We were driving from Oban towards the Isle Of Skye, along Loch Lochy. I love that name. Loch Lochy! It's fun to say too. Try it: say Lock Locky, but also clear your throat twice at the same time. Fun-huh!
So, we were driving along the beautiful Loch, and we'd gotten a bit of a late start out of Oban, and we were thinking, "Maybe we should stay somewhere around here tonight instead of pressing onward?"
This is one of the really awesome things about Slow Travel. You get to discover things you want to go back to see. Every time we take a trip anywhere Bob and I stumble across two more things we want to do next week. Another really awesome thing is the lack of pressure to stay on a schedule. Of course there is the small matter of no income, and a bank account with what appears to be a startlingly large leak somewhere. But I digress...
Try again: So, we were driving along, and came to a cute little place in a particularly pretty spot. We decided to see if the Letterfinley Lodge had any rooms. As I parked the car the sun came out. Oh My God! It really was magical. Even the children were transfixed. By the time I booked our room, Bob was out on the back deck taking pictures of the loch, along with half the guests at the lodge. He and I braved the chill to watch the sun set with a glass of wine on the deck while the kids played pool in the lounge. I think they liked chalking their cues as much as any other part of the game.
It was one of those places and times we'll remember: the magic of that sun coming out after a day of rain, the family pool game where we all ribbed each other mercilessly, the very friendly Innkeeper, Ian, who's brother lives in Los Angeles, very close to where we used to live.
I spend a lot of time working hard to make a go of this hair-brained plan of ours. I spend a fair amount of time fretting about what will become of us in the end, now that we don't have a thing in the world to our name. But, there are many moments when I think, "This is enough. This is worth it."
All four of us, standing together in this beautiful place, awestruck by this wonderful moment, was one of those times.
Thanks, Ian.