GLENCOE

56° 40' 58'' N – 5° 06' 35'' W

We left it to the last minute. Mathias, my roommate, threw three T-shirts and a big wool sweater into a bag and said, "Let's get out of here, I'm out of breath." The idea came up over a crazy e-aperitif with the rest of my friends. We'd all been working like robots for months. Well, except for Etienne, who was out of work. And even our social life remained confined behind screens. "Have you thought about Etienne? We're taking him on, no matter what he says!" It was crystal clear to all of us; no one was left behind.

So, we arrived in Glasgow, all guns blazing. Don't ask me why Glasgow... maybe it was the desire to dive into the dark city settings of our old video games or to experience the very British atmosphere of the trendy neighborhoods.

Étienne isn't feeling too good, so we confer and postpone the drinking party; it would be too routine. First, we'll go see the sea. Completely rushed, we set off on the road. The noisy little group we form calms down as the minutes go by as we contemplate the immense expanses that form bands of uniform color, each one lost in the vagueness. I feel my muscles relax, as if I've been blocking it all out for weeks for fear of losing control.

The moors slip past the car windows, and the mountains rising from this flatness make us pause for contemplation, exchanging only a few onomatopoeias. A vast lake opens the ground like a mirror of the sky before us. Mathias attempts a ricochet that only alters this perfection for a few seconds, as if to better reveal it. A small competition is improvised amid bursts of hilarious voices.

Late in the afternoon, while walking along the banks of Loch Leven, we stumble upon 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 and breakfast for the night gradually ruins the good mood we'd been swept into.

Antoine and Étienne talk about the padded seats of the car, Mathias imagines a tent, while I think about the damp and penetrating cold. In any case, hunger is making itself felt, and the only business still open is a sort of Scottish roadhouse in its original form.

The burger and the pint of Tennent's erase all our negative thoughts. This place ultimately seems out of the ordinary. The restaurant oscillates between a timeless record store and an old bookstore, between a delicatessen and a rustic pub. I feel a bit like I'm in the Titty Twister bar from From Dusk Till Dawn , expecting a sexy vampire to appear at any moment. In fact, it's a bit like a locals' hangout, where everyone comes as they are, without any frills.

A few strings plucked by one of those caricatured bearded guys, and the entire room vibrates to the sound of rock. Étienne doesn't need to be asked twice to grab a stool that serves as percussion. We laugh, we drink, we marvel at this out-of-nowhere complicity with the regulars. Even more so with these young people offering us hospitality at 2 a.m.

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

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