The one where three went to the Isle of Tiree. On a teeny tiny plane. And hid from the world for a few glorious, laughter filled days.
A long-awaited trip postponed due to Covid related restrictions. Flights and accommodation rebooked, and fingers crossed every time the First Minister announced new information regards Scotland’s release.
Weather forecasts scrutinized, and bags tentatively packed without any expectations until Ms Sturgeon gave the green light to go.
Lateral flow tests done, twice. Carry-on cases packed with only comfy clothes and jammies. Having previously planned on walking and cycling, my recent health issues and one companion sporting a sprained ankle meant healthy notions were abandoned and car hire swiftly organised.
Like children on Christmas Eve, we hardly slept, and I saw every single hour of the clock between midnight and 4am. As designated driver I stressed about sleeping in, I needn’t have worried. I’ve turned into my dad and wanted to head through early to miss the traffic.
We’d have breakfast and relax before the flight. What a riot. The roads were empty. The car park was empty. The airport was empty and every single shop, food outlet and coffee vendor firmly closed. Only three giggling, hobbling numpties wandering about like a scene from a zombie film, only nobody had told us we were the cast.
The bliss of it all
Thank goodness for a delayed flight as we’d only arrived with two hours to spare! What a joy though, a completely different experience not herding husbands and children down gangways or struggling to find five seats together.
We lounged, we relaxed, we drank coffee from vending machines and we revelled in the knowledge our wee trip was finally under way. An afternoon napping schedule was agreed on, this was no 18 -30s jaunt after all.
Scotland never fails to impress. The scenery from our tiny Lego plane was breathtaking. We flew out over the Clyde with clear blue skies showing hints of white beaches and turquoise seas appearing not long after.
With less time than it would take to eat a packet of mini cheddars, we’d landed and disembarked to begin our blustery, mini, island adventure.
It was a bit like Hot Fuzz
The car hired was larger than the plane and my smart arse companions had bought me a chauffeur’s hat and white gloves to complete my look. How wonderful everyone on the island waved cheerily as we passed!
Only later coming to light the car belonged to a local lass and people just wondered why she was driving round in ‘uniform’. It reminded me of the movie Hot Fuzz where the villagers use walkie talkies to warn of police presence.
I am utterly convinced the Islanders used a similar system to warn of the direction of those ‘three daft mainland wummin’ touring about in the big black motor. Nothing like being notorious within minutes of arrival.
Tiree did not disappoint. We were invited to go surfing, politely declining as nobody needs to see this in a wetsuit. The staff at newly opened Reef Inn fed us beautifully twice. We ate Friday night van cooked fish and chips while watching the sun set over neighbouring Barra. A lovely wee dug called Gary adopted us.
It was like being welcomed home while experiencing a new place all at once.
They say that laughter is the best medicine – they don’t lie, just under sell it. Its chocolate, laughter and time spent with friends. Time where others to help organise, shop, cook, make decisions etc. It’s a revelation to me and I’ve decided every time I travel from now on, I’m taking two wives with me.
It’s important to have friends who are proud of you when you get a new job, learn a new skill or do big things.
It is equally important to have friends who are proud of you when you get out of bed and take a shower. Who realise relaxation and self-care is essential. Who are comfortable sitting quietly reading with endless cups of tea but know exactly the right moment to crack open the bottle of wine and chuck on some tunes.
Who make me realise I can no longer pour from an empty cup – and it’s okay take care of yourself first.
