Today was... bleakety-bleak with a bad case of fog...The highlands are so gloomy, in fact, that for a good 3-4 hours I did not see a single sheep. Shocking, all things considered.
2 hours ferry + 10 hours bus = A whole lot of time to think thoughtful thoughts whilst listening to 'kill yourself' music (...there's a good chance I will never listen to Radiohead or Simon & Garfunkel ever again. I have quite reached my limit). So, as my pictures are basically all of fog from a bus window (with the very tiny exception of our visit to Loch Ness!...the sun came out, no classmate sacrificing necessary! My Nessie 
Net was too small, however, to catch anything of value...sad day), I will proceed with an outline of the things that floated through my brain...
Net was too small, however, to catch anything of value...sad day), I will proceed with an outline of the things that floated through my brain...I. Things I am 'Jones-ing' Pretty Badly For
A. A belt and a sweatshirt
i. I really need a belt due to the multi-wear jeans cycle combined with the long hiking excursion weight loss factor.
ii. I really need a sweatshirt due to the fact that it's freezing bollocks everywhere I go, it seems. And also i've hiked off all of my 'extra insulation.' Bummer.
B. Chicken Fajitas
i. Or any kind of American bird, for that matter. Apparently they don't exist on the isle. I have tried telling several people that sheep do not have wings, and are not an allowable substitute. No one's listening.
C. Sonic.
D. Something to eat besides cheese and bread.
E. A real shower, a.k.a. non-shower-tub scenario.
F. Tennis. All of these amazing-looking courts around, but no chance to play. What a tease.
G. World Peace...?
II. Mom, you will be terribly proud of me
A. As I was shuffling through my suitcase this morning, I found a little something I forgot i'd packed... my "Rape Whistle"! Which thankfully, I have not had to use, as it has been swimming through my suitcase for 9 days. I felt like blowing it really loud at the docks, as it sounds so nautical, but I resisted (I am nobody's Peter & the Wolf).
III. The Toast Caddy
A. I was greeted at the breakfast table this morning by an unfamiliar contraption. It was a little metal gadget with all of these slots in... I tried asking it what it was, but I didn't get a response...fortunately, the waitress popped by seconds later shoving all of this fresh toast into it! Not only fresh toast, but fresh toast CUT INTO TRIANGLES. Like moms do the world over. Geniuses, these Brits... Had to suppress the urge to say "Cracking toast, Gromit!" (<-if this is confusing to you, please refer to the Wallace & Gromit shorts, in particular "The Wrong Trousers." You can thank me later.)
IV. Why the Scots are historically a rebellious people.
A. I have decoded the myth of the Scots firsthand, without any solid academic research needed. If I was stuck in the highlands with a stone closet for a home, trying to fish in the North Sea in the freezing cold and rain, with only a loin-y cloth contraption to cover my addendas, I would very likely go mad, too.
V. Definition of Tourist Trap
A. I finally found the holy grail of tourist traps. I wish I could remember where we were (Post Scotland Update: We were at Bettyhill...also known as Lucifer's Lair...), but suffice it to say we were in a little town in backwoods Scotland (seriously...it's no wonder the sheep got the hell out...I could almost hear banjos playing in the distance). We went to some awful little museum (Awful) where this WAY overenthusiastic docent (probably named Hamish, the U.S. equivalent of "Bubba") released all of the pent up tour giving urges he's had to suppress for 30+ years because no one dares wander close to his little museum of horrors. Dr. Palmer tried to politely excuse us, but the guide would have none of it. Eventually all of us just starting walking away...like little blind salamanders trying to feel their way out of the cave... very amusing, actually. B. After getting ourselves 'un-trapped' (or so we thought), we wandered over to the building next door marked "Tourist Information," which in any normal part of the world also means "public restroom"....but not in the Highlands! Turns out it was someone's home, and they were running a "cafe" out of it. They also happened to have the only toilet within a good 15 mile radius which they were well aware of, and exploited (pretty intelligent despite possible inbreeding)...as I was trying to walk into the restroom, 'Angus' walks over and says "yew hav' to buy somethin' firs' before you kin' use the toilet"...So I looked him dead in the eyes, and said, "Well it looks like i'll be popping a squat in your garden, then." Or I would have, had my brain not been so focused on the prize. I bought a water.
Tomorrow is a Free Day... thank you baby Jeebus for that! One more second on that bus, and I would willingly check myself in to the "Loon's Reserve." Right across from Twatt Cathedral...(which will never get old).
I am told we are in Braveheart as well as Harry Potter country, so it is quite possible my nerd flag will be flying high tomorrow! Skipping the pictures until I have something entertaining to upload... use your imagination and picture fog, fog, foggity fog, cold, rain, and a sliver of sun on Nessie's lair, and you will get the idea.
Sleeping Well Because My Heater Works, and Not Setting My Alarm Clock,
Ashley
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