GLENCOE

 

56° 40' 58'' N - 5° 06' 35'' W 

It was a last-minute decision. Mathias, my flatmate, threw three T-shirts and a big woollen sweater into a bag and said "let's get out of here, I'm running out of air here". The idea had come up around a crazy e-apero with the rest of the mates. We'd all been working like robots for months. Well, except for Etienne, who was out of a job. And even our social life remained confined to behind screens. "Did you think about Etienne? We'll take him with us no matter what he says! It was clear to all of us, no one was left on the sidelines.

 

So we landed in Glasgow with all guns blazing. Don't ask me why Glasgow... maybe it's the desire to plunge into the dark city settings of our old video games, or to sample the all-British atmosphere of the trendy districts.

Étienne is not in the mood, so we get together and postpone the drinking party, as it would be too routine. First, we'll go and see the sea. Totally on the run, we hit the road. The noisy little troupe we form calms down as the minutes pass, contemplating the immense expanses that make up the uniform bands of color, each one lost in the vagueness. I feel my muscles relax, as if I'd been blocking it all out for weeks for fear of losing control.

 

The moors stream past the car's windows and the mountains that emerge from this flatness make us pause in contemplation, exchanging only a few onomatopoeia. A vast lake opens up the ground like a mirror of the sky before us. Mathias attempts a ricochet, which only alters this perfection for a few seconds, as if to better reveal it. A little competition is improvised amidst a burst of hilarious voices.

 In the late afternoon, as we drive along the shores of Loch Leven, we come across a small fishing village. It's downright deserted compared to Glasgow, and we begin to regret having ventured so far at this late hour. The fruitless search for a bed & breakfast for the night gradually broke the good mood we'd been in.

Antoine and Étienne evoke the car's padded seats, Mathias imagines a tent, while I think of the humidity and penetrating cold. In any case, hunger strikes and the only shop still open is a sort of Scottish road house in its juice.

 

The burger and the pint of Tennent's erase all our negative thoughts. In the end, this place seems out of the ordinary. The restaurant oscillates between timeless record shop and old bookshop, between delicatessen and rustic pub. I feel a bit like I'm in the Titty Twister bar from A Night in Hell, expecting a sexy vampire to appear at any moment. In fact, it's a bit of a meeting place for locals, where everyone comes as they are, no frills.

A few strings strummed by one of those caricatured bearded guys and the whole room vibrates to the rock sound. Étienne isted no time in grabbing a stool to act as a percussionist. We laugh, we drink, we are astonished by this out-of-nowhere complicity with the regulars. We're even more amazed by these young people who offer us their hospitality at 2am.

The short night didn't dampen our spirits, and we resumed our road trip around Glencoe, guided by our hosts who took us on a tour of the region's natural wonders. Later, on the way back to Glasgow, our eyes close on their own, but our heads are full of adventures, ready to relive this epic dream a thousand times over.

 

Glencoe 56'' 40' 58'' N - 5° 06' 35'' W