Scotland, or Alba, as increasingly few of its inhabitants call it, is a fascinating country, for political and cultural reasons and, most importantly, because it sports a beautiful, unique, and largely rather sparsely populated countryside. It is also a place I have wanted to visit for some years—I would have gone last year, if I hadn't ended up in the USA. This year, however, I went there. And loved it.
The organization that got me to the Highlands is called Fahrten-Ferne-Abenteuer (FFA), which roughly translates to journeys-distance-adventures, but sounds a lot more elegant. They're in the business of providing teenagers with exciting camps and adventurous trips to other countries, all in the manner of the scouting movement. I wasn't one of these teenagers, I was one of the people leading and coaching them.
After spending a number of days in London, Edinburgh, and our coach, getting to know each other and the equipment (for the most part, that means “tents”), the three groups we had created selected their routes for the hike everyone had been waiting for. Each group was to start off at a different place on the Isle of Skye Friday afternoon, and meet up in Portree Tuesday morning. My group, seven young lads, between 16 and 18 years old, chose the longest and certainly most scenic route, a beautiful trip that many of the younger participants would probably have had great difficulty with.