Wednesday, January 18, 2012

{part 6}

Summer 78 (instrumental) by Yann Tiersen on Grooveshark
{parts 12345}
we woke on day five in the little pub b&b in nairn. we were exhausted--sleeping over a bar on a saturday night, though our only option, wasn't a great idea. the music, the voices. it's like when you're five and your parents have company but you have to go to bed at 8 still. you don't fall asleep til everyone's gone home. there's something strange about travelling though, about how you can be jet-lagged and sleepless and walk a million miles in the pouring rain and yet as soon as you wake up after a half-sleep, remember where you are and what you're doing, you are un-phased. travelling makes you invincible.


we headed downstairs for the brekkie part of the bed & breakfast.


because it was sunday morning, the first, last, only train out of nairn that day would be the one at 11:50 am. so we headed to the beach.



where i'm from, water is something you only see in taps. in your glass at the dinner table. in a puddle on the street, or in the ditch in the spring. we don't have seas. because of that, i could stand on a beach for hours, just looking at the fantastic amount of water, all in one place, all stretching out and breaking apart and falling back into itself, seamless, edgeless, full of things. life. plants and fish and sharks and deep dark, unexplored places. it's one of those things that people get used to, for sure, but how?


anyway. we used the beach all morning. sat on it. ran across it. walked around it. threw things from it. took pictures of it. and then we wound our way back through nairn, back up side streets and back roads and cobblestones, back to the wee locked-up station, and had a little church service on the deserted train platform.