Ghostblog Hantu dan Mitos

In late October every other year, my school arranges a trip abroad. It is open to all employees, but participation will of course vary with destination, prices and for all I know menstruation cycles. Anyway, this years destination was Nice, France and out of sheer boredom I finally decided to snatch the last available ticket, belonging to a colleague who could no longer go. Since the city itself didn't hold that much attraction to me, I decided to rent a car and explore the countryside for two days. I had hopes of getting colleagues to join me and thus split the cost, but apparently I should have planned way longer in advance (note to self there) or possibly changed my deodorant, because I had to drive off on my own, sweet own. My first destination was a couple hours north of Nice, up in the mountains of the Mercantour National Park, not far from the Italian border. The Parc Alpha contains three packs of wolves and two souvenir shops that seem too large for the place, but when I sa...

Tuesday, I set off for Dunfermline to see a new castle. I felt weak, but thank fuck nothing happened with my stomach while I was on the road to the lovely Loch Leven Castle , or, for that matter before I reached relative safety at my lodgings in Dunfermline. I'd had the wits to fill up with a couple of imodium pills and they worked their magic that day, praise Jebus. Loch Leven Castle lies out in... well, Loch Leven. On an island creatively known as Castle Island. The castle was probably built around the year 1300 and was used in the Wars of Scottish Independence. It was later owned by the Douglas family for around 300 years and Mary Queen of Scots was imprisoned here 1567-8. As the boat headed towards Castle Island, we had lovely views on our right. A birdbrain - sorry, pheasant - was striding aimlessly across the lawn for the duration of our stay there. One of the many mighty trees on the island. There was a small tower and I believe a jail in this corner. The tower house. Nice ...

I spent all but a few precious hours of this night with a horrible, horrible diarrhea. When daylight broke I showered, got dressed and made my hasty goodbyes to the good folks at my little B & B, who no doubt wondered who the hell I was and why I'd even bothered to book there since I wasn't even having breakfast. The following images were all taken up around Stoer, and as I made my way south in the day, I recognized some features from my last visit in 2013; turns out I had taken the long, scenic road back then and not the quicker, inland route. I drove straight down to Drumnadrochit before risking another meal and was damn near famished when I finally reached the place. Most of that day was spent on the can, apart from a couple blessed hours when I went across the street to a restaurant to fill up again. Just outside my lodgings I discovered this lovely little waterfall, which had been hidden by the rapidly descending nightfall the day before. Not much to look at perhaps, b...