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ashetlandpony25 September 1989
Not much to say about today. The time had finally come for me to leave the West, start making my way back to England, and thence to the US. I was sad, but at least I had the hope that I'd be returning to Scotland in the not-too-distant future as a doctoral student, and might eventually be able to make the Western Highlands my home.
Panorama of Glen Coe from Altnafeadh, Argyll, Scotland, 25 September 1989. Photo ©J Scott Shannon. The view today.
I must have been lost in my thoughts again, because I can recall nothing of the drive back to Glasgow except the amazing vistas of Glen Coe.
Glen Coe from An Torr, 25 September 1989. Photo by J Scott Shannon. The view today.
View west towards the Three Sisters, Glen Coe, Argyll, Scotland, 25 September 1989. The view today.
Buachaille Etive Mòr, Glen Coe, Argyll, Scotland, 25 September 1989. The view today.
Dropped off my rental at Europcar in Glascow in the mid-afternoon. I was sad to say goodbye to my trusty little Maestro. I'd driven it a total of 1,303 safe and carefree miles in Scotland over 8 days.
The rental office was closed for bank holiday, which complicated matters a bit. Had to hail a taxi with my bags out on the sidewalk, and ask the cabbie if he could recommend any hotels near the rail station, as I had made no reservation in advance. Friendly chap. Took me to Duncan's Hotel and dropped me off there.
After buying my rail ticket to Manchester and calling my mother's cousin there, though, I decided I couldn't stay at Duncan's. It was basically a slum hotel, really dirty, and the noise from the street below was unbelievable. So I moved over to the Blythswood, where I'd stayed when I arrived the week before.
I have no memory and made no notes of what I did that last night in Scotland, but I daresay I probably wasn't feeling too chipper.
Not much to say about today. The time had finally come for me to leave the West, start making my way back to England, and thence to the US. I was sad, but at least I had the hope that I'd be returning to Scotland in the not-too-distant future as a doctoral student, and might eventually be able to make the Western Highlands my home.
Panorama of Glen Coe from Altnafeadh, Argyll, Scotland, 25 September 1989. Photo ©J Scott Shannon. The view today.
I must have been lost in my thoughts again, because I can recall nothing of the drive back to Glasgow except the amazing vistas of Glen Coe.
Glen Coe from An Torr, 25 September 1989. Photo by J Scott Shannon. The view today.
View west towards the Three Sisters, Glen Coe, Argyll, Scotland, 25 September 1989. The view today.
Buachaille Etive Mòr, Glen Coe, Argyll, Scotland, 25 September 1989. The view today.
Dropped off my rental at Europcar in Glascow in the mid-afternoon. I was sad to say goodbye to my trusty little Maestro. I'd driven it a total of 1,303 safe and carefree miles in Scotland over 8 days.
The rental office was closed for bank holiday, which complicated matters a bit. Had to hail a taxi with my bags out on the sidewalk, and ask the cabbie if he could recommend any hotels near the rail station, as I had made no reservation in advance. Friendly chap. Took me to Duncan's Hotel and dropped me off there.
After buying my rail ticket to Manchester and calling my mother's cousin there, though, I decided I couldn't stay at Duncan's. It was basically a slum hotel, really dirty, and the noise from the street below was unbelievable. So I moved over to the Blythswood, where I'd stayed when I arrived the week before.
I have no memory and made no notes of what I did that last night in Scotland, but I daresay I probably wasn't feeling too chipper.
