Vacations are largely wasted on me. I hate strange beds, become annoyed by eating out too often, get tired too quickly, and really would just rather be writing. My idea of a lovely holiday is one in which I just move somewhere for a month or two, so I can have all the fun of a new supermarket and funny potato chip flavors with none of the hassle of touring.
Nevertheless, I vacation. In this case, we went to Scotland to see Husband’s family.
Husband’s family likes to walk, as a hobby. I am not a great walker. Walks for me are the fifteen minutes I spend thinking of what comes next in my book. Once I’ve thought of it, I want to go write it down, not keep moving.
(I’m white, twenty-something, and well educated. I should adore travel! I don’t. I’m aware of the irony.)
To distract myself from my oodles of writing plans, I took photos. And so I present: “Scotland, in photographs of weird crap I find interesting.”
Britain has a horrifying love affair with Comic Sans, starting with this mint on the flight over. Seriously, though, that font was everywhere, from tea shop advertisements to signs at the National Rail Museum. And every time I saw it, I shuddered.
“I’m the ferry that’s taking you to Arron. Cars are delicious. Om nom nom.” Doesn’t it look like it’s about to eat something, though??
Stepping stones! Something every country, nay, every city needs more of. Everywhere.
This is foxglove, and it was everywhere. Lining the highways, sprouting around fences, it was what cornflowers are in America: ubiquitous and unremarkable. Except to me, of course. When I commented on it, Husband’s aunt pointed out that I shouldn’t eat it because it’s poisonous. Er, don’t think I was planning on that anyway, but thanks for the tip.
My Husband has the prettiest hair. But I must say, thistles in Scotland are far more deadly than their American counterparts. Those things had inch-long stickers and woody stems. Actually quite horrifying.
Does this look like picnic weather to you? Of course it does! Any weather is picnic weather with the right attitude! Sleet, hail, or just your ordinary drizzle–picnics are what you make of them. Or so British people say.
Diagon Alley! Just kidding, it’s the Shambles in York, but it sure looks like Diagon Alley, doesn’t it? I had that song stuck in my head all day.Medieval people could build stuff like this, but not figure out the whole bathing thing? Really? York Minster (that’s the big cathedral thingy with two towers, for those who didn’t know.)
This abbey could only have been more fun to explore if I’d had a broomstick. Seriously, how much fun would that be? Okay, I’d take a broomstick anywhere.This looks like a magical door somewhere. It’s literally just a gate to keep people out of an abandoned old house between two other houses, but!Okay, this is the best photograph ever, because do you know what the people up there are doing? Look closely. They’re having *broomstick training.* That’s right. In this world, someone out there is paid, twice a day, to teach people how to pretend to fly on broomsticks. While wearing wizard robes. An actual job. Dear god, I love people.
And that’s it! Do these photos thrill and excite you?
Okay, okay, if pressed I’ll admit that I had a good time, even if my lack of writing did begin to drive me slightly insane by the end. Now I’m back and writing and all’s well that ends well, right?
Under-Paid, Over-Enthused 
