We went to Scotland for the weekend last week and it turned out to be a strange time for me, a time of realities.
We have a property in Argyll which we bought for a modest sum a few years ago. It has been our little retreat, our hideaway from the world. We haven't been since, well, September time and we needed to sort out some business affairs while there this time. Campbeltown is a long way away. Its a huge haul around Glasgow, so we decided to take the scenic trip on the ferry to Arran and then over the other side. The weather was good and the experience of a wheelchair on a ferry was interesting. Id say it was awkward but not prohibitive. The ferry was full of people out for the day weekenders; cyclists, walkers and golfers in particular. Arran itself is fabulously beautiful, infact its Scotland in microcosm. And as we drove through the island we passed wave upon wave of walkers out enjoying the best that Scotland has to offer. I felt overwhelmingly sad to see them. Arran is not built for wheelchair's, and that hurts. A lot.
When we arrived in Campbeltown we were staying with a friend, the thing is I just cant get into our place, and never will again, so its sitting empty. We generally just mooched around, enjoying the scenery, that 'Balamory' feeling and chilling out. We bought a large amount of alcohol, ie a big bottle of Pimms and settled down for a cosy evening.
I don't know what came over me, I just felt tremendously upset ever since Arran, and maybe a little sorry for myself. I drank too much Pimms and burst into tears. I cried my soul out, big heavy tears of despair. Huge sobs of sadness and pain. All the sorrow, anger and frustration and just general agony of the last few months. It all came flooding out. And mostly I feel injustice and that really really hurts me the most. This situation is not just and I feel so angry at it all. "I miss walking" I whispered between huge racking waves of sorrow, but what I really miss is the opportunity of walking. What I miss is the fact that you can walk along a road and just spot something in a hedgerow you wouldn't normally see. Maybe a flower, a bird or a mouse. Maybe not. Perhaps its the smell of grass or wild flowers. Or walking along a beach you find so many things, lots of bits I could show my son. The salt on your lips, the sand in your shoes that takes a week to vanish and the sand stuck in your hair. This is what I am mourning, its all about having the chance or the opportunity and that's something I don't have.
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