Somewhere in the Middle with Scottish Susan

Tonight, after leaving my usual IGA with my urban exploration munchies for the night, I headed out to my car. A lovely young lady, possibly in her late 60s, had just reached her car, which was parked near mine. I looked up at the beautiful strings of lights stretching across the open car park and said, “Aren’t these lights so pretty?”

Her name was Susan and she agreed, saying she couldn’t wait to see them in summer, when they would look even prettier.

I looked at her and said, “I can’t wait for summer.”

It turned out, however, that Susan was one of those people who actually likes the cold.

Oh God. Here we go.

I love the heat and hate the cold, while Susan is almost the complete opposite but as we continued talking, we somehow managed to meet somewhere in the middle.

Although I hate cold weather, I love my heated mattress protector. I can stay in bed for hours, particularly when I’m doing research, with my cats cuddled up beside me.

Susan also loves being warm and cosy, although her real element was running outside in the cold. She grew up in Scotland and used to run in freezing weather. She particularly loved it when it started raining because, after working up a sweat, the rain would cool her down.

I told her I hate getting wet.

She pointed out that when you’re running, you’re going home to have a shower anyway. It’s not as though you are turning up to work soaking wet.

Again, she had a point.

It’s funny how, when you break things down, something you think you hate, sometimes has a part which you can understand or even like.

Susan can no longer run because of sciatica and a long history of back injuries and operations. She’d been running regularly since childhood and believes her back problems may have started then, or that running from such a young age may have contributed to them.

When she spoke about running through the Scottish countryside, I could picture wild horses thundering across the landscape, their manes blowing in the wind.

A photograph believed to be of Susan in Scotland, taken some time ago.

For some reason, I then asked, “Vikings didn’t have horses, did they?”

Susan actually had to stop and think about it.

Maybe they did.

She described running as her element. The place where she felt completely in the zone and she wished she could still do it.

I told her my equivalent was abandoned buildings.

She looked slightly shocked, perhaps even taken aback and immediately expressed fear. It’s something I rarely feel in those places, although perhaps I will again oneday.

I told her abandoned buildings are the only places where I really feel alive. Documenting Perth, exploring buildings and recording pre-demolition sites before more of our history disappears, gives me a fuel so strong that it’s become more than a purpose.

It is my life. My reason.

Then she told me she loves history.

And just like that, despite starting at completely opposite ends of the season, we’d found somewhere in the middle.

Then we said goodbye and went our separate ways.

Note: Vikings were Scandinavian, not Scottish, although they raided, settled and ruled parts of Scotland, particularly Orkney, Shetland and the Hebrides.