Oh dear...

what is the world coming to?

I mistakenly thought it would be a  mere matter for my old neighbours to ask around to find me a simple croft house for us to rent in order to spend some time close by.

All conversations of late have been about how few people remain, how many the curse of the whisky has carried away.  I heard the words, thinking in my naivety that  the old families would still hold sway.  No chance!  Wondering why nothing was forthcoming I googled the area to find a whole new world of airbnb.  The trappings of the modern age sit strangely with life as I remembered it thirty years ago.

My home then photographed in 2016.

All those years ago it was a different life to what it is now. To say it was a thriving community then would be wrong.  I have so many happy memories of the times, the kindness and generosity of the Highlanders.  Attempting to live self sufficiently was a hard call; one which I managed for five years before calling it a day.
My heart in many ways would love to recreate the life, I know that will never happen.  All I want in May is to go back reminisce with my chums and generally soak up the atmosphere.  I don’t want slick polished five star accommodation.
Airbnb’s request for 
‘No parties or events’
 at odds with my simple memories of a bygone age.