Maybe an island isn’t such a good idea.

I’m here in Orkney – exactly 10 days after arriving in Scotland.  The last 12 hours were definitely the most taxing of my journey north.  Winding roads, aggressive drivers, high winds, driving rain, and the ferry.  I’ve never really been troubled by seasickness in the past, but by the time I’d had a spicy dinner, negotiated the cargo parking, and hit the high seas, the scene was set.  Oh dear.  It turns out that masks make the nausea worse.  In fact, everything makes the nausea worse.  The smell of the food cooking from the restaurant. The earbuds for the podcast that was supposed to distract me.  The scent of the hand soap.  The scent of the hand sanitizer that was supposed to banish the smell of hand soap.  The vestiges of cigarette smoke on the man standing near me.  I was just so thankful to get off the boat – is this going to happen every time I take the ferry?

I thought that was the worst of my journey over.  Wrong.  It was now pitch dark and I had a 30 minute drive through the countryside with a trail of locals wanting to get home following behind.  And they drive fast.  I was doing fine until we got to the road works.  It was on the detour that the guy behind me finally got fed up and raced around me and went on his way.  Oh well.  Stuff happens.  Made it to the hotel, safe, if not quite sound. 

In retrospect, the thing that was most disappointing was that my malaise meant I couldn’t really appreciate the group of musicians who played and sang folk tunes the whole crossing.  Guitars, a fiddle, even a mandolin I think.  It was lovely and should have been such a welcome for me to my new home. 

Now I’m dreading future trips off the island.  Hmm.

But – I did wake up to this view the next morning.