Having just been to a favourite spot on the Ardnamurchan penninsula with the knowledge that I am soon to leave Scotland for a new life in Vietnam made the trip all the more poignant. It has always been a much-loved place, a perfect setting for wild camping on Achateny beach facing the rising peaks of Rhum; a swim in the cold and clear water, getting close to seals with a snow-capped Ben Nevis in the distance. It's full of memories of silly fire-lit nights with friends as I tumbled on the sand then later catching moments of peace and grace in the flicker of campfire flame.
We lit candles sometimes impossibly against the stiff breeze rushing in from the sea but with time and patience these tiny sentinels would create pockets of light spreading out across the sand as far as my inebriated focus would allow. Then, of course , waking up with fuzzy head to the chatter of oyster catchers and the strangely muffled sound of familiar voices translated, relocated from the city setting.
So when I leave there will be fondness for place but - and it is difficult to anticipate such things - I imagine more than the sights and sounds of the city, I will miss the shore, its sights and sounds and will seek as soon as I can, a new ocean to be beside.
