A few years ago I was considering going to Scotland to indulge in a more American weekend getaway. I wanted to visit the beaches of my childhood, explore the renowned architecture, food and Scottish culture that I had been craving since moving to New York, and relive the summers I spent growing up in Connecticut in the Sixties.
Instead, when I made my flight to Glasgow for a one-week trip last August, I arrived with a deep-seated fear that I wouldn’t enjoy myself in Edinburgh or the quaint towns of Aberdeen and Stornoway. Scotland just wasn’t my scene.
When my friends offered to arrange some activities for me, I nervously asked them about Scottish festivals I could visit to see the country’s infamous clogs or the Old Fort or the Aberdeen Jesters and their stilt walkers. But no. What do I need to do to get to Scotland? I couldn’t stand the idea of flying cross-country with limited itinerary. After looking up some experiential tourist options in an attempt to provide some sanity to my panic, I decided to visit a few psychedelic “summer camps” that would afford me some real, honest-to-goodness, experience.
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