At midlife, a change of scenery

Jack and Barbara Maloney quit their jobs, sold their house, parted with their grown daughters and made their way to their new home: a stone cottage in the Scottish Highlands. No matter that the walls were blotched with black mildew; they were embarking on what became a two-year adventure of shearing sheep, learning folk songs and befriending locals. The whole romantic endeavor is captured in their recently released book, "The Wee Mad Road" and at their website, www.theweemadroad.com. We tracked the wanderers down for a few questions in their St. Paul home.

Q You did what so many people dream of doing: You moved to a foreign land, not as college graduates or retirees, but in the middle of your life. Why was that the best time to go?

Barbara: We married straight out of college and had children very early, so we never had a lot of time just for ourselves. But we promised each other that once the children were grown, we'd do something special. Our "nest" was empty. So we decided to sell the "nest" and use the money to take a year or so for ourselves.

Jack: It was the perfect time to break away from the routine. At midlife, we knew we'd still have time to start over in a few years.

Q Explain your book's title, "The Wee Mad Road."

Jack: "The Wee Mad Road" is a real road. We stumbled across it once, on a vacation in Scotland. It led us to Coigach, an isolated remnant of traditional Gaelic culture with the most spectacular scenery we'd ever seen -- fields of heather sweeping down the hills to the verge of a great sea loch, white stone houses scattered like snowflakes above the tide-line.

Barbara: Neither of us has any Scottish heritage, but the place and the people touched us; it seemed almost magical. We could only stay there for a few days, but we knew we'd have to come back someday and stay there for a while.

Barbara: For all of Scotland, the people and the scenery. But for Coigach in particular, it was like Brigadoon -- a place out of time, where the hectic pace of modern life hadn't intruded, and traditional ways hadn't changed.

Jack: People our age and older spoke Gaelic as well as English, and had grown up without TV -- or even electricity. They were great storytellers, generous hosts, loved to make music and opened their homes and their hearts to us. Q What's the story you tell most often?

Jack: There are too many stories; that's why we had to write a book! One day I was at Aggie Ross' cottage, trying to memorize a Gaelic song. I didn't know the language and only parroted the words, but the old spinster had worked with me for several weeks to get the pronunciation right. Finally, I managed to get through the whole song without a blunder, and Aggie was delighted. "Oh, that was lovely," she crowed. "Your pronunciation is absolutely perfect! You sound just like a native Highlander!" Her praise warmed me better than a dram of whiskey, but it hardly prepared me for what she said next. "There's just one thing I can't understand." She cocked her head with a puzzled frown. "How is it that you can pronounce the Gaelic so well -- but you can't speak English without that dreadful American accent?"

Q When you live anywhere for two years, there must come days of frustration, boredom and longing for home.

Jack: Boredom? Never!

Q How did this experience impact your relationship?

Barbara: Coping with wild storms, strange food, culture conflicts, power blackouts, leaky roofs and lovesick sheep is a test of any relationship, but we got through it all by relying on each other.

Jack: We'll be celebrating our golden wedding anniversary this year, so I guess it didn't hurt us any!