Fort William and Reflections on Traveling Solo

“When you’re not sitting across from someone, you’re sitting across from the world.”

I am writing this final entry from Oregon, in fact I’ve been home for exactly two weeks.  I have thought about Scotland every day, with the fondness of remembrance and the surprise of new revelations.  It’s a little harder to write a travelogue from home, though, so sadly Fort William will not receive quite as much love as it deserves, even though it is totally wonderful  and you should all go.

Fort William is nestled between Loch Linnhe and Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in the UK at 4,413 feet.  (Remember they are starting from sea level.)  It’s also at the other end of the Great Glen Way from Inverness.    As such, it is gateway to multiple recreational areas in the Highlands, including the beautiful Glen Coe and and Glen Nevis.  This being my last full day in the Highlands, I arranged another private tour with local guide Peter, who grew up in the area.  We first drove through beautiful Glen Nevis, noticing that the tippy tops of the surrounding hills, including Ben Nevis, had been sprinkled with faerie dust overnight.  We call it snow in the States but of course this is Scotland, so.  Peter pointed out filming locations for basically all the Scotland movies, as well as Harry Potter.  The road ended at a trailhead marked with an ominous sign about people falling off the trail to their deaths.  A couple of dudes were carefully reading, and photographing, the sign before setting off down the path.  Hopefully not too far, as orange sneakers and jean jackets, I fear, bode ill.

Peter shared more Jacobite history, especially about the Bonnie Prince’s journey after he scarpered from Culloden, fleeing across Scotland to the Isle of Skye.  Even though he completely bailed as his men were being slaughtered, his escape is heartbreakingly recounted in the folk ballad, “The Skye Boat Song.” (Listen to it and try not to cry.)  He made it to the Outer Hebrides, where he met  legendary Scottish heroine Flora MacDonald.  Flora sheltered the Bonnie Prince and kept him hidden from British authorities.  She ultimately masterminded his escape from Scotland by disguising him as “Betty Burke,” her Irish maid.   Peter said there were rumors they had a fling.  They were both in their twenties, attractive, hiding from the redcoats and having a dangerous adventure together, what do you think?

 

While the Bonnie Prince escaped to a life in Rome as a sad, aimless alcoholic, Flora was captured and thrown into the Tower of London.  Typical.   She was released, and later married a MacDonald, a kinsman, thus insuring that she was Flora MacDonald from cradle to grave. They had a family and emigrated to North Carolina, where they supported the British in the Revolutionary War.  Being on the wrong side of history yet again, they ended up losing their property.  They returned to Skye, where Flora lived to the ripe old age of 68.  Everyone in Scotland knows her name.  You can visit her home, her grave and a statue on the grounds of Inverness Castle.  I suppose she is depicted searching for our Charles Edward Stuart, although I’m not certain why there is a wolf.

We next stopped at the Commando Memorial, a striking sculpture honoring the unit of elite soldiers created by Winston Churchill during World War II.  Their special training was adopted by other elite military units around the world, including the US Army Rangers.

And of course, we visited the Highland Memorial, located near the Glenfinnan viaduct, which I had traversed on the Hogwarts Express days earlier.  The memorial honors the Highlanders who supported the Bonnie Prince during the 1745 rising.  Surrounding hills were framed by a yet another beautiful rainbow as I headed back to the car.

Finally, we drove down the road bisecting Glencoe, another fantastically beautiful and remote valley framed by six of Scotland’s 282 Munros.   These looked particularly serious, and indeed, Peter said he lost a friend in a hiking accident there.  Munros may only be 3,000 feet or so, but they are not to be trifled with.

Since returning, I have thought often about the Scots and their beautiful country.  My overwhelming impression of the Scottish people is their openness, humor and kindness.  Their strong connectedness to their rich and bloody history and culture (read How the Scots Invented the Modern World), and to nature and their fellow creatures.   Also, as in many European countries, they have a very relaxed sense of time.  Am I romanticizing?  Almost certainly.  Nonetheless, I’m trying to carry my perceptions with me, because they reflect how I’d like to be in the world.  Travel forces us to slow down, unless we take our frenetic American pace with us, and also imparts a sense of perspective and proportion that there’s a big wide world out there and it’s pretty silly to coil up inside our constricted sense of our own importance.

I have never done a major trip like this on my own.  So this blog was meant to be the Journal of a Woman Traveling Alone.  The thing is though, just as in my life at home, I found that I actually didn’t think about it that much.  I did notice a few things.  I learned that one’s experience of travel is very different when traveling solo. When you are with a group you create your own universe of interaction.  You experience everything together, and share experiences visually and verbally.  You talk to one another more than you interact with locals.  I felt that as a solo traveler, I was more open to anything happening, to anyone talking to me. You are, as the quote says, sitting across from the world.

When traveling with others, if you are a person who pre-worries and over-worries (ahem),  there’s an underlying layer of concern about whether your companions are okay, happy with the itinerary, having a good time, etc.  Are they hungry, would they like to stop, do they need to go to the bathroom.   Women are the worst at this.  We want to be supportive of others’ experiences, like, at all times, and if we can help, especially by giving up something we kind of want, then by all means.   We like to smooth things over, we like to soothe.  We are the great mediators.

Being alone, you are forced to do whatever the blazes you want whenever you want to do it.  You experience your travels directly, taking responsibility for your own experience, interacting with complete strangers, figuring out all the things.   Very liberating.  There’s no waiting around, or worry that you are keeping others waiting.  No one was humoring me.  There was no need to clear anything with anyone else, no need for compromise.  The phrases, “what about…” or “what if we…” or “do you want to….” never passed my lips.

One is a free agent.  You are your very own self, looking at things through your own eyes, feeling your own feelings, being your own observational genius.     Bearing witness to your own journey.  Your emotions are closer to the surface because they are outward-facing, rather than aimed toward or through a companion.  I often found myself welling up at the beauty of the scenery just because that’s what happened.  No need to say anything or seek validation by asking, “Isn’t that beautiful,”  and then being impacted, even subconsciously, by another’s reaction.  There’s a lot to be said for moving through your experience with no filters, no agendas, and none of the indigenous drama that can permeate interpersonal relationships.

The downside, of course, is missing the camaraderie of traveling with a like-minded soul, with someone you love enough to travel with, which can be such a profound experience.  On a more practical level, another person means a reduced level of travel anxiety since you aren’t on point the entire flipping time.  On the other hand, you discover that you can have some pretty fabulous camaraderie with yourself, and being on point actually makes you feel pretty badass.  Who knew.

On balance, I highly recommend it.  It doesn’t have to be a two-week extravaganza with a passport.  Take a break and head out for a solo weekend once in a while. You won’t regret it.

So it has been wonderful sharing this journey with you, and I greatly appreciate the personal feedback I’ve received, for real.  I have enjoyed writing this more than I can say, and I hope I’ve convinced all of you to consider a trip to a beautiful and magical country in any way that makes sense to you. I swear Backroads isn’t paying me for writing this, they just happen to be a great fit for me.   Find ways to travel that work with your own personal style.   Visit countries and cultures that give you a fluttery feeling inside your heart.  Spend a lot of time in the outdoors once you get there.  One thing I’ve learned from others’ well-intentioned travel recommendations is they can land with a bit of a thud.  Travel is an intensely personal experience.  Have faith that your very own adventures await.

Travel is profoundly life-changing, every single time.  Even the inevitable sucky bits. And life is short, as they say.  So begin imagining your next adventure and then make it so.

Sláinte mhaith!