I think I first caught the travel bug when my grandmother surprised my sister and I with a trip to visit our aunt in Scotland a million years ago. I was 15, my sister 14, and there we were wandering around the terminals of YYZ trying to figure out a way to keep ourselves busy on that 7odd hour flight. After an engine malfunction resulting in a last-minute part switch-out followed by a spontaneous lightning storm had us drumming our fingers impatiently on the hard plastic seats of the International Departures terminal for an extra two hours, we finally made it up and out of Canada and over to the land of Lassie and haggis. As my sister continued to snore loudly in the seat beside me, I popped in my headphones and set my DiscMan to "Fix You" as I gazed out the foggy window at my first sunrise at 36 000 feet. I remember watching that perfect sphere of light rise over the green hills and stretch its rays out across the rolling clouds in soft, sheer layers of purple, pink, and gold as if it were welcoming us back from the black abyss that was the night sky and thinking this was something I would never get tired of - the travelMONSTER was born!
When we landed, Uncle picked us up in his UK car that was only slightly larger than the Hot Wheels of my childhood and whisked us off to the heart of Glasgow. Driving on the wrong side of the road was fun only after a few hours of sleep, but we somehow managed to keep our boxed croissants down through all the twists and turns and death-defying maneuvers that were as standard as a cup of English Breakfast in this strange land.
Floor to ceiling windows, regal crown molding, and a secret garden shared by all inhabitants of this once-gentlemen's bachelor pad was our home for the next 2 weeks and I couldn't have been more enchanted. Days of wandering through the Royal Botanic Gardens and the shops of Glasgow followed by nights filled with Earl Grey, "The Mighty Boosh" and the laughs of drunks rolling down the street flew by, and before we knew it we were leaving the flat and heading to the mystical highlands. I felt like I was in a dream world as we darted from one Brigadoon to the next, each disappearing into the mist and moors faster than the last. We stopped on the side of the road to get a picture of the sights from sand-still and I thought I would be snatched by some woodland fairy and dropped into an adventure complete with knights, trolls, and witches.
On we ventured deeper and deeper into the mist and found ourselves at a tiny one-room schoolhouse converted into a cottage big enough for the 5 of us (but not our luggage). We were on top of a small hill surrounded by a forest - of course! In the mornings we'd have breakfast outside under the trees and then coast down the hill past the cow farms toward our next adventure. Macbeth's castle, wool farms, and the Strathisla whiskey distillery were a few of our stops before we made our way to Loch Ness. I spent the entire Loch cruise hanging over the edge of the boat hoping to catch a glimpse of Nessie but had to settle for suspicious photos in the Loch Ness museum as my Nessie connection. Edinburgh's Fringe Festival had my sister and I wide-eyed, The Elephant House where J.K. herself conjured up the wizarding world of Harry Potter was like traveling to our Mecca, and the twisting streets of a genuine medieval city had us dizzy with history and mystery. Scotland had bewitched me!
When we rolled our suitcases down the wooden steps from the second to first levels of the flat, I knew that I'd be back to this part of the world. Whenever I catch sight of my Jimmy Hat I think about the excitement, joy, wonder, and lessons I learned in Scotland and I feel like that nervously-excited 15 year old ready to embark on the first adventure she can call her own. Exploration of the past and the present, of culture and tradition are what I love to do more than anything else and I knew I'd never stop dreaming of far-off lands and the experiences I'll have in them!
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