Everything feels different, as though the light this far north comes from a different sun
What’s going for it? Every time I step off the sleeper at Inverness, it feels as if I’ve dozed off south of Crewe and woken up in Reykjavik or Trondheim. Everything feels different, as though the light this far north comes from a different sun, cooler and lower. It makes the city exotic to this southern softie. The more so when I clock the turrets of the castle, the mountains in the distance or dance a tipsy jig in Hootananny bar. Reports often cite the citizens of Inverness as the happiest in the country, perhaps owing to all this and the city’s casually ordinary beauty, the things it probably takes for granted, like the fresh (sometimes teeth-janglingly so) air, wildness on its doorstep, or the promenades along the beautiful banks of the river Ness. A decent economy helps, too: the city has long been one of the fastest growing in the UK thanks to the hi-tech and healthcare sectors. Or maybe it’s the dolphins in the Moray Firth. Just the sign of a nose breaking the water’s surface is enough to cheer me up.
The case against Not a lot. Even the hours you have to put in to get to other big towns or cities seem worth it when you’re home.
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