Scottish rain - it’s not purple.

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Mist rolled in from the sea yesterday morning and hid the bonny lough under its swirling. It settled like a thick cloud on the waters and then more mist tumbled down from the hills obliterating them from my view. Within minutes the blue sky returned and the waters sparkled. Then we set out on the road home and the week of good weather finally broke. As soon as we got off the ferry at Onich (after the 3 minute voyage from Ardgour) a misery of stern, Scottish rain descended on us. It was comprehensive and businesslike in its falling, straight and Presbyterian in nature and measured. It chastised us all the way through Glencoe and down the full length of Lough Lomond as far as Balloch which I inadvertently referred to as Bollock and was reprimanded. We stayed in that place for the night and left for Cairnryan early this morning. As we set out the low-hung sun glared straight at me through a wet and dirty windscreen and a fuzz of mist that destroyed visibility yet I drove on. I motored through Glasgow without being able to decipher road signs. Somehow we made it to Cairnryan, got on the ferry to Ireland and now we are home.