Old Shoes - New Trip

I feel bad that these posts don't have any photos. But, the service in this part of Scotland is veerrryyy slow. Can't seem to handle much.

I'll just have to save the good stuff for when we get back, and I start re-living the trip.

Today we are hiking to the top of the top of Caringorm. Then we will take the ski lift down (our knees & ankles don't need the abuse.)

After that we are going to take a ride on the original Thomas Train. It seems the steam train based on Boat of Garten is the model for the children's books and tv series. Our grandsons will be so surprised when we bring back live video for them!

Brad commented on my entry from the other day with this little toast.

I love it, and thought I share it with all of you....along with our solemn promise to drink a toast to everyone who reads this and asks to be included.

Brad and Palma are first! :grin:

I drink to the health of another,
And the other I drink to is (s)he -
In the hope that (s)he drinks to another,
And the other (s)he drinks to is me!

I'm at the public library in Oban. They have free unlimited computer access. Like Portugal, they let you stay until someone new comes in and needs a computer. Then they take the person who has been on the longest off.

We have are mini laptop with us, but so far have not found any public wifi access. We're in a cottage in a little town south of Oban called Balvicar. It is on the Isle of Seil. The cottage is gloriously well equipped. Especially the kitchen. But there is no wifi, no broadband, no telephone.

Lots of daylight. Daylight until midnight. Daylight again at three am. Really cool.

Forgot my camera cable at the cottage. So I can't upload any pics at the moment. Just wanted to check in.

Off to have a seafood lunch. Yum.

Yesterday I was telling a friend about how much I'm looking forward to the fabulous Scottish seafood -- specifically langostino. We are only 7 days away from enjoying it for ourselves. My thoughts strayed to past great seafood meals.

I think there is no other food so meant to be enjoyed "at the source" as food from the ocean.

When we were in Muxia, Galicia, Spain, we experienced precebes (barnacles). The locals harvest them and rush them to the restaurants to be eaten that day. We spent the morning watching the harvesters and then enjoyed the fruits of their labor for lunch. The fresh sea taste is amazing.

Sitting in a seaside restaurant in in Gallipoli, Puglia (the heel of Italy) we watched our waiter go outside and call down to the fishermen who were mending nets on the pier below. A minute later a scooter pulled up to the door and the waiter carried a still dripping mesh bag full of my mussels in for the chef to turn them into this....

On the coast of Maine, the life cycle of a lobster dinner is short.

Here is the dock where the lobster boats store their traps between runs. The lobsters we were about to enjoy came in here and were delivered to the adjoining kitchen only minutes before they were on our tray.

Dan waits for his turn to pick up our order.

Bibs in place, dig in.

Ahhhhhhhh.....

Scotland, here we come. Our first stop will be here: Temple Seafood

How do you put a lock on the wide open spaces? And what are you locking in? Or out?

Five years ago, Dan and I took a big looping auto tour of Wyoming. We started in Jackson Hole, visited Yellowstone, the Grand Tetons, Cody before driving east to Devil's Tower and into the Dakotas.

We hadn't planned to dip south to Thermopolis at all. We had never even heard of Thermopolis. We had planned a northern route along highway 14 through Sheridan so we wouldn't have to use interstate until we got to Gillette.

As we were about to leave Cody, I glanced down at the map and saw the words:
"Legend Rock State Petroglyph Site". Intrigued by the petroglyphs and enticed by the thought of a hot springs, we detoured south to Thermopolis.

We stayed that night in the State Park Hotel; enjoyed the hot springs in the State Bath House. Next morning we presented ourselves at the towel check counter in the bath house to request "the key", for which we had to sign in blood and leave our first born as collateral. We were given directions to the site and told that once we were through the locked gate it would be another half-mile to the petroglyphs. Then we were admonished, in no uncertain terms, to lock the gate behind our car after we pulled through.

We really weren't sure what we were actually going to find. But we weren't expecting to have all of this completely to ourselves.

Without tour guides. Without stanchions and ropes to keep us at a safe distance. Without motion detector alarms. Without plexiglas. Without little discreet tags to tell us what we were looking at.

Just the two of us, the guests of the spirits of ancient artists' in whose outdoor gallery we were enjoying our own private showing.