After leaving the great Isle of Skye, we wandered East across many winding roads to the old Pictish capital of the highlands, Inverness, the city on the River Ness, whose teat flows straight from Ole Nessie herself. The night we spent there was a night spent recovering from the wild drinking that defined our last night on Skye. Nothing much happened, but we did drive to Loch Ness in the afternoon. And I DID swim with Nessie in the Loch.
Like that girl who got away: just because you don’t see her, doesn’t mean she’s not there with you.
The next day we drove to Aberdeen, the old port city on the North Sea. We stopped for lunch in a beautiful burgh called Huntly, with its prestigious ruined castle from a more romantic age. Huntly was cool, but as my dad was quick to point out, there weren’t enough pubs. Aberdeen would quickly come to the rescue, though. There were more bars in that city than a body could put itself through in a hundred days. We tried our best to hit a few, including a weird church that had been converted into a Satanist bar. We didn’t stay there, though. I didn’t like the musty smell.
All I can record of Aberdeen is this:
Vere innumeris tabernis…
Truly countless taverns…
Bình luận