At the end of April, and the start of May, my mother, brother, and I, all walked the 97 miles of the West Highland Way in Scotland. And ohmygoodness, I loved it! I find that I’m actually so sad to be back home right now because I sorely miss the sheer freedom that I felt just being on that hike.

I was actually so nervous on the run up to it because of my history with Bartholin Cysts, which led to me becoming unbearably anxious about having a health flare up again. Especially because I have a cyst right now – have had it since March. Luckily, other than being a constant nagging worry in the back of my mind, it otherwise didn’t affect me and I was able to thoroughly enjoy myself during the hike.

Scotland was unbelievably kind to us as well during our time there, and blessed us with the absolute perfect hiking weather the entire way: we had brilliant sun with vibrant and fair skies and a strong, welcome breeze that kept us cool during the long days of walking.

It was such a fun experience, which came in no small part because of the many people that we met along the way. There were people from all over the world walking the West Highland Way and it was such a joy hearing all the different languages as we were passing each other, or when we sat down to a filling meal in the evening together. We made friends with people from all over the world: Ireland, France, Italy, Germany, Sweden, the United States, Canada; just so many different people who were all just so happy to be there. Everyone was so supportive of each other and we were all smiles. People we met when we first set off, we bumped into again on route, and we all lit up like Christmas trees when we found each other at the end in Fort William.

And it turns out that we really were rather blessed with the weather we had because one person we met was walking the West Highland Way for the eleventh time, and he said that this was the first time that he’d seen the sun! The weather couldn’t have been more perfect for our first attempt.

And when it did rain, it was welcome: a light and refreshing spray that kept our overheating bodies cooled as we scrambled and picked our way along the rugged, up-and-down-and-up-again path on the banks of Loch Lomond. When we pushed on from the loch, we were treated to breathtaking views of rolling hills and climbing mountains, of sprawling woodlands and browning, scratchy moors. The other lochs that we passed were of such a deep and rich blue that I felt that we were looking at the sea more times than not, especially when the waters could be rough and broken one moment, and then calm and peaceful the next.

I was so happy to find that I felt as though I was actually somewhere in Middle Earth and on a little adventure of my own. Being out there, I was quick to leave my everyday worries and problems behind me at the side of the path very early on. Walking for that long and going so slow? There’s something incredibly freeing about it.

A trainline ran some of the way with us and we could sometimes hear and see the road as well. I realised that what could be a short, few minute car or train ride to reach our destination, took us the whole day walking. I felt as though I was returning to some kind of primitive and old way of life and I’ve realised that I miss that feeling quite badly now that I’m home.

Everything felt less rushed and less chaotic and the slower pace that we travelled at meant that we had the peace of mind to stop for a moment – whenever we wanted – and take a look around. Take a breather and see just how far we’d come. The notable lack of technology, I think, did us all the world of good as well because we weren’t being distracted by pinging notifications, and neither were we connected to every single thing happening in the world, either.

I felt more at peace than I had in a long time.

We all know too much about each other. Our brains weren’t built to process the enormity of the entire world. Humans are social creatures, yes, but social in a smaller way; social in a way that our ancestors were: living and working together in contained, friendly communities. Not social in the way that I now know what’s happening on the other side of the world.

I think that we’re all spread too thin, and it’s starting to show in the cracks straining modern society.

Hiking the West Highland Way and not keeping up with the news was a very welcome escape. And a much needed one at that, too: I’d almost forgotten that just living is the entire point. Life is not about the rush and humdrum of modern society and not about the demands of deadlines and the endless rat race; life is for living. And, cringey as it may seem to say, but I think I’ve really realised – though it did take me a while – that I’ve realised just how powerful, and just how healing, nature is.

A simple breath of fresh air really is an unbeatable doctor, and the great outdoors really is a dependable friend.