Jul. 11th, 2010

eilidhsd: (Default)
She is from California of all places, and her voice carried clearly above the wind and the rain yesterday afternoon: "Where's the loo?"

She is a realist, really. She was stuck without whimpering in a filthy trench in what passes for a Scottish summer, with the rain battering down and the ground underneath so badly waterlogged that the peat tries to suck off your boots every step you take.  The peat has protected this valley completely for at least 3000 years -  there has not even been a rabbit through it - but it has not allowed a single bush or  tree to grow either. The hillside is completely open. She was really just asking for vague directions.

Kneeling in a trench for six or seven hours is murder on your back and knees, the work is filthy, the climate is appalling, but I am starting to suspect that the lack of facilities is what puts people off.
And I am starting to dream of a shower block. Not just a loo, but a shower block. With walls and doors, and hot water, and soap and towels. And a hot tub. I can picture it vividly as I trudge exhausted up the hill, squelching up through the peat, mud caked in my hair, and everything hurting, a jacuzzi, with a little floating tray for a glass or two of wine and some nibbles, right there on the valley floor. Just there. Where the trenches are.


eilidhsd: (Default)

July 2011

171819202122 23

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 21st, 2017 06:58 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios