Just back from Scotland and nearly crushed under the piles of intelligence at the office. Looks like I caught some sand under the hood while biking through the highlands. Good to know my brain unlearns so quickly what daily office routine looks like. Creates the necessary space for the real important things in life such as admiring a gorgeous landscape or enjoying good company and a nice glass of wine. But what did we learn travelling for three marvelous weeks? A great many things, I can tell you, though not so much about dance history I’am afraid. Obviously, one needs humans for dancing, and that particular species is quite rare on the Outer Hebrides. By all means much less common than, let’s say, sheep or oystercatchers. There even are lying more seals sunning on the beaches out there than local birds in bikini. Nevertheless, I promise, to give some thoughts about what we still did encounter along Scotland’s roads the next few weeks. Working title: ‘Travel diary of a dance historian’. I hope it wets the appetite. Time for a healthy dose of Oban Single Malt. Cheers!