Halloween

I’m writing this entry on my laptop as I sit in my room in my holiday apartment. I’m currently on holiday on the west coast of Scotland, 16 miles from Oban on a place called Melfort. I have no internet access and no mobile phone access. The fact that I cannot be contacted is liberating. I don’t think anyone would really want or need to contact me this week anyway.

The weather has been pretty extreme. Yesterday the wind was strong and the rain was heavy. The road was full of fallen branches this morning. From the window of the house you can get a great view of the Loch. The water is rough, tempestuous.

I have been doing as little as possible. I have done some walking. I went for a short swim yesterday. I had a massage this morning. My only concern just now is the avoidance of all concerns. There is time enough in life for thinking.

Many of the places around here are very desolate at this time of year (today is Halloween). Yesterday we visited a place called ‘crow haven’. I am sorry that I have not used the correct Gaelic spelling. It is a small port and marina. Very quiet and under populated. It reminded me of a Nick Cave song from the Murder Ballads album. Cold and lonely. We went to a pub called the Lord of the Isles for lunch. It was quiet, with only two other paying customers and the barman. The most dominant sound was the voice of an upper-class old Englishman as he discussed crossword puzzles. I liked watching the sea against the grey sky. Yesterday was a dull day, in terms of weather and colour.

Today we visited Crinan. We ate lunch in the hotel at the mouth of the canal. The hotel was cold and windswept. The staff was reminiscent of the Adams family (although there was one very attractive waitress). The food was overpriced. A rich Norwegian couple sat at the table across from us. As they spoke they switched languages, mixing English, French and Norwegian. They were in Scotland to shoot pheasants.

I’ve been reading a bit while I’m here and catching up on my CD listening. I’m working my way through the works of Lou Barlow at the moment. Sebadoh III is on the stereo as I write. The music is mournful. It fits the countryside.

You could read this entry and think that I don’t like this part of the world. That would be wrong. I love it. The landscape of the West Coast of Scotland is important to me because it reminds me how small and insignificant man is. No matter what happens in my life these rocks will always remain.