Scotland Part 2 & Goodbyes

Next stop: Bridge of Orchy to begin our hike across the Highlands. Anyone who knows me knows that, as much as I really love train rides, I can never force myself to stay awake on them. So, naturally, I napped on our way to Bridge of Orchy. All of a sudden, my mother shook me awake to inform me we had arrived. So, confused and groggy, I hurried off the train and tried to wake up. My mom took one look at me and said: “WHERE’S YOUR SUITCASE?” …… Yep, it was still on the train. I rushed back but the door had shut. I frantically tried to pull it open and then felt a little silly when my mom pressed the button and it opened for me. I grabbed my suitcase and hurried off again, only to have the doors shut right on me. The train was preparing to leave! Luckily, a random person opened the door for me and I jumped off just in time. Won’t let that happen again.

So, onto the hiking. I should make something clear if I haven’t done so already. This photo pretty much sums up how I feel about hiking and strenuous physical activity in general:

 I mean, in theory I think it’s great. But my body just does not like it. Don’t get me wrong, I can walk on flat ground all day and not get tired. I grew up in the prairies after all. But throw in any kind of incline, be it stairs or a hill (or god forbid: a mountain) and I’m struggling.

Nevertheless, I thought it would be a good idea to hike for seven hours across the Scottish Highlands, covering 19.6 km (12 miles for you non-Canadian types), which may not seem like much, but when you’re on a bumpy path that goes up and down and up again, it’s more than enough.

So, we woke up in Bridge of Orchy to begin our hike. I think my body was more aware of what it was about to experience than my mind was, because during breakfast I was overcome with a bout of extreme nausea and dizziness that, unfortunately, had not completely passed by the time we needed to leave. But, stubborn as usual, I insisted on going anyway. So we started the hike. Very, very slowly. I kept stopping along the way, trying to make my stomach calm down and my head stop spinning, which was difficult considering all the exertion necessary to walk uphill only exacerbated the issue. But I kept going, and eventually that feeling went away. Not to say the rest of the hike wasn’t a struggle. My very capable mother could have done it so much more quickly if it I hadn’t been dragging her down. But even though I had the option to stop in a town along the way and give up on the hike, I decided to push through, and after 7 hours of beautiful landscapes and trying times, we made it to Kingshouse. I could not have been happier. Almost as soon as we arrived I sat down in a comfy chair in the hotel lobby and fell immediately asleep. I was more exhausted than I’d ever been, but I felt like I’d really accomplished something, all the more significant considering how difficult it was for me. Plus, I got to see the gorgeous Scottish highlands. Needless to say I slept well that night.

The next day was devoted to Glencoe, another one of the most beautiful places in Scotland.

We  spent the day walking around and hiking. My legs were more than a little bit sore from the day before so we took it easy. We did some walking and hiking, but not too much. Oh, and I climbed a tree, in a manner of speaking.

Hengen out

Then following day, my mother’s birthday, was put aside for more hiking in the Highlands. My mother, fit as she is, was ready for it. I, on the other hand, realized I might not be up for a repeat of two days ago. So, I elected to sit that one out. I took a bus from Kinlochlevin, the town where we had stayed that night, to our next stop, Fort William, and waited for my mother there. I can’t say I was really disappointed with how the day turned out. I couldn’t check into the bed and breakfast yet when I arrived, so I enjoyed a solitary walk on the shore.

This was across the street from our bed and breakfast

I spent the day wandering around Fort William. I even challenged myself to walk up a few hills. All in all a good day.

Then we moved on to Loch Shiel and Glenfinnan, a popular destination for Harry Potter fans (so in other words, everyone). We saw the Glenfinnan Viaduct, across which Hogwarts students travel twice a year in the Hogwarts Express. We also spent some time walking along the shores of Loch Shiel, which served as Hogwarts’ Black Lake in the films.

Just flying with Buckbeak

This was all very cool for us as Harry Potter fans. But all of that aside, it was still very beautiful. Have I said that before? That’s because everything in Scotland it beautiful.

And we hadn’t even seen the most beautiful parts yet. Our final days in Scotland were spent on Isle of Skye, a stunning mountainous island outlined by one single lane road. It made for some pretty nerve-wracking driving for my poor mother, who didn’t get to see as much of the island as I did.

The Old Man of Storr

Beams of sunlight

We stayed a lovely. comfortable little bed and breakfast called Seaforth Cottage, owned by a little old Scottish man called Ian, who took great care of us and more importantly introduced me the delicious breakfast food that is the tattie scone. There we met Caio and Julia, a couple living in Erlangen right outside of Nürnberg, Germany, who offered to have me stay with them anytime (I took them up on this a month later and found them to be the best hosts I ever could have imagined).

After a couple days on Skye, we were ready to head home. We made our way back to Fort William, crossing Glenfinnan Viaduct in the process. In Fort William we caught an overnight train that would get us to Preston at 4 AM. Despite the fact that we were in seats and not beds I managed to sleep for the majority of it. We made it back to Preston tired but happy. My mother flew home a couple days later.

Once the excitement of the Scotland trip was over, it hit me that the semester was about to end. I only had a couple weeks of class left. Realizing this, my friends and I spent as much time as possible together, filling the hours with movie nights, potluck dinners at Sophie’s, Quids night at Adelphi, barbecues, and Tuesday nights at Warehouse. These are some of my favourite memories of Preston. We had a gala-themed going away party at Roper Hall in which we all dressed to the nines and celebrated as one big group for the last time. Another memorable night started off with frozen yogurt with the girls, followed by tapas dinner, finished off with another late night round of frozen yogurt. Next thing I knew, the goodbyes began. This was more difficult than I ever could have imagined. It was the end of May when I said the first of my goodbyes and a month and three days ago when I said the last of them, yet I still miss Preston and the people I met there every day. Those months were some of the happiest of my life.

But enough of that sad feely stuff. I had a blast and I’m already starting to think about saving up to cross the Atlantic once again. As Clara said to me, “life just started to go crazy.”