81. Megan
Chapter 81
Megan
Seven Weeks Later
On the West coast of Scotland, we batten down the hatches, locking the doors as a storm blows in.
In this part of the country, you really do get multiple seasons in one day. We started our day with a swim in the crystal waters at Big Sands before walking to the nearest village for coffee and pastries. We ate them at a little table outside with the sun warming our faces, then picked up fresh vegetables from a farm shop for dinner.
In the gift section, I bought a crocheted Highland cow for Kara and Luke’s baby girl. Meadow Annie Taylor was born last week, and is the most beautiful little bundle of squishy joy I have ever seen in my life. We can’t wait to meet her as soon as we get back at the end of August. After an hour-long soak in the tub, that is.
Apart from my friends, who text for daily updates on our adventures, baths are the only thing I miss about home. We’ve been on the road for seven weeks now, with two left to go, and every day has brought different experiences. Turns out those extra-long private school summers my dad used to tease me about are a total blessing when you step out of your comfort zone and actually do something with them.
Ollie’s months of planning and preparation mean everything in the van has a home, and even with the addition of my belongings, we’ve managed to carve out a wonderful life in the small space we call home.
We spend our days exploring coastal paths and seeking out fresh local foods to try. Sometimes I’ll read while he plays guitar, or often I’m content to just sit and listen, and admire the stunning views.
For the first time in my life, I’m properly resting. Not following some multi-step plan that turns resting into work. There’s no time to stress about the future when we’re taking each day as it comes and living in the moment.
At night, we take turns to cook, or sometimes get together with other campers to share whatever food has taken our fancy that day. We’ve met so many interesting people from all over the world; yoga teachers, film-makers, writers, couples and families. Everyone loves to swap stories and recommendations, and our list is getting longer and longer. It’s hard to think about going home to our flat when there is so much more of the country, and the world, to explore.
Last week, we met two English teachers who work for an International school that delivers all their classes online. Their students are mostly from families who travel a lot, either for work or leisure, and with the power of technology, the staff can work and teach from anywhere.
They did their best to convince me to apply, and it’s tempting, but I’m expected back at Swanham Hall in September. I'm open to the idea though, so we'll see how things go this year.
Though I was determined my life shouldn’t get in the way of Ollie’s dreams, he's decided he’ll stay with me during term-time, keep working for my dad, and then we’ll travel as much as we can during the holidays. The best of both worlds.
The van wobbles a little in the howling wind, rain battering the metal roof. The first time we braved a storm, we weren’t sure what to do with ourselves, but now we’ve got a bad weather routine that feels like something we actively look forward to.
We make warm drinks, surround ourselves with piles of cushions, and snuggle up to watch a film together under the blanket he bought for me in IKEA all those months ago. I tell people he bought it on our first date and he never gets bored with hearing me tell the story.
“Exfoliating or replenishing?” Ollie asks, peering into the shelf compartment that houses our bathroom products.
“Ooh, replenishing, please.”
I apply my face mask while he gets comfy, propping himself up against the wall of our bed and loading up a movie. I can guarantee we’ll watch less than half before our focus turns to each other. Once mine is in place, I straddle him and tear open his packet.
“You should definitely know how to do this by now,” I tell him, gently smoothing out the edges and the parts around his nose.
“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have my beautiful girl in my lap and this perfect peach in my hands.”
He gives me a firm squeeze, pulling me closer, fingertips sneaking under the hem of my shorts.
“Today was a good day,” I tell him, pushing his hair back in slow, rhythmic strokes. It’s the longest I’ve seen it, and absolutely gorgeous.
“Every day is a good day with you, Megan.”
And he's right. I never imagined I'd feel comfortable living in a converted campervan, but truly, home is wherever I'm with him.