A chance viewing of the comic’s World Tour of Scotland made me swap Australia for the Highlands, although things didn’t quite go to plan …
I
was 23 and thought I had found my path in life. I’d always wanted to work with animals, and I had just landed a job as a vet nurse in Melbourne. I was still learning the ropes, but I imagined I would stay there for years, building a life around the work. Then, five months in, the vet called me into his office and told me it wasn’t working out. “It’s not you,” he said, “I just really hate training people.” His previous nurse had been with him for decades; she knew his every move. I didn’t. And just like that, I was out of a job.
I drove home crying, feeling utterly adrift. I wasn’t sure whether to try again at another vet clinic or rip up the plan entirely and do something else. After spending a few days floating around aimlessly, trying to recalibrate my life, I turned on the TV, needing something to take my mind off things. And there he was: Billy Connolly, striding across a windswept Scottish landscape in his World Tour of Scotland documentary.
I had always liked Billy: I’d watched plenty of his standup shows on TV, laughing at his stories about growing up in Glasgow. But this was different. The programme, which had come out a few years previously, in 1994, was a love letter to Scotland, full of history, humour and stunning scenery. I had never studied British or Irish history at school, so everything he was talking about – the castles, the battles, the wild coastlines – was brand new to me. I found myself completely transfixed.
