All right. I promised I’d explain it so I will. But only briefly.
The name of my first real love, as opposed to mere teenage infatuations, was Rado Glaic. (Actually the forename on his documents was Radovan, but we all called him Rado – the way we declined it was very interesting, but not to you. What might be interesting even to you was his habit of cutting the forename in two and signing as Rado van Glaic.) He’s straight but that was never something to stop me from falling in love. He’s one of the guys I’ll probably love forever, although I have hardly seen him ten times in the last twenty years.
For once, I’m more concerned about his surname. Since the 1990s I knew from a magazine or something like that, called The Islander, that there existed a place of that name somewhere in the mainland part of Skye and Lochalsh. I was exhilarated when during our journey to Skye in August ’10 I suddenly saw a road sign reading A’ Ghlac / Glaick. I was even more exhilarated when on our way back I managed to take a snap of its opposite number.
I was somewhat less exhilarated when some time after the tour I found out that although the magazine did use the spelling Glaic, not just the road sign but also both the Ordnance Survey and Mac an Tàilleir spelled this particular one as Glaick, while the OS knew a Glaic – but in Argyll, overlooking the place where the Kyles of Bute and Loch Striven meet. I shrugged it off. Throughout history either must have been spelt in more than one way…