Familiar animals

My brother, his wife and my adorable two nieces, Emma and Anja, have arrived in Scotland. They form part of an apparent tsunami of South Africans with young kids who've come to see whether the grass is in fact greener on this side of the ocean. So far, they have not been disappointed.

The first week was spent in shell shock due to the cold climate and being squeezed into our humble Kelty abode. Another shock is how little their South African rands are worth, sjym, we look at something costing £7 and say 'That's cheap!' and their internal calculators go whizzz...brrrr...times14...THAT'S BLOODY EXPENSIVE! Maybe Christmas is not the best time of year to emigrate, but I think they've noticed and will never do it again.

The kids adore the parks. In Aberdour, which has a state-of-the-art kid's playpark, Emma declared it to be the best park ever, and they did not want to leave. Until we walked around the stunning Loch Ore and they discovered the playpark there, with a foefie slide! Anja declared that Scottish parks are much better than South Africa's - hear-hear!

No snow yet, but a round trip through the Cairngorm Mountains and Speyside made up for the disappointment. I love watching their reactions when seeing the fantastic scenery for the first time: the view of the bridges over the Firth of Forth; the sight of Edinburgh from the tiny road above Burntisland; the achingly green fields of Fife and, of course, the mountains.
Returning from our trip, my brother said: Do you realise we've seen half of Scotland in one day? Yep, so much to see in such a small space.

BEFORE

AFTER

Friends in Fife

I have been living in Fife now since March 2007, and I am still bowled over by the incredible friendliness of our neighbours and fellow Fifers. The first thing I noticed when we arrived here is that people actually greet you: in the shops, on your way to work, the postman as he delivers letters. In England I got used to being greeted by a middle finger on the road, or the most you got from fellow travellers on the trains/tube was an angry scowl or shove if you did something out of the ordinary. Initially I was a bit suspicious of this general goodwill - what's wrong with these people? Are they trying to sell me something or convert me to something? - but I've since come to accept this as just another good reason for living in Scotland.

As this news will bring a warm glow to the hearts and minds of my dear readers, I've decided to add just two more stories to remind of you of the extreme niceness of this place:

Story 1:
I arrived home on Monday to find two Christmas cards from different sets of neighbours, both welcoming us into the neighbourhood, and to have a happy Christmas.

Story 2:
The guy who sold us our new car phoned this morning to tell us he will drop off the extra set of keys at our place this afternoon.

A warm welcome, indeed.

The weather

How you experience the weather here in Scotland depends on your point of view.

This time of year, the sun (the wha'??!!!) rises at 8am and it looks like this:


It sets at 4pm, and looks like this:



So yes, all ye who warned of the darkness and bad BAD Scottish weather, it is dark, often. And wet, and cold. Seriously cold. I rush from the heat of our house straight into the car, which needs a few minutes' worth of idling in order to warm up. This time is used to scrape the frost from the windscreen. At work I rush into the warm classroom, where I'll stay most of the day.
If it is a sunny day (ha-ha!), the air is crisp and stark with cold. If it's raining, there isn't much to see and the day is wrapped in a gloomy blanket.
Therefore, if my preference had been for hot, endless days filled to the brim with sunshine and salad, then no, this weather would suck.

Luckily I love stew and soup. And snuggling, lots of it, under a tartan blankie next to a cosy fire with a book.