Portents and Signs

'Can you get that gate?'
Shit. Is he asking me? Because I'm not the kind of guy who opens gates in the country. I'm the kind of guy who fucks things up in the country. The Great Outdoors makes me feel nervous. The people who live there make me nervous too. Take this nice man who's driving us out to the Shepherd's Hut that we've booked to stay in for a couple of days – he only wants a gate opened, but I've gone into a minor meltdown over the many ways I can screw that up. The nice man seems to subliminally understand my struggle too: when we reach a second locked gate he gently says 'That's the last one,' as if he knows what I'm going through. I'm sure that he's just being kind, but his words tell me he's got my number. City bumpkin.
I like to think of myself as a City Guy. Cities have things that I like – shops, bars, cafes, a lack of roaming wild animals - but after one day at this lovely spot, on the grounds of Inshriach Farm and only a few miles from oddly American Aviemore, I've been transformed. I'm happily chopping wood and still have all my fingers. We've been cooking over a wood-burning stove and shitting in a pile of sawdust. I am unwashed, unshaven, crazy haired and weather-beaten, and loving it. It's late April, but last night when we went out to brush our teeth the woods around us were twinkling, dusted with untouched snow. We had been so cosy in our cabin we hadn't noticed the blizzard outside. It's great.
What sums it up for me is The Sign. It's a fairly plain sign, with a company's name on (I think), and as we drive up to the farmhouse on our second day I see it again. 'People=Positive', it reads. Yesterday I sneered at that sign. Simply sneered at it. Didn't really give it a thought, just tutted and thought 'oh, really...?', like I was from some cool future where being nice is for losers. Today (and that's only 24 hours later!), I see that there's not only nothing wrong with it, but that it's quite sweet and hopeful. I feel a little sorry for day-before-me, so smothered in Big City Cool that a tiny bit of basic decency had me rolling my eyes. It's amazing what a lack of amenities and a long, multi-seasonal walk through the Cairngorms can do.
We return to Glasgow and I'm thoughtful. What are those things I like about the city again? Shops, bars and cafes? I'm in my forties, and if I'm honest, I hate socialising almost as much as I hate shopping. As for wild animals – have you seen Glasgow on a Saturday night? I'm moving!