Ditching Big Attractions for Small Encounters

My grandma's cousin Calum, whom I had only known for a few hours, decided to give my sister & I a whisky education before taking us on a personal tour of the Isle of Lewis in Scotland. He filled our drams with various blends until my nose went numb. It was closer to noon than 5pm, but we drank anyway.

Calum is the isle's local author & historian. At 85 years old, this stout Scotsman speaks fluent Gaelic & is often seen wearing a fedora & a tweed jacket. After finishing our last dram, he led us out of the house & into a lime green Prius.

Our tour began.

We stopped and explored the Callanish Standing Stones & the Gearrannan blackhouse. Calum taught us some Gaelic, told us tales of fairies that hid near the peat, of mermaids near isle's shores, & more. Each attraction we visited can be found in a guidebook. Most travelers admire its beauty, take a picture, & leave. Few linger. But, Calum made these attractions into something more. Through his stories, he brought to life all that has passed.

There were no ghosts. Not yet.

After a quick snack & a lot of water, my sister, Calum, & I returned to the lime green car & drove onto a small gravel road. The rain had stopped, but the cloudy gray skies forewarned of more. With the ocean and its turbulent waves to the left & vast green fields to the right, Calum slowed down and broke out into Gaelic song. The song was beautiful & melancholic. Its slow melodic rhythm complimented the gray sky's wistful tone. I closed my eyes & got so lost in the magic of the tune that I did not realize the car & his singing had stopped.

We stopped at Port Mholair, which is located in on the east side of what the locals call the Point. With a few small war houses & a large green field, little attracts travelers to this port; but for me, Calum made this bigger than any attraction because my great-grandpa Norm lived here. He would walk the vast green field to court my great grandma Annie at Port Na Giuran. There was no evidence left of their inhabitance, but it was here that I felt my ancestor’s ghosts. Their presence was not a haunting one, but one of a welcoming home.

In a land I had never visited before, I met my ancestors ghosts. Calum must have known they were there too because he let us linger there for a while. But as all things end, this moment did too.

One story changed my traveling perspective. Now, I look for the stories instead of the attractions because one story can change everything.