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Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy.
My name's Thomas.
Thank you so much for tuning in.
I hope you're well.
Tonight we're taking a relaxing journey to the mountains and glens of the Scottish Highlands.
A place known for its awe-inspiring landscapes ancient castles, shimmering locks and free-roaming wild stags.
During our laid-back seasonal break, We'll stay in a luxurious wooden lodge, bake traditional Scottish fare, relax by a crackling log fire and gaze out of the window as the snowflakes begin to fall.
I have the pleasure of narrating for you, and thanks in appreciation to Angela for writing this lovely story.
So make sure you're nice and cosy in your warm bed, prepared to imagine the cold, frosty climes of the Scottish Highlands.
Take a moment to simply appreciate the space you're in.
This is your safe, peaceful haven where you can rest each night and take a well-deserved break from the world and all your responsibilities.
In this restful spot, you're offering yourself some TLC, the chance to relax and recharge, And that's a wonderful thing to do for yourself.
We often overlook the importance of these moments, not just when coming to bed at night, but also the opportunity to put everything down and totally relax in the middle of the day.
With modern technology and this instant update, instant news, instant reply type of culture we've slipped into, it's quite normal for us to consider rest to be the times when we're aimlessly scrolling through our phones.
But ultimately, even that isn't providing true rest for your brain.
You're still absorbing and processing the stuff you're seeing or hearing.
Sometimes, what I think we really need most is the chance to just let our minds be idle.
And you know they'll still be thinking away and pondering, but that's okay.
Just spending a little time in a quiet spot, not trying to achieve anything or to take on any information.
I think that's important and worthwhile.
I don't do it enough myself.
I recognize that I get very fidgety if I feel like I'm not being productive.
But even just five or ten meditative minutes each day can have such a positive impact.
Our story tonight imbues that sense of slowing down, shutting off from the demands of the world and appreciating the simplicity of life.
Better yet, It's all to be enjoyed in beautiful, natural surroundings.
So, as you prepare for sleep, just listen to the sound of my voice and be transported to the picturesque Scottish Highlands on a chilly winter's day.
This is where our story begins.
It's just gone one in the afternoon in the Scottish Highlands.
The clouds in the sky are a whirl of charcoal, silver and white.
You're being driven slowly through a tiny village in a taxi en route to your destination.
A secluded, luxurious wooden lodge.
The backseat of the taxi is warm and cozy, and traditional music is on the radio.
A harmonic tune played on bagpipes filters through the speakers.
The lilting sound evoking the spirit and history of the region.
As you look out the window, you can see that the tiny village consists of just one long street and that all of the buildings are constructed from ancient rocks and minerals.
The exteriors of the houses are grey in colour, brightened only by vibrantly painted doors and window frames.
There are no supermarkets or fast food restaurants in the village, just a small post office, a bakery, a shop for everyday essentials and a historic inn.
The inn appears to be a popular meeting place for all the local people, a kind of community centre, but with the added benefits of tasty home-cooked food and beverages poured straight from the barrel.
At the end of the street, the taxi driver turns left and you find yourself travelling along a narrow country road that leads deep into the heart of the highlands.
The road is long and winding, but the views are spectacular.
Lush green pine forests appear and the valleys or glens are carpeted in rich, muted tones of ochre and brown.
Gently sloping mountains at either side of the glen shelter it from the elements.
Your driver informs you that some of the mountains in Scotland are known as Monroe's and that the term applies to any peak that stands over 3000 feet or 914 meters in height.
If you speak with the local people, he says you'll occasionally hear them saying that they're going to bag a Monroe.
This means that they're going to climb to the summit of one of them.
It's a popular outdoor activity in the area.
You find yourself captivated by his stories of highland life and of the people who live here.
So much so, that you don't even realize that the taxi has come to a halt.
Directly in front of you, on the side of a small hill partially encircled by trees, is the prettiest and most welcoming lodge you have ever seen.
The lodge is a wooden structure with a front deck offering the most incredible views across the glen.
Next to the deck, half barrels of rhododendrons, a hardy flowering shrub, decorate the exterior.
A flat stone positioned next to the front door has the words Daf Lodge etched into it.
When you ask, your driver tells you that the Gaelic word Daf means stack and that the lodge is named after the majestic creatures that roam freely in these parts.
With a sense of anticipation, you gather your belongings and thank the driver for a pleasant journey, before exiting the car.
You watch as the taxi departs, slowly disappearing along the road.
You are enveloped by an overwhelming sense of peace and tranquility.
As you stand at the front of the lodge, you take a moment to breathe in the cool, crisp air.
It has a distinct smell, a mix of damp moss and pine forests, with smoky undertones from the peat.
It's an earthy fragrance that invigorates the senses.
You linger outside, pausing to take in your surroundings, so unspoilt and rugged.
The view looks like a scenic postcard.
Within moments, the winter chill sets in, and you decide to head into the lodge.
The trusting owner has left the key for you in a plastic pouch and hidden it behind a large stone with the lodge's name on Placing the key in the lock, you turn it and silently, the door to the lodge opens.
Inside, you are greeted with a lovely open-plan space.
It is cozy and beautifully decorated.
The decor is modern for the most part, with flourishes of traditional tartan fabric throughout.
You take it all in, slowly looking around to get your bearings.
To your left is the lounge.
And to your right, a large country-style kitchen fitted with contemporary high-end appliances.
The floor in the lodge is laid with polished terracotta tiles.
They are adorned with fluffy rugs in a natural tone.
A modern black wood-burning stove with an exposed flue pipe is the focal point of the lounge, and next to it a large basket is piled with seasonal logs and fragrant pine cones.
Placing your backpack on a convenient rack next to the front door.
You take off your coat and boots and enjoy the feeling as you walk into the lounge in your socks.
You open the curtains allowing the daylight to stream in, and turn on two pretty glass lamps to create a softer atmosphere.
A printed note on the table tells you that the lamps were designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh, a Scottish designer, architect and artist.
The lamps are unusual, with geometric and floral Art Nouveau patterns on them that create prisms of coloured light on the wall when illuminated.
A comfortable three-seater sofa has been positioned opposite the fire.
It is dressed with tartan cushions and draped with throws that match the fabric of the curtains.
You recall reading that every Scottish family or clan has their own tartan.
To the right of the sofa, angled towards the fire, a heritage green wingback armchair with an accompanying footstool invites you to read a book whilst sipping a mug of hot chocolate.
Along the wall, to the left of the wood-burning stove, several shelves hold myriad books.
Leather-bound novels and well-worn paperbacks are arranged side by side in no particular order.
You can see books about Scottish poetry, ancient legends and maps.
Some even appear to have local Highland recipes inside.
You remove one book about Scottish Clans and their tartans and place it on the table by the armchair, vowing to read it later.
You decide to light the fire to warm up the room.
Removing the firewood and kindling from the, you carefully place the logs inside the stove and add a couple of scented pine cones for good measure.
A lighter has been left so you can ignite the fire with ease.
And when the flames are burning, you close the glass door, pausing to watch the intermittent flicker of yellow and orange as the wood begins to crackle and sizzle.
The lounge warms up quickly, the sudden burst of heat making you feel a little sleepy.
But now that the fire is roaring, you find yourself wanting to explore the rest of the lodge.
Opposite the lounge is the kitchen.
The cabinets are expertly crafted from pinewood and you can see a square porcelain sink and granite worktop.
The fridge freezer is tall, black and retro in style, with branded silver lettering on the door, and there is a matching double-range cooker.
The piece de resistance, however, is the dining table and chairs.
They have been hand-carved by a local artisan.
The table appears to be part of a tree.
It is round in shape, with no straight edges.
Although it's been waxed and polished, the rough bark still remains around the perimeter.
It truly is a beautiful specimen, complete with a visible grain and rings.
You find yourself feeling grateful that part of this tree now has a second life here in the lodge.
You run your fingers along the wood grain.
The texture is smooth and there are no imperfections.
The dining chairs, of which there are six, complement the table.
The backs of them have been carved in designs of trees present in the area.
Pine, oak.
And While admiring the table and chairs, you realize that you have overlooked a basket that the owner has left in the corner.
Upon investigation, you discover that it's packed to the brim with local produce.
It contains all of the ingredients you need to bake shortbread, a favourite buttery melt-in-the-mouth biscuit.
Also in the basket you find berries marmalade, fresh cream and milk from a nearby dairy porridge oats vegetables, barley and a variety of snacks and drinks.
Owner has also gifted you a mug, along with a handwritten note that tells you it was painted by a lady in the village.
The mug features a red stag and a capercaillie, the latter a woodland bird with distinctive dark plumage.
It's only found in a few areas.
The beautiful mug puts you in mind of a cup of tea.
You fill the kettle with fresh water from the tap.
When you booked the lodge, the description said that it's some of the purest water in the whole world, as it comes directly from an ancient mountain spring.
You set down the kettle to boil, listening as the water heats up with whistling, whirring and bubbling sounds that break the silence in the lodge.
Opening your backpack You take out a warm fleecy jacket as well as your hat and gloves.
Then you put your boots back on before carrying your mug of hot tea out onto the deck.
The deck at the front of the lodge is furnished with a table and chairs.
You take a seat, grasping your mug in gloved hands, and look out across the glen.
You can see dots in the distance, but you aren't sure if it's people hiking along a trail or resident deer out for an afternoon stroll.
Sipping your tea, you feel a true sense of well-being.
A feeling that can seldom be found in a busy city or on a daily commute.
This is different.
There are no distractions.
No smartphones.
No laptops. and no television.
Just you and the infinite wonders of nature.
The idea of being so remote and isolated doesn't faze you in the slightest.
In fact, you are finding that you welcome it.
It's like having a leisure break from all of your daily chores and responsibilities in life.
A time to reboot and reset your mind, body and spirit.
You close your eyes, relaxing every muscle as you lean back into the chair before inhaling slowly and exhaling again.
When you open your eyes, you notice that something has appeared below the gentle slope of the hill, perhaps 10 meters from where you sit.
A majestic red has come to visit.
You are careful not to make any sudden movements, not wishing to alarm your new animal friend.
The stag mirrors your behavior, almost unmoving.
As you look at each other, you sense a connection, a bond with nature that you have never quite felt before.
A realization that we are all one, all connected in an unexplained universe of mysteries.
You recall reading something about red stags shedding their antlers every year.
They lose them in the spring, regrow them in the summer months, and at this time of year, a time known as rutting season, they have a full and clean set.
This stack is no exception.
His antlers are straight and rugged with a crown shape and around 12 tines or points.
Taking a deep breath in, you smile, sending positive energy to the stack.
Although the creature is in rutting season, a time when they warn off rivals to find a mate, it appears to understand your message.
It dips its head slightly, before turning and galloping away, back towards the forest.
As you watch the stack moving freely across the glen, you too feel a sense of freedom.
Like the red stack.
You can do anything, you can go anywhere and find happiness and joy in the simplest of things.
You continue to observe the creature as he approaches the edge of the pine forest.
Here, he stops and turns, loudly bellowing his mating call.
It's a deep and guttural sound that reverberates throughout the valley, somewhat of a cross between the mooing of a cow and the foghorn of a ship.
You smile as you watch him patiently waiting for any possible suitors to appear before moving on to pastures new to continue his search.
At this time of year, the darkness creeps in early, so although it's just late afternoon, daylight is already beginning to fade.
Finishing your mug of tea, you venture back indoors.
Opening the front door, you can see that the fire is still burning brightly in the lounge.
The whole lodge feels atmospheric, cozy, lovely and warm.
You remove your fleece and accessories and add extra logs to the fire. with a set of tongs.
Then, you return to the kitchen.
As you unpack the ingredients from the basket to make shortbread, you notice through the window that the first flakes of snow have begun to fall.
A gentle smattering of white starts to veil the deck, and several flakes stick to the windowpane.
An old-fashioned radio encased in maroon leather sits on a shelf above the kitchen counter.
You turn it on.
There is no reception at first, but with a few twiddles of the dial, you find a radio station.
The hosts are speaking in Gaelic, the ancient language of the Highlands.
Although you don't understand what they are saying, the sound is soothing and the lilting dialect draws you into their world.
You smile, placing the staple ingredients of caster sugar, salted butter and plain flour on the worktop before preheating the oven.
Tipping the creamy yellow butter into a ceramic bowl, you begin to soften it with a wooden spoon before slowly adding the caster sugar and combining the two.
After sifting in the flour, you put down the spoon and use your hands to squeeze the dough, ensuring that there aren't any buttery lumps remaining.
The dough feels soft and squidgy between your fingers, and the action evokes a sense of nostalgia, as it reminds you of the texture of Play-Doh or plasticine.
When preparation for the shortbread is complete, you roll out and smooth the dough onto a shallow greased tray, dividing it into pieces two finger widths in size.
Then, pricking the surface of the dough with a fork, you pop the tray in the oven.
While the buttery biscuits bake, you decide to take this time to explore the remaining rooms of the lodge.
Through a door.
Beside the kitchen are two further bedrooms and spacious bathrooms, one with a Victorian-style clawfoot bath.
The largest bedroom is beautifully furnished with a hand-carved wooden bed frame, crisp white linens and paintings of highland scenes across the wall.
The plump white cushions are printed with red stags and ospreys, and the bed throw is green with gold flecks made from a silky chenille fabric.
You touch the blanket, It is so soft and cozy that you are half tempted to climb beneath it.
It is fully dark outside now, after all.
The aroma of the baking shortbread wafts into the bedroom, bringing you back to the present moment.
Returning to the kitchen, you realize that you can't quite describe the smell, except that it is sweet and comforting, like the aroma that emits from a village bakery as you stroll by.
Using oven gloves to protect your hands.
You remove the mouth-watering buttery biscuits from the oven and place them on a rack to cool while you prepare a mug of hot chocolate.
Then, placing two pieces of shortbread on a patterned plate, You venture into the lounge to sit by the fire and enjoy them with your delectable drink.
The book on Scottish Clans and tartan awaits on the table.
Settling down beneath a blanket in the wingback armchair, you place your feet on the footstool and begin to read.
The fire crackles and pops as you nibble a piece of the home-baked shortbread.
It is truly delicious, crumbly, sugary, and sweet.
Coupled with the rich and creamy hot chocolate, it is certainly a decadent treat for your first night at the lodge.
The warmth of the fire heats the room to an optimal temperature and you wiggle your toes in your socks.
The book you are reading is fascinating.
It tells stories of each Highland clan or family, and how they got their specific tartan.
You learn that the word tartan may derive from the Gaelic word tarchane or the French word tartarone, meaning tartar cloth.
Similar fabrics have also been found, likely made in ancient China.
You discover that the vertical and horizontal symmetrical patterns on tartan are called sets and that the fabric has been a symbol of national identity since the 17th century.
When you reach page 12, you see the lodge owner's family name. and photographs of their clan tartan.
There are ancient and modern versions of the fabric and you realize that the cushions, blankets and curtain fabric in the lodge are all made of their ancient family, tartan.
The book says that their ancestors have lived in the highlands for several centuries.
You smile, wondering what life would have been like in such rugged and wild landscapes all those years ago.
You continue reading for some time, unsure how many minutes pass as your mind is carried away by the pages of the book.
Halfway through it, with the hot chocolate and shortbread finished, you decide to pause for the time being.
You carry the plate and empty mug back into the kitchen, decide it's time to wind down for the evening.
You can see through the window that it's still snowing, and out on the deck the snow looks to be at least half an inch deep.
You find yourself wondering if by morning, there may be enough to build a snowman, even an entire family of snow people.
With pleasant thoughts of winter landscapes in mind, you head back into the lounge wondering how different the scenery will be once it's covered in a thick blanket of snow.
As winter hills and valleys fill your imagination.
You lie down, curling up on the comfortable cream sofa under the clan tartan blanket, with a cushion as a pillow, watching the flames of the fire dance.
The lamps appear to dim automatically, their senses also realizing that this is a time for you to fully unwind.
The colors from the stained glass still reflect on the walls.
As you look at the shapes moving and shifting, Your breathing slows and you find yourself becoming drowsy.
Serene slumber beckons and as your eyes begin to close, you could swear that you see a pair of antlers poking above the windowsill.
Could that be one of the deer the lodge is named for, you wonder idly.
But you are so cosy that you don't even want to investigate.
Instead, you close your eyes fully, reminiscing about your idyllic first day in Scotland.
You think of the majestic red stack, ancient clowns, beautiful scenery and crumbly buttery biscuits.
With a smile on your face, you slip into a deep sleep as the snow continues to fall outside.
And in the distance, the call of the stag echoes throughout the glen.
On this magical winter evening, in the Scottish Highlands, Let's pray.
Thanks for watching!
Thanks for watching!
Thank you.
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Thank you.
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