Scotland, The great

Author Marie-Laure Gros

The first of a long series was spent in Scotland when I went there to settle for a year as a French assistant.

I was on a bus to Hamilton, where I was going to live. I made a mistake and went down too early. I found myself with my luggage in a gray street under a gray sky and a furious desire to cry: but what did I do in this galley!

I was waiting for the next bus, when postal workers (from the post office in front of the bus stop) crossed the street with a tray on which was a cup of tea and cupcakes. They spoke to me in an English language that was incomprehensible to me, but I never forgot that charming, delicate attention that was the signal for a great year made of fabulous encounters and similar events.

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