The rain had stopped. The dark clouds were gone from the sky. I arrived at Fionnphort, a small harbour in the Isle of Mull, Scotland. I was on my way to Iona. From the place I was standing, I could see the island already; just another 15 minutes by ferry.
I jumped onto the ferry, overwhelmed and excited.
Not long after that, I finally arrived. I walked away from the ferry to the harbour deck, looked around, and my eyes caught a giant map on the other side of the harbour. I walked there and tried to find the campsite location.
I had booked online for a tent and sleeping bag at the campsite. As I knew there is only one campsite on Iona, located not far from the harbour. The website says it is just 15 minutes walk from the harbour.
When I felt confident enough with what I got from reading the map, I started walking to find the campsite. After 15 minutes of walking, I still couldn’t see any campsite around. My feet were tired already; the track wasn’t easy. It was long way up to the hill, and my backpack was pretty heavy. I looked around and found nothing but houses. I wanted to ask someone for directions, but no one was around. Ergh, I got confused and started doubting. The place was so quiet; so silent. Picture any horror movies or any setting for a serial killer film. It frightened me and stopped my steps. I decided to walk back to the harbour. I thought I could find someone to ask there.
Another 15 minutes had passed. I arrived at the harbour again, but no one was there. It was around 7 PM. ‘Seriously? Where are these people?’ I spoke to myself. I was a bit panicked. The only thing I could do was to re-read the map and walk through the same path all over again. This time I walked grumpily. My feet were very very tired, and my back was painful from my heavy backpack.
Not so long after I started walking, I heard a car engine from behind me. There was a car coming. I stopped, stepped to the sidewalk, and let the car pass. I was still grumpy, and all many grumpy words happened in my mind. Just like clouds covering up the sun, I was busy being grumpy and couldn’t think straight. I saw there was a logo on the side of the car. A logo with a green tent and a big word ‘CAMPSITE’ on it. This looked so familiar to my eyes, but I realised too late that the car belonged to the campsite; the car was already far away. I ran, waved, and shouted trying to stop the car, but the driver did not see me. The car was gone, and I became even more grumpy. ‘Ah, come on.. can you just let me ride that car so I don’t need to walk. I’m so tired!’ I whispered to God, wishing the car would come back to save me.
After 30 minutes of walking, I finally saw a big sign for the campsite. I checked in, got my tent and sleeping bag, and the campsite owner showed me around.
Not so long after I started pitching my tent, and digging a hole for my ‘stove’. It took almost an hour to set everything up, and when I had finished, I sat inside my tent in silence. At this time I saw how this trip taught me four precious lessons:
- Reading a map doesn’t mean your track will be easier and with no challenges.
- I saw how often I am tempted to give up when I am already close to my goal.
- There’s nothing wrong with making a U-turn as long as it helps you to strengthen your faith. But it definitely will cost something. It consumes more time and energy.
- I saw how often I wish I could ride others’ processes that seem easier and faster than the process I’m on. I often forget that I have my own process.