Travel

Travel Diary // London and Scotland

“Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things – air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.”
– Cesare Pavese

My new life goal is simply to walk the world.

There is no substitute for feeling cragged rocks shift beneath your feet, feet and rocks soaking wet in water cascading down a mountain side. There is infinite joy in being warmed and dried by the light of a golden sun peeking out from behind a curtain of thick grey clouds for just a few perfect moments, miraculous after being blown about and pelted for hours with cold, sharp rain drops and a wind that chills through your skin until all that keeps you moving forward is the thought of a warm fire to melt in front of once you reach your destination. There is humility in standing in the shadow of a mountain, far below its unyielding and steadfast facade, a bulwark warning off those who would try to conquer it. And there is strength in finding yourself at the top of the world, the exertion of the climb invigorating and life-affirming, gazing on the infinite beauty that stretches far beyond what is visible to the eye, but not nearly as far past what the mind can imagine will be greeting you just beyond the next hill on your path.

We arrived in London before making our way to Glasgow and then up into the highlands of Scotland. With no expectations, we hoped that our bodies were up to the challenge of walking 15-20 miles a day on the path of the West Highland Way. We walked just barely more than half of the 96 mile winding trail, through forests, glens, pastures, moors, and mountains, from Crianlarich to Fort William. I hoped by the time we reached Fort William three days later we’d be glad for some time off our feet, so we booked seats on the real-life Hogwarts Express for a ride up to the seaside town of Mallaig, a journey that took us over a breath-taking viaduct and past lochs and isles made lonely by water and distance. And while my feet were grateful to let the train take on the miles, my heart was not oblivious to the difference between being out in the world, taking in rich air and scenery with breath and eyes, versus taking in the views alone from behind a soot-smeared window.

And so it goes for these photos too. Sharing a picture, while it may give a glimpse into this remote, vast, and incredibly special place, does not come close to doing it justice by way of beauty, scale, experience, or emotion. It is much like viewing it through a window. And while I’ll always be grateful for windows, that let in light and may inspire dreams of being out in the world, I want to always remember that it will never be the same, or even a substitute, for having all of my senses present and really there.

Here’s London and Scotland, places I’ll treasure forever.