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TRAVEL BLOG ENTRY
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“I was heading out of London on a large touring bus, bound for adventure. Adventure, however, decided not to wait until ... ” |
A day and a $40 coach ticket later, I was heading out of London on a large touring bus, bound for adventure. Adventure, however, decided not to wait until Scotland, but rather to visit me on the 8.5-hour ride there. It did this through seven or eight long-haired, smelly, extremely loud Germans clothed entirely in tight black garments that advertised the names of thankfully obscure metal bands, bands like “Anxious Rage”, “Metal Is The Beating Of My Heart”, and “We Sound Like Poop…And Smell Like It Too”.
I’d brought my iPod for just such a time as this, but while it helped with their boisterous joking, music can’t drown out the smell of stale alcohol, old cigarettes, and that distinctly herbal aroma that usually follows Rastafarians around. Did I mention the boisterous joking? The confusing part was that they kept switching languages; from German back to English back to German back to English…you get the picture. I mean maybe if I could’ve understood their jokes I would’ve enjoyed sitting two seats back from them on a cramped coach bus for nearly nine hours…hmmm, nope, somehow something tells me I wouldn’t.
After enduring the ride, Alison and her dad picked me up and we had a relaxing night back at their flat, which overlooks Glasgow’s West End. Apparently it’s the stylish, happening part of town where, unlike the East End, you don’t get randomly stabbed for wearing the wrong football (soccer) jersey or saying things like “Gosh I really love Tony Blair!” The next day, after a trip to the grocery store, we were off to find some wilderness.
Loch Lomond is the largest lake in the United Kingdom, a sinous thing stretching about 21 miles north to south. A major roadway skirts the western edge, while the eastern side boasts no such civilization; a single trail runs along it, through some of the best scenery Scotland has to offer. It was here that we found ourselves starting out early in the afternoon, a rare sunny one.
As we hiked along, remarking about how beautiful the weather was, how beautiful the lake was, how beautiful the mountains were, we stopped for a drink, and that’s where we heard it: the distinctive thumping bass of techno music. No kidding. Here we were, already a few miles into the Scottish woods, trying to get as far into the Scottish woods and away from civilization as we could for a few days, and there was techno thumping through the Scottish woods. Unreal. I mean, you get used to hearing it everywhere in Europe, at least where I’ve gone; it’s everywhere, coming from passing cars, open shops, and nurseries where small European children learn the basics of techno. But in Scotland? In the woods? Come on! Disgusting.
Following our encounter with techno, the rest of our time hiking could only get better, which it most definitely did. The scenery was nothing less than amazing, and after rounding the lake on the third day, we took a bus down the western edge, and walked back into the hills, and through a small town called Arrochar, which is nestled at the end of Loch Long, which believe it or not means “Long Lake”. The goal was a mountain called Ben Aurthur, known locally as The Cobbler. However, due to lots of sore muscles and fading daylight, we got a few miles up the side of it and set up camp for the night. After a dinner involving the rest of our pasta, we sat out on the side of the mountain and admired the nighttime scenery: the twinkling town shining on the lake below, a patch or two of stars poking through the cloud cover, and the distant whistle of a mountainside train winding along the peak flanking the lake on the other side…it was quite grand.
The next day we arose and found a truly Scottish day greeting us for our final hike. Drizzling rain turned to pouring rain as we hiked up into the clouds through driving wind, and finally summited the thing around 1 in the afternoon. Unfortunately, since we were in the middle of a cloud, the view from the top was less than scenic. However, it was still a fitting end to our Scottish adventure, and one I won’t soon forget.
previous travel blog entry
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