I Didn’t Find Myself at the Old Man of Storr

Everyone says the Isle of Skye is magic. Maybe it is. I hiked up to the Old Man of Storr in sideways rain, boots caked in mud, wind screaming like it wanted me gone. The rocks looked like something out of a fantasy movie, but all I could think about was how heavy my backpack felt and how alone I was, even with tourists shuffling past. I kept waiting for awe to hit me—some grand, cinematic feeling. Instead, I just felt tired. Not unhappy, just... there. Sometimes travel is just walking, step after step, hoping the view will change something inside you. Sometimes it doesn’t. And that’s okay. #Travel #TravelWithoutFilters #SoloTravelTruth