There are puddles of mud that threaten to spill over the top of your hiking boots, sheer drops into the pools below and more people than you have seen in the previous 8 days combined. Then… the heavens open. Struggling along the pathways becomes even harder as crowds retreat to their cars and your stubborn arse refuses to turn back. You are but a pebble trying to stand its ground against the strong incoming wave.
It does not make a blind bit of difference.
To your right are the Fairy Pools of the Isle of Skye. Further afield the towering Bruach na Frìthe and Sgùrr nan Gillean mountain peaks overlook the scene. Clouds roll over these monoliths and there is a sense of foreboding in the air. Yet your eyes search out the next cascade of water.
Something is pushing you on through the furor. Is it your constant quest for awe-inspiring scenes? Is it your stubbornness to tick items off that ever growing bucket list?
Maybe. Perhaps.
Neither or both. It really doesn’t matter.
You are here. Finally walking the landscape you’ve only ever witnessed online and it’s everything and more just to be here. It is everything to be outside hiking and enjoying moving your muscles and your body overcoming the pain it’s been experiencing in the throws of sciatica to keep going. This kind of movement isn’t punishment because you are living in a bigger body. It’s a reminder that despite your size you can do this. Despite your fear of sliding in the mud and tripping on rocks you still turned up and set your mind to do it.
Reaching the top of the pools with the rain lashing down you give a slight nod to yourself and how far you’ve come both geographically and physically. The crowds have dispersed and only the brave (or stupid) have continued. There is laughter in the air at the absurdity of it all. Why are we all drenched to the bone in this wilderness?
It is stunning. The sound of the water is very faint and almost lost in the deafening wind. Your hooded coat also blocks the sound from reaching your ears. It doesn’t matter. The vivid blues and greens on the riverbed shine like something from an alien planet. And you are reminded there and then that this is our planet. These are the sights that remind you of that fact. That this planet is beautiful and still harbours unbelievable wonders should you take a moment to go and hunt for them.
With every retracing step back down the hill, you take a moment to glance over the river and the different colours glittering up through the water as it ambles over the Scottish rock. There are purple heathers and tall yellow and green grasses. The river is not straight. It has not obliterated the terrain away. It has only ambled its way without any kind of plan. Occasionally there is evidence of a rock slide but where it has settled mosses and other fauna have sprouted. Starting new life and colour. The weaving of this river makes it impossible to see from one end to the other in one sweep. You need to appreciate each plunging pool and rapid movement as a singularity. In this way you can value every step and view. It changes and that’s okay. Take of that as you will.
Simply put, this is a river flowing down from a mountain. And you’re feeling happy.
That’s what travel does. Enlightens and inspires. It brings us back to basics and opens us up to everything we take for granted. That’s what I felt at those pools. There were no fairies. No magic. Just me, the mountains and my realisation that no matter my size, ability or thought process, I can wake up, get going and witness all the beauty around me.
The links for the itinerary and recap of this day are below. I hope one day you experience this magical route for yourself.
Framework Travel 