I sat on the plane, holding on to my handbag for dear life. I was fifteen and it was the first time I was travelling abroad. It was also the first time I was travelling without my parents.

'Everything okay?' the air hostess asked me, no doubt having noticed the horrified expression on my face.

'Peachy,' I answered. I tried to smile but I only managed a distorted grin.

My English teacher had organized a trip to Scotland and, after much cajoling, I had managed to convince my father to let me go. I was incredibly excited about the whole thing, but my fear of planes didn't let me relax.

Our plane was due to land in London hours before the Royal Wedding. We would watch that and four days later, we would proceed to Glasgow by coach.

Watching Diana pass by in her fairy tale carriage was a dream come true. I loved looking at shop windows and watching the memorabilia. Mugs with the faces of the Royal couple, British flags... it was all incredibly tacky, but also sweet.
I don't remember much about my trip to Glasgow, only that when we arrived my 'adoptive family' was waiting for me.

At first I was a bit lost. I could understand them when they addressed me directly but when they talked to each other it sounded like Swahili. After a few days, though, I was one more member of the family. They even made jokes because I was using some very Scottish expressions.

My parents wrote long, letters and I was happy to receive them, but for the most time I didn't even think about them. I didn't want to go back to Spain. I wanted to stay in this new alternate universe for ever.

We had some fun times. Like the day I asked them to give me some vinegar to wash my slippers with to stop the colours from running.

'Spanish people are really peculiar,' they said, laughing hysterically. I found out later that was not something they did in Scotland.

My visit to Loch Ness was also a great success. I, obviously, did not see Nessie, but I took pictures of the breathtaking scenery. To this day, heather is my favourite flower. In fact, when my daughter was born, I wanted to call her Heather, but my husband said nobody would know how to pronounce that name in Spain. So we called her Iris instead.


The forty-day trip went by very quickly, but Scotland will always hold a special place in my heart.