On the Road

Yeah, I'm running out of ideas for creative blog titles. I've also considered just numbering them, but that's probably worse than taking titles like "On the Road". I've been travelling around for three weeks now and slowly the cities are blurring into one because I never stay longer than three days.

I just had to reread what I wrote in the last post. Nottingham seems forever away to me. The city itself was really pretty, but the hostel was not the most active one. I only stayed for one night and took the train the next day towards Hathersage, a small village in the Peak District National Park. I was incredibly lucky with my Airbnb, which is owned by an old lady who even picked me up from the train station. She sat down with me and showed me her favorite walking routes through the Peak District, and because it was a very warm day, I took another walk along the river in the evening. The landscape was mostly dark stone, cows and sheep, and forest. From my room I could see into the valley where the sun was setting and the sky was turning dark. It was even hotter the next day, but my hiking route up the next mountain was all worth the effort. I walked partly through small forests that seemed magical. Countless waterfalls, moss-covered roots, stone arrangements and birdsong. Another world.

From Hathersage, we continued on to Liverpool, where I still get goosebumps when I think of the rancid hostel. I'll spare you the details. Liverpool itself was very cool though, I went with some girls in the evening to the Cavern Club, where the Beatles became famous. Someone organized a sharpie and we immortalized ourselves on the concrete walls of the club (okay, until someone writes over our names). My day trip to Manchester was unspectacular, I can't even remember what I did there.

When I finally left the hostel (two hours before my train left because I couldn't take it anymore), I was very relieved to be moving on.

My next stop was Borrowdale on Derwentwater in the Lake District National Park. I had heard a lot of positive things about the Lake District and prayed that my hostel wouldn't be as crappy as the one in Liverpool. Apparently, my prayers were answered because the Victorian mansion was extremely clean, bright, the staff super nice and I had a view of the mountains and lake from my bed. I chatted with the ladies in my room, all at least 10 years older than me, and hiked up Cat Bells mountain the next day. Actually, I not only hiked up Cat Bells, but I also hiked up the next peaks Maiden Moor and High Spy because I missed the descent trail. Of course, I had to get lost. The views were breath-taking, but then climbing down a steep mountain, having no GPS or internet reception, and desperately searching in the heat for something that might be a trail was not the highlight of my day (I did eventually find the trail, when I arrived at the hostel my hiking app said I should be proud of my 30 kilometer march and 900 meter climb). I didn't move much the next day, strolling along the lake and trying to ignore my sore muscles.

I moved on to Windermere, a town in the south of the Lake District, to meet my parents. God, it was beautiful! Family, companionship, and absolutely no responsibility for the day. I had forgotten how nice it could be to not sleep in a room with 9 strangers.

From Windermere, I headed to Newcastle, where I had a very interesting conversation with the hostel guy about veganism. After one night I finally headed north to Scotland, my first stop was Edinburgh. The old town looks like something out of a fairy tale, with turrets, tiny alleys and bagpipe music. Every other store sold Scottish clothes or was a pub. The hostel was very nice, and the people were in a good mood. In the evening we went to a pub with live music. Most of the people there were so drunk at 8 o'clock that no one could stand. One guy asked me 7 times for my name and 9 times what I wanted to drink. At some point I gave up trying to understand him and tried to explain to him with a laugh that his mumbling with a Scottish accent was no longer a language.

Yesterday I went on to Aberdeen, definitely not a good decision. Aberdeen is by far one of the ugliest cities built exclusively to the theme of "50 Shades of Grey". No joke, all buildings are the same grey and built the same way. My accommodation, some guesthouse, was once again a flop, and now I'm killing time at the train station until my train to Inverness leaves. I'm really looking forward to the Highlands, after Inverness I'm going to the Isle of Skye and back to the Highlands to Glencoe. Look forward to the next travel update!