Friday, September 01, 2006

Bus Blight and Inverness

I seemed to have terrible luck with buses for two days in a row. Wednesday, I crawled out of Eilidh's flat at the bright and early hour of 10:15 am, to take the bus to Inverness. This had nothing to do with supper the night before, where I had only two glasses of wine, and more to do with needing 8 hours of sleep a night, which I can assure you, staying in hostels and strangers flats, never happens.

I caught the 10:45 bus to Inverness, but was informed by the bus driver that it was the long, boring route. The coastal route. "Oh, that sounds good to me!" I said chipperly, "I'm not in a rush to get anywhere!" And then she spoke too soon. The bus broke down three blocks away from the bus station, and we had to wait another hour for the next. And it really was the slow route, although I have to admit I do not regret being able to see all those neat little coastal towns that I would have missed, like MacDuff and Banff, but I do regret not having access to food or water or a bathroom for seven hours!

Inverness is nice, very busy during the day and absolutely dead once the shops close. Except, from 12 am on the hooligans roam the streets and absolutely scream in all the alleyways until they lose their voices - it takes about 4 hours. I'm sure they must nurse their voices with wool scarves and honey water during the day, just to be ready that night for more screaming fits. Grrrrr... I used to think it was terribly age-ist and overly critical for Scottish and English towns to issue all those curfews and asbos and youth control measures. Now I understand completely. Lock 'em up if they're out past 12 am! Stupid teenagers.

Don't have many pics from Inverness, but the ones I have included are first, a statue of Flora MacDonald (I'll explain who she is to anyone who asks, but won't elaborate right now), and second, a view across the River Ness from Inverness Castle.

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