This morning as I was getting ready to venture out into the garden I was given some midge repellent to apply. On the packaging it said: Flammable… irritating to eyes and mucous membranes… keep away from eyes and mouth… do not use on burnt or damaged skin…keep away from food, drinks and animal food… avoid contact with plastic, varnished or painted surfaces… I could continue but I think you get the idea. Do I really want to spray this on my skin? I asked myself. And the answer, dear reader is, Yes. Very definitely yes. And I’ll tell you why.
I’ve moved from Red Squirrel Lodge to new accommodation and as I set out cycling towards Benmore this morning I felt happy enough to be singing Johnny Cash’s, Sunday Morning going Down. Admittedly, I didn’t like the look of the low, black rain cloud that was hanging over the coast road, but heck, I figured a bit of rain wasn’t going to hurt me.
Unfortunately, the rain cloud turned out to be midges. A gazillion squadrons of them. At a conservative estimate I think I must have eaten about 2.5 kilos of the little blighters before I reached Benmore. And, in return, they had eaten at least 6 kilos of my flesh – which just goes to prove that history isn’t always written by the victor.
If only summer in Scotland brought clouds of dark, bitter chocolate and lime pickle (my absolute, without a shadow of a doubt, two favourite foods). If that was the case there’d be no repellent needed for me, and by the end of my month here I’d have doubled my weight… no, make that tripled.