Lochs and memories

We drove from Glasgow to Kilmun the long way around today, to the backing track of Scottish folk tunes.

As we got out of Glasgow I started feeling homesick; or, more accurately, at home. These lochs and hills are what I grew up with, and as we moved on they were the actual places I remember from when we lived here. We drove up Loch Lomond, over to Loch Fine, then down Loch Eck and, finally, to Holy Loch and Loch Long.

We are staying in a grand old house on the Holy Loch that is literally right beside the cemetery where we are to bury my parents’ ashes later this week.

So far everyone has been patient with Martin and I doing the ‘when I was a kid’ thing.