Last August, I went on a pilgrimage of seven days on the Isle of Iona. This was a rare privilage for me. When I attended the Five Day Academies for Spiritual Formation i n Florida, I heard some of the attendees talk about Iona as the pinnacle of their spiritual lives. I said, "Some day I will visit Iona.
My first visit was in October of 2024, but we were only 3 days on the island. Being with a group was a distraction. Since then I said, "I've got to return, but this time, alone, and for a longer period."
I made my decision to go in March of this year. I had my doubts. I'm 78 years old. Can I stand the rigors of travel and hiking all over the island? Can I figure out how to get there, especially the complication to get a visa to enter the UK and pulling together the reservations for four changes of transportation and having them coordinate at just the right time?
I made my plane reservations; got my new passport in three weeks; no problem, and my UK visa in a week. My confidence that I was really going to Iona rose.
But figuring out the reservations for ScotRail from Edinburgh to Oban on the Scottish mainland; then the first ferry crossing to Craignure on the Isle of Mull; then the bus ride across Mull to the Fionnphort ferry landing, and finally landing on Iona, was a challenge. Whew!
But getting to Iona was part of the challenge.
I scheduled led my flights for two days in Edinburgh before Iona and two days after, a wise decision because my outbound flight from Philadelphia to Edinburgh was delayed for 24 hours.
How all that happened became a synchronistic experience. Carl Jung, the founder of analytical psychology coined the word, which means, "a meaningful coincidence between two or more events that appear to be connected in significance, even though no direct cause-and-effect relationship can be established."
When I was waiting line to board the plane, I began chatting with a couple as we entered the plane. After finding my seat, I met a young woman sitting across the aisle. She was going to Scotland to meet her Australian boyfriend, who played the bag pipes. The captain announced that there was a minor mechanical problem that we would be on our way in half an hour. Four hours later we deplaned.
It was about 11:00 PM when we disembarked. The young woman took off ahead of me. Then I ran with the friendly couple.
The staff dumped us, saying we were to make our own hotel reservations and the airline would reimburse us for the hotel.
After several calls we realized that all the hotels in the area were booked... except for Travel Lodge with two rooms. As we walked towards the exit, I saw the young woman sitting on a bench looking dejected. I motioned to her to join us. "We have two rooms," I said. We became a foursome. Together we would make it through.
We arrived at a Travel Lodge. It was a dump, but we had no choice. The Mrs. with the young woman in one room and the Mr. and me in the other. At least the sheets were clean.
The next morning at the terminal we were told that our flight was a special one carrying the stranded passengers.
There would be many more synchronistic experiences when I got to Iona.
It was great to back in Edinburgh. Being out of my country for ten days was like taking an ideological vacation- away from the anger, hate and dictatorial diatribes from the top.
It was refreshing to be surrounded by an old culture- the buildings, the parks, the traditions, and the Scottish accent (much I didn't understand, no matter), and Tennent lager beer.
I stayed at "the Hostel" hostel, right across the Haymarket train station. That too was an adventure. Most of the guests were young adults from all over the world. The beds were three tier bunks. I got the lowest one. I kept hitting my head on the frame.
About 18 people shared a room, men and women. Everyone was cordial and kept their belongings on their beds with no concern of being robbed. There was a communal bathroom and showers with doors with locks. A sitting room brought people together. And communal kitchen. I was given a code to enter the hostel and the room. I felt very safe.
The next day I ventured out on my self-tour of Edinburgh taking the train from Haymarket to the Waverley station (my street at home is Waverly). Haymaket got its name in the late 18th century because of the buying and selling hay for the animals, and the name stuck.
First I had to figure out how to buy the train tickets. People noticed that I was an American and helped me out getting my tickets.
From the Waverley station I walked a few blocks to the Royal Mile. It is a mile long stone paved pedestrian street. All along the Royal Mile there are dozens of shops and pubs. The mile rises towards the Edinburgh Castle, a massive stone structure that protected Edinburgh from invasions. Now it houses a series of military museums.
In October 2024, Trudy and I visited Iona with a group. During our last visit in 2024, our flight home was delayed for a day. Another serendipity, because if we had left earlier, we would have missed the highlight of my visit to Scotland. A friend called telling us about the Waverley bar. It served over 100 varieties of Scottish whiskey. At long table Scots men and women sang old Gaelic songs- woeful ballads of love won and lost. Musicians accompanied the singers, including a small bag pipe that could be played indoors.
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