. ABSOLUTELY BUGGER ALL, but thankfully, since I returned, I'm quite proud of the fact I've managed to dodge paying all sense of tax into this senseless system of reprobates we call the 'Goverment of Little Britain' by working on the black market on the grey island of Skye. All the meaningless rules and exorbitant wasters of time almost
have no place on my island - 'Eileen A Cheo' as it's called in Gaelic. This roughly translates as 'the misty as all hell isle' - except the wind don't blow so hard in hell!
I've been enjoying the extraordinary climatic conditions that the Scottish winter has thrown our way immensely. Especially when doing hard labour in substandard clothing, building shit houses on freezing wind blasted coastlines. It would be fucking boring if I didn't open my door to the tempestuous 120mph whirlwinds of wheelie bins, kayaks and dislodged slates doing Harry Potter style airborne magic shows before my eyes - "don't park your car near the house son, it might get damaged". Somehow, even though there's so few people, Skye can be quite an exciting place to live. The Glasweegians and the English scamper here north in their droves to "get away from it all". They soon leave however - when they discover how severe the weather gets!
No seriously, Skye is at times, enchanting
. As the photos will testify, it's an exceptionally beautiful place, the light is quite unique and the way of life none too short of 'alternative'. You gotta love the dancing clouds and the driving squalls of swirling rain which can be seen arriving from the horizon lacerated with shards of painted sunlight. Always changing and never predictable. One old boy, 70 year old 'e was, been living in the Western Isles all his life - "ne'er seen wea'er like this lad. Not since Nam". Apart from the obviously riotous locals, the isolation is a major element to life here. Driving HUNDREDs of miles to get ANYWHERE relevant is the norm. This is hard to take for two reasons: A. we have the most expensive petrol known to mankind, B. I have actually been absent for a small portion of my short lifetime and fancy catching up with a whole crew of mates I haven't seen in nearly 3 years. I think I've only been in Edinburgh twice since I returned and although I have seen one or two choice amigos, along with a few seriously rowdy nights of hell-raising with the mafia brothers in Inverness, this has been about the extent of my social activity.
Christmas has become an insumrountable obstacle in my departure from Skye. I obviously haven't spent one with the family over the last coupla years. Christmas is a big thing with our family. Do I get a job and move on, risking another one absent from mother hens warm nest, or do I face another month at-least of wonderful home cooking, horrendous nagging from the old bird, and a winter that's set to be the coldest in ten years? I think I might just pull through the later. Hopefully the cold winter months will provide me with the motivation I need to get a proper job, save up, and move on again to warmer shores.... then again Santa tells me he's delivering a new snowboard for Xmas - perhaps, I'll love it! Ja ja jaaaa!!
Job? what job? Catch me if you can!! HA HAAAA!!!
Being home is like sleeping in a skanky mosquito infested pit of a shack on a deserted beach in some random country no-one has heard of where law has no meaning: you don't like it, but at the same time you love it, at the end of the day, it just has to be done. It shall be. There's no way round it and theres no escaping it. MIND ENJOY IT. The similarities in the cost of living are about the same, as is the level of work which is required to get by. The levels of dispensable income and limitless independance are however sadly amiss. I'm finding it extremely hard having to deal with all the meaningless BULLSHIT of-course, but somehow, I've managed just by thinking of the Inland Fucking Revenue or the Value Added Tadgerless bunch of cocksuckers in the same light as that corrupt old boot in Cambodia on border patrol who robbed me blind; except she only did it once and at least I knew she looked like a rat! In just the same way as before, I smirk at my misfortune and look only to the future - so when we going for a beer folks? I still shudder at the thought of the tens of thousands my father is forced to pay every year for....