I'm Wilma. Girl. No dragon tattoo. I love theatre, fashion, music that makes me orgasm and taking pictures. I have split myself between three places (London-Stockholm-Tallinn), but my current hub is Tallinn. Wherever my circus goes, there's always a party. If the party does end, I watch cat videos and blog about it all. Check out my yearly summaries below to get to know me a bit better. If you have any questions: hemafruu@gmail.com.

Sunday, June 24, 2018

Honeymoon in Scotland. 2 of 2

Let's now wrap our Scotland trip up with how Fred fulfilled his lifelong dream to visit paradise Isle of Islay. 
In case you missed the last post click here.


DAY 5

We woke up early to take the boat to the Isle of Islay:


The saturation of distilleries on the island is insane, so our route was planned accordingly.
First stop: Lagavulin:


Paula started her whisky adventure from very high quality. Corner shop piss will now never do.
She's no basic bitch, she's quality:


The only woman in the sea of penises:


Fred and Ottomar attended Lagavulin warehouse tasting
and they came multiple times:


Ottomar got to taste whisky straight from the cask,
it was such an honourable event,  that I suppressed my urge to Photoshop some dicks here:


Bros before hoes:


Even Bilbo popped by:


Alright, he wasn't Bilbo, he was legendary Ian McArthur. 
In other words, if Fred and I will get a divorce, he will marry him (if in hurry, start from 1:27):


You ask, what did I do in the meantime?
I was counting sheep and cows:


Next stop: Laphroaig:


Laphroaig distillery is surrounded by empty land. It carried the fresh spring water to the premises, which is pretty essential for the whisky production. To ensure water flow and in the same time avoid shady real estate development, a piece of this land is given to Laphroaig friends.
Fred now owns a piece of land on the Isle of Islay and put an Estonian flag on it:


The happiest landowner:


It warms my heart to see Fred to be thrilled to bits with whisky.
He is not that mellow like some of you think:


Happy boys:


The love island:


After eating fish and chips I felt so goooooood:


The pirate of the East:


He has quite big cannon between his legs:


DAY 6

Ain't no mountain high enough,
ain't no legs wide apart enough:


We arrived to Edinburgh and put some Mexican yummy in our tummies:


Edinburgh meant A. LOT. OF. stairs,
my ass is pretty firm now:


Look at this bloody tourist at the Royal Mile:


Tequila I handle just fine.
It's men in kilts that make my clothes fall off:


Edinburgh was absolutely stunning:


Bitches love flowers:


Deep-fried Mars bar is a notorious part of Scotland's unhealthy diet.
Boys were like SHUT UP AND GET INTO MY TUMMY:


A random EMO kid with three wild flowers:


I love him so much that it is hard to breathe:


Megan stole my heart during my Erasmus exchange in Stockholm.
Make hugs not war!:


DAY 7

Wicked tunes are incoming:


That moment when antique furniture is ridiculously cheap
and you are calculating if it fits in your carry-on:


Workout is a total waste without a photo to prove it:


Back in Glasgow where we started our trip:


Fred is high on life. And whisky.
Mostly whisky:


Fred is worried that he is not saving enough for his retirement alcohol.


If gingers bring good luck,
then I am the happiest and luckiest Wilma alive:


It was not intended that one of us would stay our of the frame.
MISTAKES WERE MADE, BUT WE LOVE YOU HEIDY!


The Pot Still and whisky.
Since no great stories started with the word "salad":

Thank you Scotland, you were so kind towards us. 
We are pretty sure that we will meet you soon again!

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