Picked up at Edinburgh Airport by Mark Flannigan and Gump of Herb Recordings.
Campsite at Loch Lomond; first night in Scotland.
Sunset at Loch Lomond, complete with cloud in the shape of the UK...or a diving shore bird.
Jason, Gump and myself right before starting a sorry excuse for a campfire.
On the train from Ayr to Glasgow. Apparently, it is green here.
Mark seeing into the future...or possibly just spacing out for a moment.
On the train from Glasgow to Edinburgh. Apparently, it is green here as well.
The main hall at the Edinburgh Museum. Modeled after that wily ol’ Crystal Palace.
Exhibition hall in the museum, largely consisting of dead rich people’s things.
New museum addition devoted to Scottish history.
People whirling about in the museum. Nothing creates a frenzy like cases of old relics.
Architecture that reminds me of having too many mismatched building blocks.
An important governmental building, with cars and humans and things in foreground.
The Edinburgh castle, complete with reflections from the double decker bus windows.
The Forth, doing what it does best : being broodingly Scottish.
Aberdeen. Note sign that says “To Let”. This apparently means “To Lease”, not “To Allow”.
A garden entrance in Aberdeen. It became apparent that each city has its own granite color.
An abbey in Aberdeen (Abbeyerdeen?).
An imposing photo of said abbey. Faith by intimidation.
Me, with lovely maiden and castle. I’d waited years for this combination.
Dunnottar Castle, south of Stonehaven.
Dunnottar Castle, continued. Note wee silhouettes of people for proper scale.
Sure, it’s beautiful, but Medieval people probably tossed their waste in that gully.
An insurmountable wall of Dunnottar. I quickly gave up on my impromptu siege.
At the top of Dunnottar. Children looking at sign later threatened me with a fake sword.
Anjuli looking out over Loch Ness.
Me foolishly turning my back on Loch Ness.
The Highlands, on the way to the Isle of Skye.
Highland kissing. Nothing says romance like perpetual overcast and drizzling weather.
Morning in Skye, after an incredibly rainy night that left even my bones sodden.
Armadale Castle on Skye. Ancestral home of the MacDonald family. A bit ruined, though.
Armadale again, with gardens in background (see forthcoming images).
Being in Scotland really helped me get back to my roots.
...at the base of a massive Fir tree.
Sometimes it helps to put things in perspective.
My favorite photo of Ani. It’s the green....and the babe-ness.
Attempting to communicate with a giant Red Cedar. All it did was bark at me.
Looking very excited by a new discovery...
...the self-named “Lettuce Lichen”.
Anjuli going out on a limb...
...of a beautiful, hypnotic Cypress tree.
Inside the old Armadale laundry house. They had marvelous fabric softener.
Ani at a Scottish monument, where we learned the subtleties of Roman numerals.
On a boardwalk, being very pleased with the thumping of my boots after too much driving.
A vertical impression of the Highlands. Note our speck of a car on the lower right.
We discover that it is wet in Scotland, and green.
The ever present Scottish granite, which is often wet, and green.
In some small English town on the way to the Moors. I believe we peed here, then left.
Ani on the Moors, before heading down to Camphill Botton, and after talking to sheep.
We took turns in photos. There was never anyone around to take photos for us, aside from sheep.
A perfect camping spot on the Moors, overlooking Botton, near Danby.
At the standing stones of Avebury, before heading to Bristol.
Some stones weigh up to 100 tons; dwarfing those of Stonehenge.
Half of the stones are underground, serving as a foundation.
We opted for Avebury since Stonehenge is allegedly now roped off to the public.
Smaller concrete monoliths were used as placeholders for lost stones
Large earthworks, which can be seen on the far right, were also part of the Avebury site.
Even the skies here were surreal.
A grove of four Beech trees, which were a shrine for local pagans (see writing on bark).
Walking out into an Avebury field...
...to touch our first crop circle.
There were a group of people in the center (you can see their heads) chanting incantations.
A very English pub. Probably where the pagans went after a good spell of chanting.
After stopping in Bristol, Ani’s aunt Yasmin offered to take us to Bath.
Ani and Yasmin in front of the Bath square.
The original hot springs, claimed by Rome nearly 2000 years ago.
Just outside of Bath square.
The Bath Abbey.
Beautiful ceiling details reminded me of organic growth patterns.
The Bath Abbey organ. First time I was given vertigo by a musical instrument.
Anjuli on the London Tube, looking askance at a shirt that said “Eat Dirt”.
The London Natural History Museum. Every detail was a different form of life.
...as exhibited by the gargoyles.
The main hall of the Natural History Museum. Each set of ceiling tiles were a different tree.
The theme of giant trees continues in England, this time with an old Chestnut.
A lake in a London park, which was oddly square.
On our way downtown, Ani and I found ourselves watching an Indian dance routine.
...but as good as they were, Ani knew she could dance their asses off.
An interesting but emotionally empty sculpture in the London financial district.
St. Paul’s Cathedral. It looks like it’s out of focus because it’s shrouded in the Holy Ghost.
After I returned home, Ani headed off to Switzerland to visit the Goetheanum.
...a Swiss national monument designed by Rudolf Steiner, and named after Goethe.
...the home of Anthroposophy (Camphill communities, Waldorf education, etc).
A grand day to thee.
 
From July 28th to August 10th of 2007, I experienced one of the best vacations in some of the most beautiful locales that I have ever encountered.  Starting in Edinburgh and ending in London, I saw a majority of the UK over the course of two excellent weeks.  Aye, there were some difficulties, such as adjusting to the language of my Scottish friends (which later turned out to be English), getting a not-quite-crash-course lesson in left-side driving, and unsuccessfully thwarting the blood-sucking attacks of microscopic midges (which I’d still gladly trade for mosquitos), but overall, the jaunt across the pond will forever remain a very fond memory.  Many, many thanks to all those that made it possible.
      
  - Evan