Scones, Sleep and Mummy Sheep

This weekend, Niall and I decided to run away to the Dryfesdale Hotel in Lockerbie for a few days of unwinding and doing absolutely hee haw. After all, one of us is working on a thesis and the other is a lazy layabout, so I figured we deserved a break.

The weekend didn’t get off to the best start, with a series of unfortunate events leading to us walking down a motorway in the pitch dark in the worst weather I’ve ever experienced for an hour. This was definitely in no way my fault. Definitely. Don’t listen to Niall, he’s a madman.

We arrived at the hotel throughly drookit, and after an admission from Niall that if he was ever going to murder me, it’d be right now, I decided it was best to start plying him with alcohol immediately. We checked in, headed up to our room and filled the bath with cold water and booze, like the classy folks we are.

We may have gone overboard on the vino. Or maybe that's just our regular photo faces. Who knows?

We may have gone overboard on the vino. Or maybe that’s just our regular photo faces. Who knows?

The next morning was blustery and grey, but dry after the world shattering storm of the night before. Since he was the one who actually needed to relax, I left Niall sleeping and went for a wander around the scenic hotel grounds.

That's the hotel, hiding at the top of the hill there.

That’s the hotel, hiding at the top of the hill there.

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Look at the little laaaaambs!

Look at the little laaaaambs!

News of my walk earned me nothing but ridicule from the boy, who insisted that my fondness for lambs marked me out as a clear townie, and that there was really no such thing as a “mummy sheep”. Much hilarity involving mummy sheep and gentlemen sheep transpired, all at my expense. Despite his unsporting mockery, I allowed Niall to accompany me to afternoon tea, mainly so I could snaffle his glass of prosecco.

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No word of a lie, I would go back to this hotel for the restaurant alone. Comfy couches and chairs lined a wall entirely made of windows, which offered completely breathtaking views of the nearby hills. As a resident country bumpkin, Niall was less impressed than I with the scenery, but even he conceded that it was “grand, I suppose”. We ate breakfast, afternoon tea and dinner in this same room, and the views looked different every time. I could have spent the entire weekend curled up on one of those couches with a cup of tea and left happy.

Niall admiring the views. Me admiring Niall.

Niall admiring the views. Me admiring Niall.

We took a much less traumatic walk back into town, a journey which in the sunlight only took about 20 minutes. After months of being battered by freezing cold and rain, passing each other like ships in the night thanks to work, uni and various other shenanigans, walking along hand in hand in the sunshine was as good a holiday as I could have hoped for. He even picked me a handful of daffodils, because he’s a big sap, really.

But more importantly, our jaunt into the town allowed us to replenish our vital stocks for the room. Armed with strawberry pencils, bags of popcorn and yes, more alcohol, we headed back to the hotel, just in time for the rain to start pelting down again.

So we did what any normal couple would do. Hunkered down for the night and watched a veritable bumload of CSI. Brilliant.

Seriously, if anyone is looking for a relaxing little weekend, this hotel is awesome. The scenery is to die for, the rooms are nice and comfy, and the staff are stupidly friendly. Like, crazy friendly. But in a good way. We arrived back in Edinburgh all smiles, feeling utterly replenished, and with me already thinking about where we can go next…

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Love Actually Is All Around

Well folks, in the time honoured tradition of Valentine’s Day, this is gonna be a soppy one.

I mean sure, Valentine’s Day is generally bollocks, and the whole idea of forced, plasticy romance makes me sad, but as a big romantic at heart, I can definitely get on board with a day dedicated solely to celebrating the people we love.

So this post is to serve as a great, big, mushy I LOVE YOU to the people who have stuck by me for some inexplicable reason, despite my frequent bouts of insanity and dimness.

The Boy

niall

This guy. He is excellent. He has pretty much saved my whole entire life this year, and continues to tell me that I’m wonderful and beautiful, even when I haven’t brushed my hair in five days, or am openly being a dick to him. If I could send one message back to my 16 year old self, it would probably be: don’t sweat it, you totally end up with an awesome, sexy Irishman who kisses like a champ, carries you to bed when you fall asleep on the sofa and makes the greatest shepherd’s pie known to man. Well done on being magnificent, Niall.

The Girl

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This is the love of my life. Since our eyes met across an empty Halls of Residence corridor four years ago, she has mopped up buckets of tears, made literally hundreds of cups of tea and ran away to Bruges with me, six weeks before our respective dissertations were due. I won’t say she kept me sane…it’d probably be more accurate to say she’s kept me nice and insane. She is ace.

The Partner In Crime

sophie

The whole fam are getting a shoutout in a minute (spoilers!), but this little one deserves a spot of her own. Like, I can’t even…my words aren’t good enough. Sophie, you are the absolute bomb and I love you so, so much. Kid, you’ll move mountains.

The Family

saints

I don’t think there’s a photo that has everyone in it, but this is pretty close. My family are literally everything. Every good quality I have is down to them. I know everyone thinks that their family are the greatest, but mine actually are. Totally mental, but undeniably the most wonderful, loving group of people a girl could ask to be thrown in with.

To every single one of these people: you are my soulmates. I love you with all my heart, unconditionally and forever. Happy Valentine’s Day folks, I hope your soulmates are as epic as mine.