Thursday, July 25, 2013

getting there.

Early on a Sunday morning, we found ourselves on a deserted street in a suburb of Glasgow, Scotland, waiting for a bus we weren't sure was actually coming. The minutes ticked on past the time the bus was supposed to arrive, and we decided to walk the few blocks back to the train station, take a train back to Glasgow or maybe Edinburgh, and hopefully find a train that would take us near where we were trying to go. As we reached the top of a hill, a bus appeared in the distance. We couldn't make out the lit up route number and squinted as it got closer. Sure enough, it was our bus. We ran back downhill, waving our arms until the bus slowed down. We threw our bags in the luggage area and found a seat, out of breath and almost laughing, saying "I can't believe it came."

That's the thing that amazed me so many times on this trip - that trains pulled into the station on time, that busses that seemed like they would never arrive eventually did. That we somehow always made it from point A to point B. 

Except this time, getting from Edinburgh to the Isle of Skye was so much more than just getting from point A to point B. It was a journey that got more and more breathtakingly beautiful as the hours passed. When I thought the view out the window could not possibly get better, we came upon an even more incredible vista. 

In reality, pretty much all we did that day was sit, but by the time we arrived that evening at our bed and breakfast on the Isle of Skye it felt like we had accomplished something. The day I had been most nervous about had happened, and the journey was not only fairly smooth but more beautiful than I could have imagined. But getting to the semi-remote area of the island was much less an accomplishment of our own as it was the result of the kindness of strangers, like the wonderful b&b owner who picked us up at the bus station and drove us to our new home for the next four days. 

We had arrived on Skye, and it was like the beginning of a dream. 

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