Lately this blog has been more about elsewhere than Berlin, but never mind, after this post I will deepen into life back home, monitoring the cherry blossoms at Rosa Luxemburg Platz and checking how the birches are sprouting green in the Buddhist gardens.
Katie, I wish I could have made it to Iona, but this trip to Mull was another lesson in the vagaries of traveling with a toddler. Never mind, if the image below was your view from bed, wouldn't you be tempted to stay in with tea and ginger biscuits? (If you're visiting Tobermory with friends, I can only recommend Janet Campbell's converted fisherman's house Seabrae, full of loving touches and generous faded floral armchairs.)
Scotland was precisely what I'd like it to be: blue and green and white, full of beloved friends, and treats. Tobermory's Island Bakery was ideal for assembling picnics, and I'm still meditating on the one perfect oyster that began a perfect dinner at Cafe Fish. Back home, what a delight to know there's a waxed round of Isle of Mull cheese to be sliced over oatcakes. Is there anything nicer than the honor system? At the Sgriob-ruadh Dairy farm shop, cheeses were attractively displayed in a glass case; we left our money in a wooden hen on the countertop, admired the antique presses and white Wellingtons, then left. If you're back in the summer, tell me how the garden cafe is.
PS: A toddler prone to motion-sickness meant I couldn't join an outing to the Ardalanish Weavers, but I was intensely envious when David brought back stories of Swedish interns demonstrating the vintage looms. Maybe you'll have better luck? Do the farm trail if you can!