In the summer of 1934 the Scottish poet, translator and _____ borrowed a 1921 Standard car and set off on a solo-trip through the country. Starting in Edinburgh and ending back home on Orkney, his experiences and impressions were detailed in a charming and unorthodox travelogue entitled Scottish Journey.
I am James McEnaney, a lecturer and journalist from Glasgow. [bit in here about some of the stuff I’ve done – education, La Gomera, Sanders]
In the spring of 2018 I will be setting off on a 10 day, 1200 mile journey around Scotland. Starting and beginning outside the Scottish Parliament, and following in the tyre tracks of Muir for much of the route, my journey will take in as much of the country – its landscapes, rhythms, people and, no doubt, weather – as possible.
What I am not attempting to complete, or even begin, is any sort of definitive picture of the “confusing conglomeration” that we call Scotland. This project, and the book at the end of it, does not seek to tell the story of Scotland or its people, but rather to take a series of snapshots of a nation. As Muir says in the introduction to his own book: “…this is not a survey of Scotland but a bundle of impressions: not the Scottish journey, but a Scottish Journey.“