Day 9: Aberdeen to Glenlivet
Rob had gotten the rhythm of driving down and we enjoyed our day touring Scotch Whiskey country. After having built up an appetite at a local distillery, we headed to the nearest village called Dufftown to find a restaurant. We weren't sure where to go, so we popped into a visitor information center to ask.
An elderly lady staffed the table at the visitor center and she was eager to engage in conversation. We told her we were from Arizona. "Ah, yes! Americans. I thought so. I picked something up with how you talk." We smiled, "Yes. We are from the states." She started talking about a Trump International golf course not too far away. Rob and I smiled sheepishly and then trailing off, "Yes, well..." "No bother" she continued, "Ours are the same. Our politicians are the same. I suppose they are all the same. Oh well. I do believe you will enjoy the pub down the way, I can't think of anything else that's open."
They're all the same? I wonder. Maybe they are and most are better at keeping their internal thoughts, well, internal. Just something to think about. We did enjoy the pub.
Later on we checked into our adorable country cottage and the hostess told us about a scenic hike not too far away. We laced up our boots and headed to the mountain she described. It was a rapid ascent through sheep gates to the circular path at the summit. The trek treated us with dense forest on our right and views of the surrounding countryside on our left. I noticed the space under the think forest wall. The dropped pine needles formed a bed beneath the pine trees that could be seen several feet back until the darkness took over. I told Rob that I wanted to take a picture so I could remember the fairytale-like setting and to have a visual to use for when I dream of running away and escaping my daily life. The quiet, dark softness of Mother Earth herself.
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