On our last morning in Scotland we made our own porridge. It was a sombre affair heating up the oats and quietly stirring them together. The hours we had left in our gorgeous B&B was drawing to an end, and by extension, so was our holiday. We washed up the bowls, packed our bags and dropped the key through the letterbox. No turning back the clock now.
We did another museum, another bookshop and another bespoke cafe. It was like playing out greatest holiday hits. We rounded it off with a visit to a nearby pub for the last lunch of haggis - somehow we avoided it until now and any trip to Scotland wouldn't be complete without eating some. We boarded the tram to the airport and a few hours later we were back home. As lovely as it is to be back, it's always a bittersweet feeling. Back to the real world tomorrow (a reality that's hitting Rebecca harder than me presently). Lots of fond memories made while we were out there though and extremely vindicating to have finally made the trip after Covid made it so difficult.
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