#13: Hiking the West Highland Way
Scotland: How I learned to stop worrying about views and love the land
Somewhere near the end of the Summer of 2018, I found myself on the West Highland Way in Scotland. The trail covers 154 km from close to Glasgow to the start of the Scottish “highlands”. If you Google the trail, you will come way with the impression that it is one of the most beautiful trails in the world, one of the most challenging,…so many superlatives Travel bloggers. Hmph!
The truth is that the trail is…okay. The views are quite good, but an average day in the Alps probably has better views than your best day along the WHW. A bad day in the Himalayas is probably better than both.
You don’t go very high, and you don’t go very far. Instead of wildlife, there are fifty thousand other hikers and tourists. There are midges everywhere. You are never under the illusion that you are far from civilization; there are campgrounds, bars, and pubs everywhere.
So, why do I still look back on this experience with a smile? Let’s see.
You don’t go very high, and you don’t go very far. What this means is that you can walk at your own pace. The mountains aren’t forcing you to do things you normally wouldn’t. I walked the distance in five and a half days, which included one day of being lost for a few hours. It didn’t need to be a challenge, but it became one for me only because I willed the challenge into being. You can go slow if you want, and you can go fast if you like.
An average day in the Alps probably has better views than your best day along the WHW. This is true, but you know, Scotland’s weather does have its own charm. You don’t predict…you just learn to play with the clouds you’re dealt.
If you spend more than half your time in the sun, consider yourself lucky. A gentle rain throughout the day, the sun peeking out once in a while, the shiny green grass, the sheep, the gentle inclines, all in service of a pleasant albeit illusory emptiness. This makes for an experience very suited to simple contemplation. At the very least, you’ll realize it’s not all about the views, or how many kilometres you did in a day. The effort itself is pleasure.
There is hardly any wildlife to speak of, and there are fifty thousand other hikers and tourists. The lack of wildlife is indeed quite sad. I was told that Ye olde Scottish hunters killed all the birds and animals that used to roam these lands. As for the people, a large number of hikers means there is no dearth of interesting characters.
From impassioned conversations about Donald Trump with a young couple from Florida to discussing blisters with a seventy year-old Indian uncle on his millionth hike, there was never a dull moment on the trail. On the last two days, I hiked with a Spanish guy who showed me all the “carnivorous plants” along the way. He told me more about the mating habits of toads than I ever wanted to know. With his friend from Barcelona, I spent hours talking and learning about Yoga, Buddhism, and the parallels between Catalonia and Kashmir.
There are campgrounds, bars, and pubs everywhere. Well, now I feel silly for putting this in there as a negative. Who ever complained about too many pubs?
Haggis, whisky, beer, pies, and eggs in various forms were probably all consumed on any given day. Haggis was quite interesting, though I never really understood what it was. Blood sausage maybe? Scottish pies were nice, but I didn’t understand the fascination with boiled peas. They were everywhere. Is this what passes for vegetables in the UK?
I’m no expert, but the whiskey was great. I learned that Scottish whisky is best had with no ice, and just a drop of water. Really great. In one restaurant, when I asked the waiter if I was supposed to drink the beer that he gave me before or after the whiskey, he told me to drink them at the same time, because they complement each other’s taste.
Because there were campgrounds all along the trail, I never camped in the wild. I still regret this decision, made more out laziness than anything else. Wild camping is legal everywhere in Scotland.
The midges. Nothing positive to say about these guys. If you’re going to do the trail, be prepared for the weather of course, but also to deal with these pesky insects.
I actually went into the trail assuming midges were flies. One night, I was camping close to the Bridge of Orchy (a famous, but unspectacular bridge on the trail), and I left my tent open when I went to get dinner. When I came back after unhealthy portions of whisky, beer, and pie, the inside of my tent was covered with these tiny assholes. They tortured me! They got in my eyes, my underwear, my armpits, my nose,… I’ve never had a problem with mosquitoes or flies, but fuck midges.
I finished the hike quite quickly; maybe too quickly. Did I need to? No. Did it hurt? Yes. Do I regret it? No. I could have climbed Ben Nevis – Scotland’s highest hill – on the last day, but I did not because it didn’t seem like enough of a challenge to spend another day walking in the rain.
I took a train back to Glasgow, and smiled to myself as we passed the lake I had just walked along tired and campsite-hunting just a few days ago. Five-and-a-half days of walking one way, and two hours in a train the other.
On one of the days, it was raining pleasantly, and I was walking confidently. There was an old Norwegian couple, who I kept meeting throughout the day. We talked about the deer we saw occasionally, but mostly we smiled a lot.
Later in the day, I was completely alone. It was still raining, and the trail was flanked by open space as far as I could see. The sky was completely grey, and my face was completely wet. I didn’t miss snowy peaks or crazy views. I was a part of the landscape. No boundaries.
" I was a part of the landscape. No boundaries." Similarly these blogs need more spread and reach all without boundaries. Give more publicity to blog. Let others know.
You don’t predict…you just learn to play with the clouds you’re dealt.
Enjoyed it too much to give any other feedback. Am already biased.