Tea and Ping Pong

It’s raining today. I’m sitting in the “Library” of Carbisdale Castle Youth Hostel looking out the window watching the steady drizzle glaze the leaves. It looks very much like home here and I don’t say that just because of the rain, although that definitely adds to the resemblance. The hostel sits on the south side of a broad valley created by the tail end of a long finger of the North Sea. Just below us is where the saltwater from the east meets the river coming from the west. On all sides lie hills, darkened with forests of evergreen and dotted with pastures and timber clearings.

I took a walk into the nearby village yesterday, about four miles from here, and felt oddly at home. As I walked I noticed the woods were full of rhododendrons, dandelions, scotch broom (in its native habitat), maple, and raspberries. Moss covered rocks like thick blankets and cones from a spruce (?) laid dejectedly on the side of the road. The water I treaded alongside could have been any one of the inlets or coves of Puget Sound except for the vast number of swans cutting across its waters. Further along where the river rushes underneath Bonar Bridge, fisherman angled in hopes of landing a salmon or two.

Opposite me, on the other side of the valley, I could hear the bleating of sheep. The fierce and raspy barking of the herdsman pierced the stillness like thunder, his booming voice carrying over the water with ease. Somewhere along the perimeter of the great wooly mass, his commands fell on the pricked ears of an effective and efficient shepherd. I couldn’t make out the dog, only the shouts of his master and the effects of his work. Like a great white cloud, the flock slowly made their way down the hillside, constantly changing shape like clay on the potter’s wheel, molded by an unseen hand.

The reason we’re here in this rural and remote hostel in the north highlands is to decompress, relax, and for the students, prepare for their exam. Since I don’t have to study, I thought I’d prepare a study break tea time for them in the afternoon and that’s what prompted me to take the long walk into town--I needed tea and cookies. Unfortunately, the nearer town, Ardgay, has no shop so I continued trekking for another mile across the valley to Bonar Bridge arriving after an hour and forty minutes of walking. That’s life in the country without a car, I suppose. Luckily for me, the train heading north was passing through Ardgay just as I returned from Bonar Bridge, saving me the four mile trek back to the hostel. But the walk was worth it. Beautiful, peaceful, and in the end I had tea and cookies which were very much appreciated by the study weary students.

Following the exam last night a lazy day of reading, sleeping, and ping pong provided a near perfect close to a busy three weeks. And it's from this comfy couch in the library that I read, ready for the next course slated to begin in a couple of days. I'll keep you posted.