I didn't watch an episode of Outlander or sit through a couple hours of Braveheart and think, "Ooo, Scotland is pretty, I need to move to Scotland!", even though, you know, it is pretty.
Actually, pretty is not the right word, Scotland is stunning and complex and rugged.
I remember as though it was yesterday. The heat of the sun. Crowds of locals relaxing, reading books, napping or having a picnic in a large public park. It’s a Sunday and as I sit down in the park, overlooking Edinburgh castle, a solo bagpiper starts playing, sending chills down my spine and bringing tears to my eyes. I was in Scotland (Edinburgh to be exact). Alone. And it was glorious.
Craighs of rocks among groves of moss-covered trees, valleys of apple green grass with hints of golden yellow, burnt umber, and rusty orange, dark shimmering lochs, mountains that are ten times larger than they appear, and centuries old castles. Scotland is full of beauty (and a rather brutal history which I'll write about another time), and has been the backdrop for many movie and television scripts and books - Diana Gabaldon's Outlander