The first Highlands class came to the first exchange pitch. I was driving on the opposite side to what I was used to, the road was narrow and a van came to us. I slowed down too early, blocking the passage. Dario came down to drive me calmly while Mei was controlling behind. No clacson, just some gestures and time to understand.
We were in three and we had chosen a small car, soft luggage and short stages. Before leaving we had decided driving shifts, expenses and limits: no challenging roads in the dark, no pressure on those who did not feel safe, a stop every two hours. They seemed prudent rules; on the spot they became the basis of our serenity.
Mountains changing face
The landscape passed from the sun to the rain in a few minutes. A walk started with clear sky turned into a path between side wind and low clouds. We had waterproof layers, offline trace and discipline to look at us often. When Mei said the ground didn’t give her more security, we reversed the march without discussing.
During the descent we met a hiker who confirmed the worsening. Back to the car, the path had already disappeared inside the fog. The decision to return did not reduce the experience: he left us enough energy to stop us in a village, dry the equipment and listen to stories of people accustomed to that changing weather.
The overnight stay
A closed road prevented us from reaching the booked accommodation. The deviation would take hours and drive tired was not an option. We called, explained the situation and sought a closer solution. After some attempts we found three beds in a simple structure frequented by walkers.
The common kitchen was full of jackets to dry. We prepared a dinner with what was left in the backpack and talked to two cyclists heading north. That improvised shelter became one of the most welcoming places on the trip. We had lost a reservation, but avoided turning a deviation into a risky choice.
Guide as a group
On the streets at a lane, the person behind the wheel was never alone. Those who sat next read the map and spotted the pitches, who was behind controlled times and tiredness. We didn’t give overlapping directions. If the tension went up, we stopped. This collaboration has made the guide part of the journey instead of a simple transfer.
We left some afternoons free and renounced to chase every vantage point. Sometimes the best place was an empty beach found by chance; others, a short path between two rocks. The Highlands rewarded more attention than ambition.
Slow down to arrive
I came back remembering the wind on the doors and the way we wondered “how are you? ” before leaving. The trip was not a proof of resistance. It was an exercise of confidence: under conditions, within its limits and in people sitting in the same car. Slowing did not make us lose the Highlands; it allowed us to really cross them.