After
my birthday celebrations with my friends on Saturday night, I drove the rental
car to Steven’s on Sunday for an early start on Monday. EARLY. We left the house at 5:15 am. Getting around London is trying and it’s long; getting
through London, though shorter in distance, is even worse, being that forty
million people frequent the streets even as early as 7 am. So in leaving so early that this was
the ghostly scene through the streets of Clapham, we avoided all the traffic and
took advantage of shortcutting through the city. Winning.
The
six-hour journey was just beautiful: it was the England of my dreams. Languid, rolling hills, vibrant trees
dotting the landscape…it was great.
To see the sun rise to the east of us as we made our way through the
country was awesome. And might I
say that spending time with someone this fabulous was pretty awesome, too.
Imagine
our surprise when we actually entered Scotland! We thought this cottage was in England, just bordering
Scotland. Nope. Of course, there is no real division of
countries, unless you ask a Scottish person (or an English person, to be
fair). That distance north of the
city, however, certainly does get colder, more vast, and waaaay more beautiful.
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