Surf and Turf

I can dimly remember a time when I lived in the hilly bit of Moray and a trip to Aberdeen a couple of times a year seemed like a Big Deal.
In fact seeing the sea was a wee bit of a big deal in itself. I even managed to work in Lossiemouth for a year without seeing much of it.
Well you can ditch that notion if you ever become involved with the denizens of the Northern Isles. I’ve never known a folk for not staying put, and demanding a fair degree of mobility from others to boot.
I know that I’ve been doing it for a while now, but I still can’t get used to all this surf and turf island hopping.
Since the last blog entry I zipped up from Orkney to Shetland for a couple of days, getting as far as Mid Yell before thinking it was time to head south again.
I got back to Inverness on Friday evening, which gave me a whole evening with the Viking Queen before having to drop her off at the airport on Saturday lunchtime for her flight up to the isles. Of course the Viking Queen hasn’t been able to catch up with her best pals because they have nipped out to Barcelona for a couple of days, where else?
I made the most of the weekend home alone by going walking with KK and Rowan in Torridon. I needed to get away from the sea and back into the hills I think.
Anyway, I’ve got the day off tomorrow to pick her highness up from the airport. Steaks are in the fridge along with the king prawns and wine.
I think we deserve a surf and turf welcome home dinner.