I looked at my watch, it was 1pm. The welcoming ceremony started at 3pm and we should arrive at the campsite by 2.30 pm, leaving us thirty minutes to set up our tent. I slipped off my thongs or as they call them in Scotland, flip flops, and replaced them with a pair of new hiking boots that I had picked up from a shop in Edinburgh the day before. I had a pair of three quarter length black activewear leggings on, my friend Carol back in Australia would be proud - she was the queen of active gear. I also had on a thermal underneath my windbreaker, and to top it off a woolly beanie with a pom pom on the top.
Scott looked over at me and said, “Very cute Letticia.” Cute wasn’t exactly the look I was going for and I had no idea what he meant by it. I choose to ignore the comment and not analyse it too much.
Scott decided to get out of his driving clothes and into his own walking gear. There was no one else in the car park at that moment, so Scott thought it was safe to get changed around the back of his Range Rover in private. I, obviously, was not allowed to see him. If I was back in my dream when we were both in Scotland, he wouldn’t have thought twice about stripping off in front of me. He would probably have even pulled me into the back of his Range Rover for a few minutes of some hot, steamy, passionate lovemaking.
But not today, today I was instructed to look the other way.
Once he was fully dressed, he emerged from behind his Range Rover wearing the exact same outfit he wore on our stakeout in the Scottlander dream.
“Aye, for the good old days,” Scott announced.
And so, there he was, wearing a pair of army pants and a black puffer jacket. “If it was good enough for a stakeout then it’s good enough for a treck,” Scott said.
“Well, that stake-out was in a dream, Scott. Wearing army pants, in reality, is a whole different story. They are so last decade,” I replied.
Scott looked a bit insulted. Luckily he did look rather good in them, however; they did really make his backside look even more toned and more irresistible than it already was. I decided I needed to lead otherwise there was no telling what my impulses might cause me to do following such an appetizing and tempting sight.
As we approached the start of the track, through a gate that was to lead us to the campsite and convention, Scott looked over at me and said warningly, “Right Las, you ready for this walk? Nobody gets to Sandwood Bay without disbursing some real effort first.”
“My effort is ready to be disbursed,” I teased.
We heard another car pull up. We turned around but couldn’t see the vehicle as we had just turned the first corner on the track, and bushes and trees now covered our vision of the car park. Had those trees and bushes not have been there we would have seen two P plates stuck on the vehicle, followed by two people driving into the last few car park spots available. We would have seen the two people hop out of the car and would have got the surprise of our lives to see Brysen and Bonnie, who were hot on our trail to find out what was going on with the two of us.
We carried on, oblivious to who was behind us as we took in the sights while we made our way along the well-worn track to Sandwood Bay.
Chapter Fifteen
A walk not to forget
We had been walking for a while and had yet to see another person on the track. We were either the stragglers and would be one of the last to arrive at the convention, or there were just not many people attending. However, thinking about how many cars were parked up at the Blairmore car park I decided that we were indeed the stragglers.
We were now coming up to the first loch we would be passing called Aisir Loch. The sight was breathtaking. I stopped, causing Scott to walk straight into the back of me. I was still leading to escape the pain of looking at the sight of Scott's backside and knowing it was out of bounds for me.
I stood there taking in the angelic view. Scott looked at the expression upon my face and said, “Welcome to Scotland, Letticia.”
The beauty of the Loch made me emotional. I knew at this very moment this was not a dream. This was reality. The loch was so overwhelming, with volumes and volumes of water surrounded by green lush Scottish land. It filled me with feelings of gratitude, happiness, fondness, and warmth. Feelings such as these were hard to come by in a dream.
Lush, love and excitement were the feelings I had while I was dreaming of my time in Scotland with Scott, but these feelings I had now were different, these feelings were even more overpowering. These feelings came from being in the present and taking in what Mother Nature has created.
Scott had seen lochs all his life. If it hadn’t been for me, he would have walked straight on past, but watching my reaction to the first loch we passed made Scott stop and also take in the view and appreciate what he was standing in front of.
“You know what Letticia, Lochs really are a sight to behold. I never really take the time to stop and appreciate them,” Scott said. I looked at him as the sun was slowly starting to set behind him. We still had a fair few more hours until it was fully set but at this very time, it shone upon Scott's head highlighting his natural red streaks.
I replied, “Everyone needs to slow down in this world Scott, and actually look what they have in front of their very own eyes and appreciate what they have.”
Of course, I was meaning me. For Scott to stop and look at me and appreciate what an amazing Sassenach I could be to him. I wasn’t sure if Scott realised what I was saying or if he decided to ignore it, by his reaction and comment that followed.
“Good point Letticia, right shall we continue? After you,” Scott said, signalling for me to lead the way. I decided I wanted some more angelic views of my own so insisted he went in the front.
“No, no after you Scott,” I replied.
“Very well, I shall lead the way for a bit then.”
Scott, oblivious to my intentions, lead us further along the track past two more lochs that were just as charming as the first.
Scott called out the names of them to me, “Here we have Loch Na Gainimh and Loch a’ Mhuilinn.”
As we walked alongside Loch a’ Mhuilinn we came across an outflow across the track. Stepping stones had been placed through it to help the walkers to try and keep their feet dry. Scott crossed first, showing off by doing a graceful over-the-top leap across the stones. I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of a man in army pants jumping across stepping stones so delicately.
He stopped once he reached the other side and looked over at me and said, “Your turn, lass.” I decided to mock him by copying his stepping stone crossing style. He started to laugh at my attempt. On the last stone, he put his hand out for me to grab to help me land safely on dry land. The last stepping stone was covered in moss and my foot landed on the edge of it, resulting in losing all control. Scott had my hand in his and he tried with all his might to stable me. I panicked and grabbed his hand even harder so that he had no way of releasing it from mine to stop himself from falling in my direction. I fell off the stepping stone, flat on my back into the overflow of the Mhuilinn a’ Loch, with Scott’s firm, toned body on top of me.
His face was only inches from my face. I could feel his cold breath teasing my frosty blue lips. I wanted his breath to warm my lips up so badly, but before I could even finish that thought Scott was up on his two feet with his hand out to help pull me back up and onto dry land. Our clothes were drenched which added to the drop in our body temperatures. We decided to carry on walking and hope we dry off soon rather than change into dry clothes. We had only packed two other outfits for our two-day stay at the campsite. We didn’t want to waste an outfit already.
We continued on in the hope of avoiding hypothermia. The track was now becoming a smaller path and after we walked up a slight rise, the cliffs on the coastline north to Cape Wrath come into view. The coastline looked wild but had a unique charm to it. I had been in love with Scotland in my head for so many years but actually being here in and amongst its natural beauty had put a whole new perspective on the place, and it exceeded my expectations
.
I pulled out my camera and took a photo of a view I never wanted to forget.
We came up to two old wooden gate posts and as we walked through them the path grew wider again. A few steps more and Sandwood Loch, a large freshwater loch, came into view with the ruins of an old house just to the right hand side. I stopped once again to appreciate what I was looking at, just as Scott came up behind me and whispered in my ear.
“You know people say a ghost of a shipwrecked mariner used to knock at the window of that house on stormy nights, ohhhhhhhhh,” he added for effect.
I looked at him and said, “Well, it's lucky I don’t believe in ghosts then isn’t it, Scott?”
“Really you don’t believe in ghosts? Come on Letticia, where is your sense of adventure?” Scott said.
“Right here Scott, along this path, taking us on a wild goose chase to some hickory pickery goddess make belief myth convention.”
I wasn’t sure what had come over me. I had told Scott I would keep an open mind for this weekend, and I was fully intending to do so. But from the very beginning, I had been looking for hard, scientific evidence of what I had experienced while lying in that hospital bed in a coma.
I knew this trip out to Sandwood bay to the Goddess convention was not just for me, but for Scott also. He wanted to find answers to our situation as much as I did but his choice in doing so was completely opposite to my idea of finding answers. But for the time being this was all that we had available to us, so I decided to go along with it until now. Until I let out my thoughts of frustrations while being wet, tired and hungry
“Well Letticia, I’m sorry you feel that way, but I am very spiritually minded, and I believe in things that you obviously don’t,” Scott said abruptly.
“I never said I don’t believe in it Scott, I have just never had an experience in my life that would make me think otherwise.”
Scott looked at me, confused. “Really? Well where do you think you have been for the last six months Letticia?” Scott asked, but had no intention on hearing my answer. Instead he carried on in front of me while I trailed behind like a little lost puppy dog with its tail between its legs.
The rest of the walk was in silence and an air of awkwardness fell around us.
We both knew we had over stepped the mark in discussing our beliefs. Had we been in a totally different situation then expressing one's belief would have been an opportunity for an educated and interesting discussion, however Scott and I had found ourselves in a situation where our realities and our perception on life had been challenged.
Everything we thought life was had been turned upside down in the last six months. Emotions were flying high and we were both, although we wouldn’t admit it, frightened to find out what had happened to us and why it happened to us. We were also frightened in the thought that we may never actually find out the answer.
Our clothes were still damp but were slowly drying, either by the slowly-setting sun that was only just still visible, or our body temperatures that had risen moments earlier in the heated argument that had left us in silence. I was starting to get tired. My fitness was still not back to its pre-coma stage and often I would find myself needing a nap in the afternoons in the last few weeks. Not today though, today I was following Scott on his journey to get answers.
The open mind I promised Scott I would have was now slowly closing. I felt the best place to get answers was with a neurologist at a hospital. I wasn't sure why my mind had all of a sudden closed to this idea of spiritual answers. Maybe it was because Scott was so sure this was where the answer was to be found. I, on the other hand, had my doubts.
We were approaching Sandwood Bay beach. I could smell the salty sea water from the rough Atlantic Ocean drifting up but was still unable to see a sea view. Scott wasn’t wrong when he described how Sandwood bay was going to be; a few days of wild and remote camping alongside fifty or so other campers who were attending the Celtic Goddess Convention. No running water, no toilet or shower blocks, no cooking facilities. It really was beyond me why they would hold such a convention in such a wild, uninhabited location. I would have expressed my feelings to Scott, but we were still not talking.
Scott suddenly stopped. He took off his backpack and placed it down on the ground beside him. “You need to eat something, Letticia. You need to keep your strength up.” I agreed and took off my backpack too and sat down beside Scott. He unwrapped a pack of sandwiches and handed me over one, and he ate the other one. We sat on the side of the track in silence as we refuelled our bodies with a soggy cheese and tomato sandwich and finished it off with a drink of water from my water bottle.
“Right, shall we continue?” Scott said.
“We shall,” I replied.
We were both still frustrated with one another but we knew being angry with each other was not going to solve any problems or give us the answers that we needed.
We continued for another twenty minutes until we came to a clearing and found ourselves on the edge of a cliff that looked down over Sandwood bay. There was so much beauty to take in with this one view. My eyes didn’t know which way to look. There were miles and miles of golden pinkish sand and dunes. Rocky cliffs and a giant sea stack finished off this snapshot that I wish I could frame and never forget just how beautiful Scotland really was.
I looked down to the left of the beach. I could see about thirty tents already pitched and several more being pitched by their owners in and amongst the bay’s largest dunes. Behind these dunes stretched the freshwater Sandwood Loch. Everywhere my eyes looked, nature’s beauty was present. It was a very overwhelming, stimulating, yet peaceful view. Your eyes are not gifted such pleasures every day, so I was taking every second of it in.
I looked over at Scott who had the same appreciative expression planted on his face. “This really is something, isn’t it Letticia?” Scott said.
“Please tell me I’m not dreaming because this view is out of this world,” I replied.
Scott leaned over and gave me one mighty big pinch on my arm. “Ouch, what did you do that for?” I asked.
“Well you can’t be dreaming then, can you?” Scott teased.
“I most certainly can’t be, that would quickly have woken me up,” I replied. It was nice to see Scott had come out of his moody state at last. I’m not sure anybody could stay moody with such a view in front of them.
“Aye lass, are you ready to make our way down to the campsite? I’m rather tired of holding this tent, I think it’s time we pitch it up and go find some answers.”
By this time I was feeling light headed and tired, I knew I had overdone it today and somebody in my condition and my stage of recovery shouldn’t have endured what I just had. Scott was aware of this also so had encouraged many stops along the way to rehydrate and re-energize myself.
Seeing Sandwood bay appear down below was not only a picturesque sight but also a sign of relief as I knew my body was not going to allow myself to walk much further. Because of my slow pace, we were arriving right at the time the welcoming ceremony was about to start. We would miss it if we were to pitch our tent now so instead, we went straight over to the sign in tent to find out where we had been assigned our campsite. We decided we would then drop all our camp gear off to that spot and pitch our tent later.
We arrived at a tent that had a rustic looking sign on a post saying. ‘Sign-in Tent’, and were welcomed by a middle-aged lady dressed in a woollen tartan Earasaid. She was sitting on a camp chair with a clipboard in hand marking off the attendees as they arrived.
“Guidefternuin” she said with a kind and inviting smile. I looked at Scott, confused. Scott looked back at me with that grin that made me weak at the knees.
“Good afternoon,” he said in more of an Australian accent to the woman, mainly just for my benefit in understanding the Scottish accent.
“Sorry we are late,” Scott said politely.
“Aye no problem, what are your names?” She asked.
“Scott Kin
g and Letticia Little,” Scott answered, to save me doing so. I was still trying to gather my breath from the walk I had just completed when really, I should have been resting in bed recovering.
“Well fancy that, we have two people on the list with the last name King,” the lady said, sounding intrigued.
“Well, King is a very popular last name,” Scott said, attempting to stop the investigation going any further. He didn’t have time for small talk.
“Yes, I guess it is,” she said, sounding less intrigued than before.
Once she found both our names and ticked us off with a big red mark beside each name, she proceeded to point us in the direction of our designated campsite.
“You two are on the very far side, on the edge of the camping grounds. Right up beside the cliffs to your left. Site number twenty-three., You are the second to last people to arrive so the vacant spot in that direction is yours,” she explained.
She then proceeded to tell us the locations of the long drops and the bonfire that was going to be lit for the entire weekend, where we could gather around, warm ourselves up and mingle with the other people attending. We could boil water for tea and cook food in the billys that were provided. We were also allowed to build our own little camp fire near our tent if we wanted, as long as we put it out before retiring to bed each night.
She then handed both of us a program for the next two days outlining the times of entertainment, workshops and private sessions for each different spiritual goddess. Scott and I were only interested in one workshop and to have only one private meeting with the presenter who was taking the workshop for the Caer Ibormeith, Celtic Goddess of Dreams.
“Aye, so how do we go about booking a private session with the person taking the Caer Ibormeith workshop?” Scott asked.
“You may book here with me, let me just get out the booking folder and see what we have available.” She rustled through mountains of paper that were piled high on her clipboard, hurrying along turning over each page until she found the booking form. She looked intimated by Scott, either because of the comment he’d made earlier about his name, or the fact Scott was just so darn hot.
Dreamlander Page 9
