Scenery and Stories

There's a difference between travelling and being a tourist and I never really noticed until this past week. My previous journeys, I have travelled in groups and been with like minded people. I have been enveloped in the culture and lifestyle of the places I have gone. But what I was forgetting about those experiences is that my tours were private. I travelled with the group I was with.

I spent the first couple of days of my half term in Edinburgh being a tourist. I went on tours of specific attractions - Loch Lomond and Loch Ness. On these tours I ran into all kinds of people, all kinds of annoying people. Tourists are the most selfish, absorbed in their own world kind of people. 

A couple weeks ago I was having a conversation at work about young people and how they think they're so worldly and cultured. The conversation was started by a coworker saying that I am not like this, but I am someone that rightfully could be. I learned first hand exactly what was meant by this when a fellow tour mate kept talking about the places she has been and the places she wants to go. What she could not tell  you though was what she learned, what she had experienced, what she gained from travelling to those places. 

This particular person made me reflect on how I am on my journeys, am I a tourist or a traveller? 

I think the key difference between the two is the immersement into culture. As a tourist you are there to see the popular sites, take some photographs and on to the next site of popularity. As a traveller you are there to learn and to experience. You take in the culture, try the foods, hear the stories. From this, I can happily say, I consider myself to be a traveller.

When I came back from South Africa, I wrote a reflection piece about story telling. All of my students had stories, good stories, tragic stories, didn't matter what kind, they had stories. I wrote of the importance, particularly as a teacher to hear those stories. But, when I was writing that piece, I wasn't thinking of myself as a person, I was thinking just as a teacher, and I never stopped to think if I had my own stories.

My next few days in Scotland were spent meeting family first the first time. This was a wonderful experience and meant more to me than words can probably express. I got to hear all of the stories of my past. And not just wee ones about who family are, but stories full of history, bringing me back to my roots. Not only did I get to hear these stories, I got to meet the people, see photographs and see the sites. There was so much family history I had no idea about, so many things my roots were involved in developing and creating, things that are still around today. My new favourite candy is something called a Hawick Ball. Hawick is the town my family grew up in, where they still reside and where I visited for a couple of days. A lady by the name of Aggie Lamb created the recipe for these candies, and she is a Great Great Great Granny of mine. 

I had a teacher last year, after her grandmother had passed away, explain to us the wonderful experience she had hearing and recording her grandmother's stories. At that time I didn't fully grasp what she was talking about. Not until I heard the stories of various extensions of family. 

I started my half term meeting family for the first time, knowing very little, and ending it a couple days later feeling like I have known them for years, and can definitely call them family.

By spending time with my family, I was able to experience the traditional culture and food. I tried Haggis and Black Pudding, both of which are absolutely delicious, also drank a lot of Irn Bru. On top of the adventurous foods, I learned a whole new language, from each part of Scotland I visited. 

Overall, I had two absolute favourite parts. The first was stopping at Scott's View. Scott's view was a spot favourited by a famous writer, his thinking spot. As I stood there taking in the scenery, the incredible colours of the Autumn trees, snapping photos, my Uncle began to play the bagpipes. For the first time, I didn't want to take pictures of what I was seeing. Instead, all I could do was sit there and take in the moment, reflect on where I have been and where I am going. Listen to the sounds coming my from Uncle's bagpipes, as well as the sounds of nature. At this moment I was at peace. There was nothing but happiness brought to me, nothing but confirmation that you are in the right place and nothing but solitude. I am a lover of scenery, but of scenery with water in it. Although there lays a small river through Scott's view, this was a view of trees and mountains. A view I became completely enthralled with during my time in Scotland. 

This feeling of contentness also came about while driving through rolling hills and farmland of the borders. These roads go right through farmers field, are windy and full of sheep, however, they are absolutely stunning. For 99% of the time, it was just us and the sheep on the road, but what ever direction you looked in there was something to see, something to smile about. Mountains, water, sunshine, incredible views. At one point my Uncle said "Just wait until we get around this corner", we turned the corner and there was one of the most beautiful sites I have ever seen. I will never forget what I saw, or the breathtaking feeling it gave me.

From these two experiences, I have learned how to appreciate small things, and it really made me appreciate the view of my cottage, or downtown Oakville with the lake. You forget what you have in your backyard when it's always there, but when you see someone else's and as stunning as it may be, you remember what you get to look at everyday as well. 

This journey was concluded with an adventure on the train home, which for the first time in my life, I did not plan step by step by step, but went with the flow. I loved it. But, as I continued on this journey, and arrived in Stevenage, I grabbed a taxi home, but I still felt like I was travelling, I was just coming to my next stop. Even as I unlocked my front door, came up the stairs and unlocked my bedroom door, I still had a feeling of being on tour, it wasn't until I got into bed at night, I got the feeling of this place being my home.