The pub she’d booked was just as she’d imagined a Scottish pub would look. The blurb on the booking app said that the Royal Dunkeld was built in 1810 and had once been a coach inn. The grand staircase—another bloody staircase—took her to her room, which looked out onto the main street, where the box of flowers outside the window brightened up the overcast sky.

The late-afternoon air chilled Elle’s face as she headed out to explore the village. She reached the end of the main street and came to the beautiful old stone bridge that connected one side of the town to the other across the fast-flowing River Tay. As she headed back she looked for a place to have dinner, and settled on the Atholl Arms Hotel, a pretty, whitewashed building that overlooked the river.

In just about every place she’d eaten so far she had noticed the same dish featured on the menu and had never been game to ask about it, but tonight as her waiter came to take her order, she decided to get adventurous. ‘Cullen Skink,’ she said, looking up at the young man. ‘What is it?

‘It’s a thick, creamy soup,’ he replied in a New Zealand accent. It was so strange to hear an accent that almost felt like home—well, close enough to home—that she felt an instant kinship. ‘Made with smoked haddock, potatoes and chives. It’s pretty good.’

‘Oh, so it’s fish,’ she said, relieved.

What did you think it was? Gran asked, sounding confused.

I don’t know … lizard?

Gran made a startled choking kind of sound and Elle jumped, causing her Kiwi waiter to give her an odd glance.

‘It does sound really good, actually. I’ll have that, thanks,’ she told him quickly, handing back the menu.

I can’t believe you thought the Scots were mad enough to eat lizard, Gran hooted.

As it turned out, the soup was delicious and she walked back to the Royal later that night feeling tired, but happy that she’d survived her first day driving in Scotland.

According to the map, it was only a four-hour drive to Kilmuir, the area of Skye where Stormeil Castle was supposedly located. It still amazed Elle how everything was so close in Scotland. Back home pretty much nowhere was only four hours away. She had once driven to the Sunshine Coast to pick up her sister, doing a thirteen-hour drive in a day.

We’re not heading to Skye yet, are we? We’ve still got so much more to explore, Gran piped up.

‘I’ve only booked the stay for sixteen days, Gran. I’m just checking to make sure we’re still on track with our time.’

You can change your flight if you need to. It’s not set in stone, is it?

‘Well, it kind of is. I’m not sure changing flights is that easy.’

We’ve got plenty of time, Gran dismissed her.