Many good stories nowadays start with “And then I was clicking through pictures on my old hard drive…” That’s how mine starts today, too. In 2008, a bunch of other excited young guys and me were hopping on a coach to Arbroath, Scotland. It was a great time, the ones of us that are still in touch love to share stories such as the one where we all got up at 4 am to jump into the sea (which we could see from our rooms). It was utterly cold, rainy and unforgettable (the good kind). Or the one where we took dancing lessons with some proper Scottish gentlemen who left their phone numbers with permanent markers on our arms.
So while I’ve been digging out all these photos and memories, a vague plan of my friend and me to go on a roadtrip as soon as we’re old enough for the UK to allow us to renting a car, suddenly gains a little more shape. Scotland is such a cozy, magic and beautiful spot that I clearly haven’t explored enough!
This was the house we stayed in, it fits around 80 people if I remember it correctly and has an awful lot of ridiculously charming and old-fashioned living rooms.
The worst photo I’ve taken quality-wise might well be the one that brings back the greatest memories. After crossing half of the country on a coach, we finally reached Dover in the early morning hours and watched how a new day started from a ferry, with the waves just a few metres under our immensely tired and overwhelmingly happy bodies.