This weekend, I survived an earthquake. No, really.
Actually, to be more correct, I slept through it. Yes, Scotland may boast a fautline in the form of the Great Glen, but quakes are rarely noticeable, and Sunday morning’s came in at a modest 3.5 on the Richter scale. Nicole and I were in Fort Augustus for the night, and others in the house felt it.
I’ve been in a few other considerably more famous earthquake zones, such as San Francisco or Napier, and there is evidence in both of reconstruction, new waves of building, and the psychological footprint of the cities having survived something big and perhaps been stronger for it.
I wonder how different Scottish history might have been if our geology was just a bit more tempestuous.