Perhaps what defined this roadtrip for us was that we had no idea where we were going beforehand or any definite timetable. There was just one word: Scotland. There were initial plans to sightsee in Edinburgh, or go catch a movie somewhere between here and there; but unknown reasons put paid to those plans. The excuse was that we could come up to Edinburgh at anytime to see the sights and as for movies, well... even Lancaster has a cinema or two! The game plan was to do things we couldn't quite get to do otherwise.

And so the game plan was, move towards the general direction of where we were supposed to be sleeping that night, but any side road worth taking was to be taken. Ayu, who was visiting from California, was to drive. Grace, currently based in London, was 'in charge of the kitchen'. Our navigational tools consisted of a large map six years outdated, and a map-reading co-pilot who could barely tell the difference between left and right.

Day One's target was to reach our lodgings at Dunfermline at a reasonable hour. Having only gotten on our way from Lancaster at a little past midday, we had no idea what 'reasonable hour' meant. Lodgings wise, for the first night, we took up the Travelodge option.

Outward Bound

Travelodge's business plan is unique. They do away with the frills, and yet still provide you with a comfortable enough en-suite room to overnight in. The clincher is that unlike most other establishments that charge occupants on a per-head basis, Travelodge's rates are on a per-room basis. But what is even better is that if you book 21 days or more ahead, you could get a family room that sleeps 3 adults or 2 adults and 2 kids (officially lah, we Malaysians can't count very well, I am told) for a mere 10. The next step up in price scale is if you book at least 7 days in advance you stand to pay just 26: which works out to less than 9 each on a 3-sharing basis, which is pretty cheap considering cramped youth hostels without en-suite bathrooms offer rates beginning at 11.

The catch is, most Travelodges are located out of the public-transport paths, often just outside motorways so unless you're driving, it's probably not worth it. But if you do have your own set of wheels, it's well worth planning a getaway just based on where there are rooms for a tenner, I think.

Our first detour happened a mere hour into the trip just off Carlisle. There was a signboard that offered a scenic alternative tourist route: with camera firmly around neck, what were we if not tourists? This route took us through Dumfries and Galloway, via the town of Galashiels. What was so special about Galashiels? We had and still have no idea. It was just that it kept appearing on the signboard a lot. The view, we thought at that point in time, was spectacular. Waves and waves of green all over the landscape, dotted with sheep and other farm animals of undeterminable species. But there were more scenes to come that would totally take our breaths away.

We managed to get an earlier start the next day mainly because we had to check out of the hotel rooms before eleven. The initial plan was to go into Edinburgh to check out the city: in my many years here I have only passed through this historic city once, and plans to chill out there during the Festival in August last year was put paid by security alerts post 7/7. Torrential rain put paid to yet another attempt to visit this city, and instead we had to decide what to do and plan to be in Glasgow by nightfall.

Grace and Ayu wanted to drive through mountain country, and a quick look at the map gave us random route number 2: we would drive up towards Perth, and then cross over to Fort William on the west side of the country before traveling down via Loch Lomond into Glasgow making sure that we passed Glencoe and Ben Nevis, Scotland's highest peak.

We drove past what I thought was the best town to pronounce in a fake Scottish accent: Killiecrankie. It didn't take long after we turned off the motorway to suddenly feel like we were in a different country. Mountains in the background; clear, sparkling lochs in the foreground the view was a world apart from anything I'd seen before. The magical thing about lochs was how still the water was, and how clear. On a sunny day you could see a brilliant reflection of the skyline in the water. Many a time I made Ayu stop for one reason and one reason only: I wanted to take pictures. Thankfully the Scots had probably met one mad tourist too many like myself, and conveniently provided laybys every few meters where we could park and just absorb the isolation. It had stopped raining by then.

(I always thought lochs were just Gaelic for lakes, but in actual fact, lochs can either be lakes or a sea inlet. Loch is Gaelic for a body of water, and Gaelic is the Celtic language spoken in parts of Scotland. There you go, useless fact for the day.)

On a whim we took a detour into the small town of Blair Atholl which housed Blair Castle. Again, we had no idea what that was about, except that the name Blair sounded distantly familiar We didn't manage to get access to the grounds via the front gate, but we found a back entrance which everyone seemed happy to travel in and out of, so we made it our business to just be there as well. You know, just a random spot of trespassing to make the road trip complete. Later, through Wikipedia, we found out that Blair Castle stands in history as the last castle in the British Isles to be besieged during the Jacobite Rebellion and that the Duke of Atholl is the only private person in the United Kingdom allowed to raise his own private army.

Beautiful sights

Driving down from Fort William to Glasgow via Loch Lomond was a visual spectacle in itself. The roads alternated between uber-straight and super-windy, and on both sides were the mountains, standing stately on guard, as if to make sure we were all safely on our way.

In Glasgow we bunked over at the flat of Ayu and Grace's long lost friend from Penang who, in true Malaysian fashion, offered us the use of the spare bedroom the moment we said we were in the vicinity. Mind you, we were asked to sleep over : never overestimate the courtesy of fellow Malaysians by just calling someone your friend knows and randomly asking to sleep over often people say yes, without our realising that we have upset their plans and/or privacy.

You'll see that I've posted a photo of phone booth in the middle of nowhere I guess it's just in case Superman flies over and needs to change!

The trip home the next day was a massive detour on our part, because we wanted to see some coastlines and visit Scotland's book township near Newton Stewart. The trip from Glasgow to Lancaster would have taken the better part of 3 hours on the motorway, but we made sure it took twice as long by driving through the Ayrshire coast. Instead of sandy beaches we were treated to long strips of rocky coastlines; where the waves crashed on rocks incessantly. It was a cold windy day and this added to the desolate, rugged, wild feel of the sea again we stopped off at a turnoff here and there to make the most of my amateur photographic amibitions.

Running out of food, we stopped in Girvan for bread and discovered a halal takeaway. The owners were glad to make our acquaintance, and we got a bag of fried goodies: pakoras, chicken tikkas, and a slew of other items I don't know the names of but I do know how to eat, for a mere price of 3 that's a quid each. Three quid well spent, I would say.

Our last stop for the day before heading back to England was Wigtown near Newton Stewart. Wigtown is Scotland's official book town since 1997, and on its streets you would find, neatly lined up, rows and rows of second-hand bookshops. This was bibliophile heaven, and I think I did pretty well to spend just a little over a fiver. On the town's outskirts there is are prehistoric remains, but we didn't quite manage to visit those: it was getting late, and the car we rented was needed back in Lancaster that night.

I'd never heard of Wigtown before this, and to have discovered it, I think if it wasn't so much out of the way, truly off the beaten path as they say, I'd go back more often. As it stands, the Old Pier BookShop in Morecambe would have to sate my cravings for the moment.

The bulk of our costs were car rental and fuel can't help much of that on a roadtrip, I suppose. But one thing we noticed in almost every town we drove through: you wouldn't have to go far to find a Chinese takeaway. Yes, it seems that all our bases do belong to them!


After the trip, IDLAN ZAKARIA now knows that Penangites not only love food, but sleep too. Never get in the way of a Penangite and her pillow.