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Write your plans in pencil
Inverness, UK
Sitting on a secluded pebbly shore of the Loch Ness, Northern Scotland, I unroll my sleeping bag, stoke the fire and watch the sparkles on the water as the sun disappear over the horizon. My mind is clear, but I can't help thinking of a person I met that day, she was telling me about her adventure she had ahead of her, it was planned to a tee. From the hostel she was staying in, to the bars she had researched which would provide the best 'adventures' it was all planned and sounded fine if spontaneity is a no-no.
I've taken to travelling a little differently in the last few years. At times it has been disastrous, at times scary, but mostly it has been amazing, confronting and fun. And it has always left me with a wider perspective and great memory to draw upon. I began seeking unplanned experiences like my campsite on the Loch after I was forced to spend a night under a windmill. About two years ago, on my first trip to Europe I had planned to meet a friend in Amsterdam and had one night to kill. Spontaneously I hopped on a train to Bruges, Belgium. It just so happened to be a national holiday and every hostel, hotel, motel, BnB and campsite had been booked out for weeks. After having a minor emotional breakdown I locked my bag in the train station lockers and went into the centre of town. My plan was to 'pull an all nighter', so after checking out the amazing canals, eating some world class chocolate and waffles I headed for a pub. Within an hour I was sharing a beer with the owner of the pub and having a forgettable discussion about the logistics of running a bar. He bought me and some other English backpackers a round of local beers, heralding Belgium beer 'the best in the world'. I had a game of pool with the backpackers who then invited me to a club. Having done the math and realising it was still about 8 hours till the sun would come up and I could get a train back to Amsterdam I agreed and went with them, hoping the club would stay open all night. Sadly, I had no such luck and eventually got the boot at about 3am. It was raining! Everyone disappeared behind closed doors faster than I could say 'Do you have a spare couch?' I walked around the streets thinking of my warm bed back in Australia. Within half an hour I was feeling really miserable and looked even worse. In the distance I saw one of those stereotypical Dutch windmills. I climbed up the stairs and tried to open the door, but it was locked so I settled for the shelter it provided on the ground. Without a doubt one of the most miserable 3/4 hours of my adult life. When the sun finally rose, I walked bleary eyed and irritably back to the station, hoped on my train back to Amsterdam and fell asleep.
My mind continued to return to that night, the people I met, the sense of unknown and spontaneous nature of the whole thing. I even thought about my bedding under the windmill and just how uncomfortable it was, but instead of cringing I smiled and laughed at myself, not to mention when telling the story to fellow travellers, friends and family. I also listened to other peoples stories and it really seemed that the ones people held on to were the uncharacteristic ones, the often uncomfortable and unexpected stories that came from such experiences.
Something in me had changed, I didn't find myself wanting to go with the crowd as much, or stay in hostels people had recommended or try to have the same experience that someone else had had. Now I wanted my travels to take me to unexpected places with unknown outcomes. Most recently I have been living and working in London. I had a week of holidays and wanted to go to the Scottish Highlands, but money was limited. A friend and I hired a car which we thought could easily double as accommodation and headed north. Our first night was spent in a car park out the front of a Holiday Inn. It was not as uncomfortable as you'd think and we chatted and joked until we fell asleep. The next day we visited the battle grounds of William Wallis and Robert The Bruce- The history in Scotland is incredible and these two sights made me feel truly minute in the scheme of the history of the world, a real injection of perspective.
Next we winded our way through the highlands up to Inverness, stopping every few miles to get another breathtaking photo of this rugged and beautiful countryside. We couldn't find any non-ticket parking in Inverness so my mate called the local hostel and asked if anyone was parking in there spots, there wasn't and that meant we had our second sleeping spot for the night. At the local pub we tried Haggis, which was actually delicious! We got talking to a local who gave us directions to the the Loch Ness and advised we head up to the most northern point in the UK which was only a couple of hours drive. One local got deeply upset at me when I asked 'what exactly is a single-malt whiskey?' To which she replied 'NEVER ask a Scot what a single malt whiskey is, a malt is a malt!' 'Right, silly me' I thought and smiled at my mate.
The next day we went for a swim in the Loch Ness, which is as cold as it is beautiful, but we both needed a bath so we fought through the stinging cold. Here we met a local who had been living on the lake for 20 odd years with the sole intention of spotting the Loch Ness Monster. 'Nessysary research lab' was written on the side of his broken down camper van. I wondered if he had any regrets about taking up such a career path? Subtly we asked him, while buying one of his 5 quid clay monsters which fund his 'research.' He assured me that not for one moment did he ever regret his decision, irrespective of his absurd objective. 'What a cool bloke' I thought.
On our way further north, we stopped in at a genuine Scottish Whiskey distillery where I finally had my question about the single malt answered. Apparently it is whiskey that only uses one type of grain, who would've thought? Driving along the coast of the North Sea, my mate couldn't wipe the smile of his face. He is a history teacher and as this area is littered with old Celtic and English castles and ruins, he was in heaven. We made it to the top which was not as impressive as the drive to it. After some searching we found a secluded beach to spend the night. The beach we found had an abandoned old castle at the other end of the bay and was littered with WW2 relics. There was lots of drift wood so we build a little fire and shared a genuine single malt whiskey in this, a little slice of heaven. I was amazed at the waves rolling in. It was a perfect left hand point break with clean 4ft waves breaking off it. As a keen surfer, I couldn't help but think that this wave had probably never been surfed, and if I ever came here again I'd bring my board. Just as the tide was coming in and sun was disappearing a little head popped out of the water about 25m from our fire, it was a curious little seal. The next day I asked a local if anyone ever surfs here, he said no never because occasionally killer whales come in to chase the seals. 'Right' I thought 'fair enough.' The next day my mate got a bus back to London, but I stayed on few extra nights. I found the Loch Ness incredibly beautiful so decided to head back down there. After fighting my way through the bush I made it down to the shore ofa secluded area. This was my spot, I made a little fire, read my book and thought about just how amazingly fortunate I was to be in that place at that time.
The point of this recount is to show you a real positive side of writing your plans pencil, not pen. Have ideas, but leave yourself open to changing them completely or just writing them as you go. Keep your head on and don't do anything too blatantly dangerous or stupid and you will never regret a thing because every experience you have, person you meet or place you go will just seem like a bonus. The most miserable night of your life could end up being something you cherish and take away with you as a truly character building experience.
- comments
Peter Beautifully written. This article should be published in a Travel magazine. Looking forward to the next one.