Honeymoon in Scotland. 1 of 2

I often forget that Fred and I are married – 

9 months now I have been Mrs Circus. 

The celebrations are not over yet, since one of our dearest Ottomar decided to treat us with honeymoon tickets to Scotland. He was really humble about the gift. However, Ottamar is definitely winning, as we got only two wedding gifts and the other one was toilet paper...

Ottomar and I had been to Scotland before (post 1 & 2). Three words that need no explaining: 

I love Scotland.

Day 1

Our trip started in summery Riga.

Here's to you bitches that can make face-planting look planned and classy:

I love Riga, since I love food! 

9,99 € = all you can eat buffet:

Aaaaaaand we landed in Glasgow 20 minutes apart.

LET THE ROMANTIC HONEYMOON BEGIN!:

All the birthdays and honeymoons needed a glass of German Sovetskoje:

This happens when Paula and I do not discuss our poses beforehand,

great minds just think alike (although some are more limber than others):

Berlin and relationships changes people,

clothes tend to fly off more easily:

Waldo is not on this picture,

but can you spot four Estonians?:

Glasgow Necropolis is absolutely stunning:

I still honestly believe that European Union rules, especially Erasmus exchange program. 

It unites people and it brought Charlie into my life!:

Everybody is posing real hard, 

but Paula casually is winning with a whole plant on her head:

Sometimes we wonder how they put up with us, but then we remember,

oh, we put up with them, so we were very much even:

Day 2

Randomly during a pee-break, I checked the whisky passports Charlie gave us

and discovered that notable distillery Blair Athol was just next to us.

Free dram of whisky and distillery tour – don't mind if I do:

A quick crash course of whisky for beginners:

As we continued to drive, mountains crew taller. 

Like here, inside there was an ordinary diner, however

outside there were astonishing scenery which looked like Frodo's backyard:

Cairngorm Mountain Railway was bitchin' and also highest mountain railway in the UK:

Hi, mom! Look, I am high!:

I got so used to with the landscape, that later on in flat Estonia 

I saw mountains everywhere thanks to clouds and my mind playing a trick on me:

The honeymooners:

I ruined perfectly awesome couple picture with my existence:

I love you with all my heart and genitals:

Ain't no mountain high enough,

ain't no river wide enough:

Influential influencers influencing

#OOTD

Try counting sheep in Scotland...

Good luck with that!

Iverness was one of the coolest places we stayed for the night.

The AirBnb host had even baked us a chocolate cake, 5 star review came with an ease:

The amount on fish and chips I ate during that week was just ridiculous:

Day 3

That day fog was hugging Scotland very tightly.

We stopped at a remote place in utter silence and that, my friends, was one blissful moment:

True stoners:

#blessed #nomakeup #fakeyogapose

Do you see that the mountain has a huge butt?

Mentally it was really difficult to hike, since I was pretty sure that I will fall into the waterfall and die, since my panic attack though it is the only possible result. However, after the narrow mountain path, the result was all worth the mind fuck:

Looking at the responsibilities that stayed behind us at home:

Day 4

The. worst. night. ever. Literally.

We had our first meeting with the only scumbag of Scotland – the midge. 

Their Estonian relative is nothing compared to them. The hell was real, but we survived:

Next stop was Oban distillery, 

where yet again boys got to smell happiness:

Locals warned us several times that the warn weather and sun was very un-Scottish

and it usually isn't warmer than Portugal:

Pleasure craft operators, one licensed the other one freelanced:

Dear colleagues, sorry for reheating seafood at work. 

Sincerely Wilma, who loves all the shit that comes out of sea, 

but just is not willing to jump in herself:

Influencer influencing behind the scenes:

To be continued...

Me, myself and I on my birthday

It was a beautiful spring day back in 1991, when my mama welcomed me into this world on backseat of a Žiguli. Yes, I was born somewhere on Tartu motorway. This explains why patience is not on my virtue list, on the contrary, I am always in a rush.

There is one day in every year, when I can stop being humble and post 18 pictures of myself in different angles, because surviving another 365 days around the sun needs some ego celebration.

I woke up like this. Seriously my lips are naturally that colourful:

You know those old ladies, who pose with their birthday flowers?

Yes, that's me now:

For me this corner was full of joy,

for Fred it was full of allergies.

Sometimes lose, always win:

THIS MELON IS ON FIRE (sing with Alicia Keys voice):

 Did not know that the picture was taken. Nevermind that I personally set up the timer and posed for this, 

I still claim that this was totally unexpected:

Despite the age, my hair growth on my head and legs is amazing:

Lilac is my favourite flower bush:

That moment when you look at Estonian Idol and all the contestants are born after year 2000...

Jaw dropper:

For my birthday I got this amazing activity watch! It analyses my sleep cycles and reads my pulse,

what a time to be alive!

Wilma is now 27, which means more expensive travel and life insurance.

YASSSS!

That is one massive blood vessel on my hand,

120 ppm running though my veins:

Enjoy those rare moments of life,

when you can see your own toes:

High fashion is born only with full bladder:

Not afraid to show my dirty laundry:

A minute on my lips, a lifetime on my hips:

Another picture to Photoshop a penis on:

My ego let my blog husband Fred on the picture.

Now I can humbly say that this post was only 99,9% about me: