Introduction: it is the beginning of the end, final month of summer travel. Mostly cold, wet, damp summer. Much prefer the intense sun and heat of the desert.
Conclude travel in Scotland and England, before returning to the United States, seven nights on board Queen Mary 2, to cross 3,000 miles of the Atlantic Ocean.
Proud Mary is stuck in my head; watched too much garbage television, with advertisements to purchase Creedence Clearwater Revival (LP, cassette, 8-track).
WED 01 Oct: Len is from Cork Ireland, we met at the hostel, and say goodbye at the Fort William, Scotland bus station. We are similar age, he is well-traveled, having bicycled across much of the world. I meet many people, and it is a treat to meet someone who is so remarkable. We shared travel stories, and mostly laughed at each other’s misfortune. Hopefully, Len and I cross path in the future.
Scattered low clouds, sun, rain, and rainbows turns into rain. Remnants of hurricane Humberto and Imelda bring strong winds and rain to the United Kingdom, and abruptly changes the constantly changing weather in the Scottish Highlands.
Scenery is dramatic, with steep, treeless slopes, dusted with scree, and rapidly flowing streams. Bus passes Eilean Donan Castle, outside Kyle of Lochalsh, Sligachan Waterfalls, and Scottish Highlands cows (aka. hairy coos), with its long, shaggy coat. Mother coos hide its baby calves in tall grass to hide and protect from predators. Cross over the A87 Skye Bridge, onto Isle of Skye; the bridge is fairly new; prior to 1995, the region was only reached by ferry.
Ugh. Arrive in Uig, following four-hour bus north to the Isle of Skye. Sky is shrouded in dense fog, and I cannot see anything; take the bus driver’s word that we arrived.
There is not much here in Uig, besides ferry service to the Outer Hebrides. As I exit the bus, I begin to feel panicky and claustrophobic, as if I am at grave risk of being stranded in this isolated region. Sensation fades after checking in to Cowshed, boutique hostel, one of the nicer hostels during the past five months, and a restful place to wait out the inclement weather. Hostel has large plate glass windows facing the harbor, and watch the weather morph before my eyes, better than any television. I am told that I should have been here last week, when there was glorious sunshine.
THU 02 Oct: brief, thirty-minute bus south to the town of Portree, and grateful that the bus actually shows up. Shrug my shoulders when someone comments that I wear hooded sweatshirt and sandals with no socks. I am indifferent if feet get wet (in the rain) or if feet get muddy (on hiking trails); I can wash my feet, wash the sandals, and the sandals do not stink like (wet) shoes. Explore Portree briefly, before rain returns.
Isle of Skye is best served with car hire, to visit many of the sights along the way, or day trip from Inverness to focus on the region’s highlights. Just because an area may be reached by bus, does not mean that it should be visited by bus; live and learn.
FRI 03 Oct: morning bus to village of Broadford, short-lived. Hurricane Humberto and Hurricane Imelda conspire to form Storm Amy, the first named UK storm of the year. Wind gusts are forecast up to 100-mph, and public transportation – bus, train, ferry, flights – scheduled to cease operations before 6:00pm. Skye Bridge off the island is now closed to tall vehicles (including bus). Hostel owner drives me over the bridge to the next town, Kyle of Lochalsh, and catch one of the last trains to Inverness. Spy a fleeting glimpse of the sun, calm before the storm, similar to a hurricane assault.
Sunday, Storm Amy continues to retreat; walk the scenic Ness River, but no monster sightings. River runs from Loch Ness to Moray Firth (ie. fjord), and into the North Sea.
MON 06 Oct: say goodbye to Sara (from Hawaii), we met in Glasgow, and met again in Inverness, after both of our travels were disrupted by Storm Amy. One of those people that you meet, who is infinitely fascinating; parting is such sweet sorrow.
Train and bus service restored by Sunday, but morning trains to Glasgow and Edinburgh cancelled due to a signal fault, about as impressive as Amtrak. Purchased bus ticket, south to Dundee via Perth, about as impressive as Greyhound. Check into hostel, do not say a word, or risk spraying everything in sight with venom.
WED 08 Oct: Dundee is mostly discouraging, a city that has seen better days, is this why I travel; not every place may be a picture postcard. Enjoyed visiting McManus Museum, but otherwise, grateful to move onward.
Morning train to Edinburgh, cross the Tay Bridge. Current bridge constructed in 1887, following the collapse of the first bridge, during a winter storm in 1879, which killed all 75-passengers on board, due to poor engineering and construction. Scottish gentleman sits next to me on the train, looks like he has had a difficult life. Reminded of a quotation: “capitalism is the unequal distribution of wealth; socialism is the equal distribution of misery.” Wonder if social “handouts” may not be a beneficial policy.
Thursday, visit portrait and national galleries, thoughtful collections and free to the public. Portrait gallery atrium uniquely lit, with stars painted on its ceiling. Lay prone on the floor to capture the image. Is the floor clean, do not know, do not care.
Friday, last day in Scotland, sunshine; have not seen the sun since I arrived in Glasgow, three weeks ago. Visit Edinburgh Castle, it is teeming with people; I am overwhelmed with claustrophobia. Preferred spying the castle while exploring the city on foot.
SAT 11 Oct: Edinburgh, Scotland’s capital, is laid out like a three-dimensional chessboard; old town sits on a precipice formed by glaciation, separated from the modern city, by Waverley train station, seated in a deep valley formed by glaciation.
Southbound train, Scotland to Newcastle England. To the west, Lockerbie Scotland, where Pan Am flight 103, Boeing 747, exploded on December 21st 1988; terrorist bomb, detonated following a decrease in barometric pressure (increase in altitude).
There was no airline emergency response team to notify families. Families learned of the accident at the airport or from television news. One of my high school classmates, Scott Cory (class of 1987), was returning home following a semester abroad in London, one of thirty-five Syracuse University students on-board. I cannot imagine the anguish that his parents experienced, and cannot imagine the lifelong heartache, as if, a grotesque amputation. Syracuse University maintains an on-line memorial. Scott’s high school graduation photo is posted; he looked so young.
Two weeks to explore England; if I did not have the Queen Mary scheduled, would likely continue on to London and fly back to the United States; grind on for now.
Find the United Kingdom mostly depressing, and not just the weather. No offense to UK friends, but wonder if the best days of the empire are far behind; stiff upper lip. Stripping out London, GDP per capita falls below Mississippi, the poorest of the fifty states. WiFi is consistently underwhelming (slow); am I not in a first world country.
Bee-line from the train station to the laundromat; difficult to find self-service; Edinburgh wanted $40 USD, my clothes are not even worth $40. Laundry attendant is a college student, she wants to talk for the entire hour; introverted, I leave exhausted.
Sunday, hostel WiFi not working, bee-line to Starbucks to get some work done. Walk through city center, and disappointed with how much trash litters the street and sidewalks, do people not even try to use the bin. Visit quayside market, food stalls, bakery items, handmade trinkets. Great view of the city’s seven bridges that span the Tyne River. Hostel room is okay, but the common areas are gritty. Travel long enough that my tolerance is running thin. Make hotel reservation for tonight, not fancy, Holiday Inn Express, next to the train station, and breakfast, too.
MON 13 Oct: express train to York, historic walled city, with Roman origins. It is charming, and the volume of tourists is not unreasonable. It is possible to walk most of the city walls, gray skies contrast with yellow and orange deciduous trees. Shambles is a narrow street, with characteristic, medieval houses, and surprised to see a healthy-looking red fox dart down the street during broad daylight.
WED 15 Oct: train to Liverpool, via Manchester Victoria. Train arrives 25-minutes late, and receive 25% refund, as part of the “delay repay” program. UK train tickets are expensive, and appreciate the refund. Explore Royal Albert Docks, but, no sighting of the Beatles, and visit the remains of St. Lukes Anglican Church, bombed by Germany in 1941 with an incendiary device, leaving behind only its skeletal, masonry remains.
Thursday, meet Jo for lunch; first met in 2023 at Cappadocia Turkey, the popular location for sunrise hot air balloons, and remain in touch as we both circumnavigate the globe. Meet at Lime Street Station, and enjoy Bold Street pedestrian mall, great food for any eclectic palate. We briefly talk about the value of travel, and suggest that at the very least, it makes a person, an informed global citizen, but also quite possible, that travel is good for nothing. Return to the hostel, pass under the brightly colored China town gate, in what is otherwise a gray, cloudy day.
FRI 17 Oct: morning train to Birmingham; conductor allows me to board an earlier train. There is not much that I want to see or do, no interest in shopping, and wonder if I should have found a way to stay in the English countryside. Hostel is located below a brick, train viaduct, overwhelmed with graffiti, grateful for the safety of daylight.
SAT 18 Oct: arrive at Moor Street Station, and surprised by the status of the departure board; most trains delayed, the few trains not delayed, are cancelled. Recall the trauma of trying to depart Inverness Scotland. UK train tickets are expensive, and vexed why train service is consistently unreliable. Ticket agent extends great kindness, and lets me depart on the immediate departure even though I am ticketed for mid-morning. Agent tells me that I have an accent, and asks if I am from the states.
Arrive in London, cosmopolitan city, with great joy and relief. There is no sun, but the temperature is mild. Near the end of the journey, lose my appetite, nothing tastes good; there is no available food that I want to eat. Fatigued of shopping at Aldi, Lidl, Sainsburys, Tesco, and who can afford to shop at Marks & Spencer.
SUN 19 Oct: morning train to Cambridge, exit the platform, and already, feel smarter. Feeling is short-lived, slowly begin to feel like an imposter, not a single, remarkable thought, Bach-Busoni D-minor Chaconne (solo piano) plays in my head.
Visit Fitzwilliam Museum before it closes, an unexpected surprise. There was a painting by Georges Seurat, as he experimented with “the couple” that became part of, A Sunday on La Grande Jatte (1884), on display at the Art Institute of Chicago, and highlighted in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986). Surprised to see a painting by Amedeo Modigliani, Portrait of a Young Woman (1915).
Author, Douglas Adams, graduated from St John’s College, Cambridge University; best known for, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, where Adams suggested that humans seek meaning in a universe that is without meaning; that humans desire sense in a universe that is senseless. Adams suggested rather than search for an answer, embrace the absurdity, and create your own meaning. I do not believe that there is meaning or purpose; to create meaning, risks fallacy and self-delusion.
Of the two famous university towns, find Oxford more appealing, in part, the quietude of the canal walk. Much of Cambridge University is closed off to tourists, and much of what remains was shrouded in scaffolding.
TUE 21 Oct: morning train to London, ask at the ticket counter if I may take an earlier train. Response is “no” but I may purchase new ticket for an earlier train. Stand on the train platform, and ask train attendant if I may take an earlier train. Response is “no” as s/he smiles and nods, points to many open seats, and tells me to enjoy the ride.
Find laundromat so that I do not smell bad on the ship; moon the attendant while I strip off my clothes. Ship requires collared shirt at dinner. Find an inexpensive black shirt that does not look dreadful with deeply faded, black cargo pants.
Wednesday, second visit to national gallery. Van Gogh sunflowers, Georges Seurat, Bathers at Asnières (1884); Degas, Combing the Hair (1896), which uses only various shades of red; Degas, Ballet Dancers (1900), pastel on paper board. There are no crown jewels at the museum for thieves to steal.
Visit chiropractor, foot still hurts; too much walking, not enough rest, no ice. Look forward to less walking on the ship, and a break from cobblestones.
THU 23 Oct: Goodge Street Station, descend 146 circular stairs, and wonder if I am scaling the depths of hell. What is it to be daring, to be bold, to be brave. Could it be to wear barefoot sandals on an over-crowded, morning rush hour, Northern Line train – or – could it be to step into the restroom at Waterloo station.
There are electronic billboards to visit the United States (ie. Georgia, Philadelphia, etc.), but wonder why, when immigration and customs official make it more difficult for people to visit; is it not disingenuous.
Transit Waterloo Station, number of CCTV cameras is overwhelming; sight neither Jason Bourne nor journalist Simon Ross. United Kingdom celebrates 200th anniversary of its train system. My expectations are low, sure enough, another signal fault, trains delayed, and another “delay repay” ticket refund.
FRI 24 Oct: one may travel from London to Southampton on the morning of embarkation, if you believe that the train system is reliable, “Well, do ya, punk?”
Morning is one of glorious sunshine, tease perhaps, following nearly two months of overcast, grey skies; United Kingdom has only 60 days of sunshine per year.
Make my way to Southampton ship pier, at mid-day, board Cunard’s Queen Mary 2 (QM2), seven-nights, 3000-miles across the Atlantic Ocean to Brooklyn New York; hopefully, no icebergs or Hurricane Melissa.
QM2 entered service in 2004, and replaced the Queen Elizabeth 2 (1969). QM2 is an ocean liner, designed to cross oceans; cruise ships remain closer to land (between port calls). QM2 is built with thicker steel, longer bow, and higher bridge, for protection during violent storms. Travel 500-miles per day; modern aircraft, 500-mph.
Check-in process is underwhelming; queue and wait. State rooms are not yet ready; buffet lunch in Kings Court, quality and presentation are underwhelming. Visit the library, peruse the world atlas, and check out two philosophy books, to help me understand a world that I do not understand; long on questions and short on answers.
Windowless state room is on the highest deck (13); double bed, and complementary bottle of sparkling wine. Desk is sticky, which I clean before using my laptop; television remote does not work, either.
Grand Lobby is pleasant, and so is the Britannia Dining Room; dining room is loud; do not wish to entertain small talk, and do my best to feign politeness. Dinner service is inattentive and slow; one guest asks for a Coke three times, but it never appears. Find some guests to be a tedious bore; one guest insists that she only travels on Cunard ships, but maybe what I see, is a reflection of myself.
An inauspicious beginning, or, is it the end. This is why I am tired of living with myself, tomorrow is different, but it never gets better; almost every day is joyless.
Strong winds, and in the shower, water sloshes across the floor, before spilling down the drain. Rocking motion of the ship, similar to that of an overnight train, is soothing, and quickly drift off to sleep. Exercise each day before breakfast: deadlift, clean and press, overhead squat, pull-up, Turkish get-up.
Four cruises: Alaska (Holland America, 2010), Antarctica (G Adventures, 2024), Svalbard (Hurtigruten, 2025), and Trans-Atlantic (Cunard, 2025), and reminded of the scale of the world. Is the ocean not a Rorschach; what do I feel on an overcast day when the light is flat: melancholy, bleak, and lonely.
There is a sub-group of passengers, busy bees, who walk laps around the ship, as if their life depended, regardless of the weather, blasted by wind and soaked by spray, wearing hats, mittens, and winter coats.
College dorms may serve better food than the buffet; bland and flavorless with little variation. Coffee has no kick; espresso drinks and alcohol may be purchased at the bar. (Satellite) WiFi data plan is expensive, and turn off my iPhone.
Various events scheduled all day, every day, but I am not entertained. Did not expect first-rate acts, these are not even second-rate acts. Piano recital, anticipate Chopin prelude or Bach invention, but it is new-age elevator musak. Lecture is mostly celebrity name-dropping, and absent of insight. Comedian is not funny, and do not understand why the audience laughs, except perhaps, sympathy. Otherwise, prefer the privacy of my stateroom; read a book, or rot my mind watching the limited selection of movies. I would be better served by the desperation of boredom, from which creativity blossoms.
Wednesday (day five), reach the coast of Newfoundland Canada. Not allowed to tour the bridge (deck 12), but allowed to view the bridge (from behind glass); not allowed to photograph or take videos.
FRI 31 Oct: if a person may afford to travel, it is likely a commodity (experience), not a luxury, and most luxury is wasted on me. I am not yet dissuaded by around-the-world freighter travel.
Pass under Verrazano Narrows Bridge, and pass alongside the Statue of Liberty, is the United States not a country of immigrants. Arrive Brooklyn terminal; disembark 7am and clear US customs, without a single query. Subway to Grand Central, Metro North to New Haven, Amtrak to Old Saybrook; Happy Halloween.
What makes it embarrassing to be an American overseas, is that the United States is widely considered to be a beacon, and last bastion of democracy. Much of the world may see through the veil of the current administration, and some are bold enough to predict the fall of the United States, and the fall of an empire. Current administration does not seek unity, and a divided country cannot stand.
Five months, fifteen countries, no Google translate, English was nearly ubiquitous. What do I remember: fjords of Iceland are dramatic and stunning; despite the cost of gasoline ($9 gallon), warrants a return to circumnavigate the ring road. Svalbard, at 78-degrees north latitude, felt uncomfortably isolated, not a place I would want to be stranded during a global holocaust. Baltic States did not disappoint, pleasant surprise. Summer of fantastic art, Rijksmuseum (Amsterdam) and Musée d’Orsay (Paris), were stunning. First visit to (restored) Notre Dame, and perhaps, the only sunny, warm day (t-shirt weather), that I remember, during a summer that was cold, wet, and damp. Other than one flight from New York to Reykjavík Iceland, summer of overland travel, ferries, trains, and bus, subtle reminder that the world is a big place.
Cost: cumulative travel costs, during past 156-days.
Lodging: $6,346 total | $41 day
Transport: $3,368 total | $22 day (plane | train | bus | ferry | taxi)
Food: $336 total | $2 day
Other: $6,785 total | $43 day (FX | ATM | visa | tourism | RV & motorbike)
— Svalbard cruise ($4,400 | eight-day expedition)
— Queen Mary 2 ($1,600 | seven-day cruise)
Total: $16,836 total | $108 day | $39,400 annualized
— Cash burn: $80 | <$1 day (when credit card not accepted)
No Uber or taxi during the five-month journey; ferry, train, bus, and feet.
Conclusion: one year ago, arrived in São Paulo Brazil; traveled eleven of the past twelve months, not tired, but fatigued. Visited 65 of 200 countries, 35% of the world – still – a failing score. There are 200 sovereign countries, if normally distributed, 100 countries must be below average, travel will not get any easier.
Five years of travel, five years on pilgrimage, to seek meaning where meaning does not exist, to seek truth where truth does not exist. What do I remember: Treasury at Petra (Jordan), Pyramids of Giza (Egypt), Uluru (Australia), Dome of the Rock (Jerusalem), Antarctica, and perhaps, the most precious of all, the kindness of strangers.
Home for winter holidays with family and friends. Intention for 2026 is nine months of contiguous travel (pending two paper visas): Philippines, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Maldives, Sri Lanka, India, Pakistan, northern China, Tibet, and Nepal.
One may wonder, is Pakistan safe. I might ask, what country is safe (I see you Iceland). Safety is a figment, no place is safe, no place is without risk; Pakistan is not less safe than to attend church or synagogue in the United States; thoughts and prayers.
If you remove all the labels, and all the “isms,” what remains are eight-billion humans, trying to take care of their families, and to exist without strife; humans trying their honest best to co-exist with other humans. Any bad actors are the exception, not the rule. Maybe these actors do not know any better, maybe these actors do not have any other skills besides deceit and trickery.
Have I traveled far enough to allow my tears to fall.
garthmonroe 