Scotland

Although I lived, studied and worked for five years in Bristol, I rarely travelled north for holidays. Usually I’d head straight to the southwest coast to surf at every given opportunity. Why would you go north? Too cold and too rainy, I thought. It was my girlfriend’s suggestion that finally convinced me to change direction. She is a nature lover and thought it would be cool to drive north to Edinburgh and spend a few days in Trossachs National Park. So that’s exactly what we did.

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It is a good seven hour trip from Bristol. We left on a summer day after work, spending the night in the car by a quiet roadside. The next day we were on the old, cobbled streets of Edinburgh. It is a strange feeling to contemplate the castle built on volcanic rock in the center of the city, or the old town’s narrow streets, where time stopped many years ago. After a few days we decided to make our way to Trossachs National Park, stopping in Stirling and Perth before reaching the mountains. We had no particular reason to stop at these towns, but were glad we did. No crowds, no stress, a nice slow life; beautiful, authentic and humble.

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We were eager to get to the mountains, and they did not disappoint. The lakes and the stillness of the water, the rolling hills decorated with trees of many different shades of green. The park consists of countless hills, mountains and lochs, centered amongst Loch Lomond. The clouds formed masses in the sky but never blocked the sun, creating darker shades on the leaves of the trees and filtering sunlight onto the water in a rare and dreamy way.

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