Sometimes your worst fears come true. They can be small fears, like being landed with a parking ticket in the heart of the countryside on a Sunday afternoon when all you’ve done is to park up on a wide verge so as to take a walk across the moors. Or they can be large fears, … Continue reading Sometimes
In the west of Scotland there’s a tiny island, south of Oban, called Easdale where there are no cars, no roads, no street lamps and about sixty inhabitants. It’s nestled between the Isle of Mull and the mainland, making it feel soft and sheltered, or perhaps that was just the luck of my visit to … Continue reading Simplicity
“Basically you’ve run away.” The words slipped out, loosened by the Burns Night whisky; I called it Talisker-tongue. I immediately feared that branding her a runaway may not have been the most sensitive thing to say, but S. didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, she giggled delightedly. “Yes, I suppose you could say that, … Continue reading Runaway
My Edinburgh Press 