I haven’t even taken a seat for breakfast yet when I’m already pulled into the first conversation. A German couple—this time not Swiss—approaches me about the AWO and we chat for a while, standing, about travel. Afterwards, over coffee and toast, I start thinking about how I’ll shape the day. While I’m musing to myself, I hear behind me a dialect that’s become all too familiar. Ah, so it’s Swiss again, and we get into an animated discussion about what fascinates us humans about foreign lands and the memories of them that we love to savor for a long time. We’ve already overrun breakfast by an hour when we decide…

A alarm clock on vacation is actually the last thing I want to see or hear. But Colin and I still want to find a new oil seal and, of course, install it. Lerwick is exactly the right place for that, as it has cars, tools, and especially shipbuilding supplies for everything needed in this direction. In the second shop I hold my long‑sought oil seal in my hand—actually two, you never know. I then head straight to Colin’s garage; everything is very tidy and there really is every tool you could need. Colin lives on a hill and has a wonderful view over Lerwick out to sea. After enjoying…

A tree, another tree, I can hardly believe it. They call it a forest. After four days on Shetland, an island that really has its charms, now again winding roads through lush greenery. Around 7 a.m. I leave the ferry, quickly find my way out of Aberdeen, and head onto side roads toward the Highlands. More precisely, toward Scotland’s second‑highest mountain, or even Britain’s. The many trees—so a forest—stop abruptly as the road begins to climb the bare hills. An imposing mix of far‑seeing and short‑sightedness, depending on whether sun or clouds hold sway. Sometimes there is sun and rain at the same time. Unfortunately, it’s also a very windy day.…

The sun warms the tent. I crawl out of the sleeping bag, make myself a coffee, grab the camera, and head for the beach. It still doesn’t quite sink in that I’m strolling along a sandy beach on the Hebrides and have, once again, managed with AWO to get to one of Europe’s most remote corners. There isn’t much time left to enjoy it; dark clouds loom beyond the dunes. The cozy part is over; now I have to pack at speed while it’s still dry. Almost everything is boxed, but I might need three more minutes to stow the outer tent dry. Then I sit under the covered toilet…

One, maybe two hours. More sleep was out of the question. What do you do on a day when you feel broken from the start? First, take care of the motorcycle’s technical support. I need a welder or a welding machine to restore stability to the side stand. So I head to the bar and order a—no, not whisky—coffee and scrambled eggs. I explain my problem and the helpfulness is, as on Shetland, fabulous. A call from the barmaid, and five minutes later a young man with a welding machine is at the door. He’s missing the necessary shielding gas. The second call follows immediately and a middle‑aged man is…

6:30 is shown on the phone. It should have rung at 6:15. The day starts off well. Or rather, the far‑too‑early morning. Luckily I already packed last night and only have to throw on clothes. There’s a one‑hour morning ride over Skye to the ferry terminal. That has its charm at this time, but I have no patience. I just stare at the GPS to see if the arrival time still matches the check‑in time. It does, to the minute. Off to the ferry and first relax again. Today’s destination is the Kennacraig ferry terminal, to reach the most beautiful of all islands, at least for whisky connoisseurs that’s what…

I like to call it “motorbike hiking” when I meander along small roads through the countryside. Today it’s more of a “whisky hike,” with the premise of not wandering too far off the road afterward. One shouldn’t disregard the charms of the island itself, but today the priorities are different. In fact, I won’t be visiting every distillery, only the ones that lie on the way to Port Askaig. I’ll leave Islay again via Port Askaig today. I’ll start straight away with my home‑grown favorite, Laphroaig. The visitor centre is eerily empty, completely unlike Talisker. The latter probably benefits from being on a truly beautiful holiday island, so the foot…

No rule without exception. No big cities with the AWO. Today is exception day and I go, or drive straight into the full. The time to the ferry is generous and so I treat myself to Glasgow. I know nothing about the city and I also don’t really know what I’m supposed to do there. But it’s just without a big detour to take, and so I bumble straight through. I set a point right in the city centre on the map, but paid attention to nothing else. The result: I get onto city motorways pretty quickly into the heart of the city, but miss a lot of what might…

I need a clear plastic sleeve, some tape, scissors, and an eraser! What sounds like it came straight out of an Olsen Gang movie belongs to the premise of the pioneer‑crafting afternoon “Today we’ll build a rain cover for a GPS.” When I leave Belfast in the morning, it’s already raining cats and dogs. That throws my GPS completely off, even with the screen locked, and after I’ve gotten lost three times without even having left Belfast, I hop on the scooter. I cancel my route through the little side streets after what feels like the 20th navigation failure and head for the nearest larger town with a petrol station,…

… chases away grief and worries. The AWO hasn’t even warmed up properly yet, when my nose registers a scent I’ve recently become familiar with. I lift my eyes and still see passing “lery”, which must mean something like Distillery. A 180° turn follows and soon I’m at the Visitors Center. Just a small room, not comparable to Laphroaig or Talisker. And yes, whiskey with an e! Ireland because. I strike up a conversation with the visitor manager and beg for a mini‑tasting of the good spirit that was placed in the visitor room exactly for that reason. Not bad, even if it doesn’t knock me off my seat. But, if…