North of the Border: A Weekend Getaway With RLS

This weekend, my husband and I celebrated a milestone wedding anniversary. My husband treated us to a 2-night break to stunning Scotland to mark this moment.

To most people, this would be an amazing chance to walk miles and enjoy traveling through counties more beautiful than the one before. But I went into panic mode.

Preparing for a long drive

From our home, it is a 7-hour journey. My husband enjoys driving. It becomes part of the holiday for him: a chance to open the car up (within driving limits!) and relax whilst negotiating motorways and encountering people who seem to be driving in their sleep!

Knowing that we would likely only make 1 stop, I had to make my legs behave for 3 and a half hours at a time. The first stint would be easily managed as I would be tired from the night before, allowing me to sleep for a good couple of hours, leaning against my pillow on the car window, snoring my head off.

We made it to the rest stop

The motorway service station came into view. There are 1 of 2 types in the United Kingdom. One resembles a gleaming mini food mall with choices of every food you could enjoy just at the end of your fingertips. The other type looks like a run-down 1970s yard sale with a mish-mash of stores that have no rhyme or reason!

At that point, I didn't care. I just needed to get out of the car, as the creepy crawlies had really set in. After using the facilities and remortgaging the house to buy a passible sandwich, the next phase of the day loomed large.

Trying every distraction in the book

Initially, I started by trying to distract my head by looking out the window. When there is so much beauty flying past the window, take note! Try taking some photographs!

Note to self: If it doesn't work when you are indoors with every type of technology available to distract your meandering brain, why would it work when you are just looking out of the window?! Think again, woman!

Jiggle your legs minimally. Try not to annoy the driver trying to get us to our destination alive. Maybe even remove your trainers.... there is a possibility that you may gas the man trying to drive the car, but it is a risk you just have to take!

When the slight toe-shifting, ankle-rotating, and foot-tapping fails to give you any relief whatsoever, then the big guns just have to come out — your bottom shifting in your seat, clenching and unclenching your gluteus maximus.

Our unplanned detour

When all else fails, get well and truly lost! After heading down the wrong turn and driving 90 minutes along this tiny, 1-car track and back, we contacted the holiday park we were staying at. We pleaded with the owner on the other end of the telephone, saying that we just couldn't find them. It turned out we shouldn't have turned off the road initially; we were 5 miles away!

Thankfully, I had distracted the creepies long enough to unpack the car, find my swimming costume, and relax. My husband found a holiday home with private hot tubs for each cabin. The one thing more or less guaranteed to banish the creepies: a hot tub at 39°C, bubbling full blast, with jets down both legs... and a glass of wine.