MY OWN PRIVATE ISLAND

“FOR SALE: an uninhabited 25-acre island with pristine views of the Scottish coastline. No one in sight for miles, just you and the birds. Price tag for Barlocco Island: $186,000 (or 150,000 British pounds).”  

That CNN news blurb was online a few weeks ago and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. And every now and then, it sounds absolutely wonderful. What a steal. What a location!

I picture the serenity and can almost hear waves splashing the pebbly shore while I watch great black-backed gulls swoop over rock sea lavender. I envision having time (at last!) to read all those books piled on my bedside table. I imagine the sweaters and hats I could knit, using Scottish wool and Fairisle patterns. (I adored the Netflix series SHETLAND and have countless projects in mind.)

Then I read further: “The island can only be reached at low tide by tractor, quadbike or on foot. Otherwise, there is a pebble beach where small boats can be anchored. The island is six miles from the largest nearby town, Gatehouse of Fleet, which is itself is a two-hour drive from Glasgow.”

(Gatehouse of Fleet doesn’t sound like Party Central but you take what you get.)

And, “While there are no dwellings or buildings on the island, there is a small pebble beach and a flood pond where rainwater could gather in extreme rainfall and provide water for livestock and wildlife.”  Apparently, water for cows but not humans. 

Hmmm.

Since my idea of glamping is a Holiday Inn Express, and the last time I slept in a sleeping bag, inside or outside a tent, was at Girl Scout camp during the Truman administration, reality sets in the more I contemplate my arrival on Barlocco.

Quick and obvious problems: would my duffle, favorite pillow, computer bag, jar of Jif, bags of wool, 15 books and flask of Famous Grouse fit on the tractor? (Forget the quad bike.) Or in the dingy that I’d hope would be rowed across the channel by a willing-to-go-anywhere Party Central fisherman who moonlights as an Uber guy.

The more I think about it, the more I realize what I’ll miss: my family and friends, my Yves Delorme sheets, my Nespresso coffee maker, watching “The Night Agent” on Netflix with Mr. Wonderful, ordering the blackened salmon entree at the Village Tavern and the lightly fried haddock at Billy’s Chowder House, devouring an almond croissant at the Boulangerie in Kennebunk. And a lot more.

But that’s why we have dreams and imaginations. For a few fleeting minutes we escape the humdrum and the hectic and put ourselves in a place we think is paradise. Honestly, I’m too old for that stuff anyway and I never liked to fish either. I probably couldn’t get Words With Friends on my iPhone. OMG, would my iPhone work????

Nope. Not going. Perfectly happy here in the Wells woods. But every now and then, it’s fun to dream.