When I flew from Malta to Scotland, I went from shorts to a puffer jacket in 12 hours. It was sunny and warm when i left Malta at 8:00am and rainy and 50 degrees when I finally arrived in Edinburgh at 8:00pm, after delayed and rescheduled flights.
In spite of the difference in climate, Malta and Scotland are similar in many ways. Both are small countries with mountainous landscapes, long histories, interesting architecture, and warm people. Both are easy to navigate without a car, and both are incredibly safe for solo female travelers.
But while each is magical in its own way, only one spoke to my heart.
I found Malta fascinating. I fell in love with Scotland. Its glorious rivers and lochs, its mountains, its green hills strewn with sheep. Its bloody and courageous history. The Scottish wry sense of humor.
I surprised myself by thinking “I could live here.”
My daughters will tell you that I say that almost everywhere I go. I find something to love in every country. (Although I loved Iceland, I didn’t say I could live there, by the way.)
But there was something that spoke to me in the Highlands. Something that made me feel like I had come home.
What makes one place fascinating intellectually, but another elicit an emotional response? Why is it there are some places we visit, and some we carry with us long after we leave? I’m not sure I know the answer to that. Maybe I’ll figure it out one day.
Until then, I’ll just enjoy the journey.
