I’m not great at surprises. Unless the stakes are very high I get overly excited and tend to reveal my plans earlier than planned. This was the case for Chris’ birthday, where he knew that we were going to Oban well over a month ahead of time. Nevertheless, the specific details remained a mystery until that fateful Saturday morning in July, when I ushered us both to Waverley station. Bag in hand we settled onto the train chatting our way to Glasgow, pleasantly surprised at how peaceful the normally quite busy train was. We had a quick 20-minute stop, thankfully plenty of time to run to Tantrum doughnuts and pick up a respectable three for the road, before parking ourselves for the 3-hour train to Oban. The train ride was beautiful and the scenery we passed along the way was truly a prime example of some seriously stunning Scottish real estate. From glen to glen we journeyed our way through the west of Scotland, the windows opened to reveal the sound of the wheels turning along the railroad. We stayed in the Perle hotel thanks to a great recommendation from a friend of mine and it did not disappoint. We had a wonderful view overlooking the sea, and the hotel itself was beautiful and friendly. We quickly dropped our bags and set out to enjoy the practically obscene heatwave that Scotland is finding itself in. We wandered along the pier and up to McCaig’s tower, where we were greeted with unobstructed views right out to the Atlantic islands. Sunburns fully acquired, we walked back to our hotel to catch some of the world cup because apparently, we have completely assimilated. We had dinner in the hotel, lingering for a solid 3 hours before we managed to peel our very full selves off our chairs. First thing the next day, I woke up early and pulled a chair up to the window to watch the ferries come in and out of the terminal, as the sunlight grew brighter on the Isle of Mull looking back at me. It was as peaceful as it sounds. The day properly started with a very respectable hotel breakfast buffet, followed by a wonderful walk along the pier to the war memorial. There we sat on a bench and looked out over the rocky shore and into the waters beyond. There, looking out over the islands and hearing the Atlantic brush up against the rocks, it felt truly peaceful in our adoptive home. Following our tranquil soul-searching moment, we ambled back to the hotel for tea and cake and a good half a dozen games of snakes and ladders as we awaited our scheduled departure. Our time in Oban drew to a close and just as the rain began to fall, we found ourselves nestled back onto the train, once again admiring the vistas as we glided through the glens.
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