route with small villages, castles, sheep… and then the whole thing fell apart completely. We suddenly arrived in a completely different reality. An enormous mansion built on the coastal road. Lawns mowed over hectares of land. A multi-story, over a hundred-meter-long main building on the inland side of the road and on the seaside, a perfectly manicured coastal milieu. And at the entrance, in letters the size of a dog: Trump Turnberry! My spirits plummeted completely, and the whole day almost went to waste. What the heck does that guy have to do with Scotland?!? Jesus, how such a thing can darken a person’s sunny mood! Next, we’ll probably run into some Putin Ranch, where blonde horses are waiting for a masculine dictator for riding trips! I’m currently listening to an audiobook called “From Russia with Blood,” which tells a grim story about Putin and the Russian oligarchs’ activities, especially in Britain! I’m having more whiskey! Fortunately, we ate yesterday’s leftovers as soon as we arrived. Mom always said you shouldn’t eat on an empty stomach… or was it drink… whatever, same difference!
Fortunately, I’m not traveling alone. I’m accompanied by two fine ladies who know how to go for an evening walk to watch the beauty of the setting sun over the sea and who couldn’t care less about Trumps and Putins. I envy them…
During their walk, I managed to almost set up my “studio apartment.” Eva and Jette came to finish the job with me. Now I can write in peace and enjoy my basic drink in good company.
It’s kind of bittersweet to think that the trip with Jette is almost over. On the other hand, it’s good this way. When you leave with a bit of longing and desire, you can come back.
Opposite our campsite, there’s a majestic mountain! In the evening sun, there were white dots on its slopes, which I recognized as sheep. There were many of them. Now they’ve disappeared somewhere. Maybe they’ve come down to the lower slopes to escape the wind. There’s plenty of wind here.**