Future Narrative #6 - Scottish Stornoway Stay
This story came from conversations in meetings with leaders in the Scottish tourism industry. Our aim was to explore how we wanted to realise a positive future of Scotland meeting its ambition to be the world leader in 21st century tourism. The group came together to undertake a futures narrative workshop that would create the vision of a future that we would want to see in Scotland by the end of our 10 year strategy. Themes of electric-fueled transport and embedding mobility requirements at the heart of ecotourism are especially interesting in this imagining of a Stornoway getaway in 2030.
Illustrated by Anna Bonsignorio and written by Máire Ryan.
Scottish Stornaway Stay - Illustrated by Anna Bonsignorio
If the Mustermanns of Dusseldorf were planning a trip, it was always going to be intensely outdoorsy.
Even by local standards, the family took wanderlust to eyebrow-raising levels. Their eldest Tobias (Toby to his friends) had mobility needs, so the Mustermann family would carefully plan each expedition, prioritising accessibility with adventure as a secondary requirement. They tended to opt for blended holidays: some culture, some sightseeing, and a huge dose of wilderness. These multi-faceted adventures satisfied the need to explore cities like their own but also embedded the Mustermann core value: as a traveller of the world, you must always give more than you take.
Of all the international experiences the Mustermann family had diligently prepared over the years, the Schottland trip stood out most vividly in their collective memory. Inspired by Mama, the Mustermann matriarch, who often shared memories she savoured from a trip in her youth, they began drafting an itinerary which would include the appropriate number of metropolitan escapades and ensure that the Mustermanns’ time was mostly spent in nature. Toby had a particular yearning to witness puffins in real life: he harboured a firm suspicion that they were works of fiction. No bird, he insisted, could possibly look so friendly.
Alighting in Edinburgh from one of the high-speed trains which whizzed passengers all over Europe and beyond, the Mustermanns ventured forth into the late afternoon drizzle the air was filled with. In the late afternoon, the sun caressed the West End of the city, turning grey buildings rose pink as it began its descent. Mama had warned them that the city looked like fiction. The Mustermanns were delighted to confirm this was not another of her taller tales. The following 24 hours achieved all the usual pursuits appropriate to one’s first visit to Edinburgh: getting casually lost, feeling sorry for Greyfriars Bobby, museum visiting and whiskey tasting (Mutti and Papa only, for obvious reasons). With their usual pioneering spirit–and, in part, thanks to Edinburgh’s excellently laid out attractions–the family’s holiday began in triumph.
The next stage was a whole new level for the Mustermanns. Their research had unearthed an electricity-led eco-tourism initiative based out of Northern Scotland, which invited the more immersion-passionate tourist to roam, engage, explore and–key to the project–volunteer for a variety of organisations working to keep Scotland’s natural beauty in tip top condition. Universal mobility was a core priority for the organisers: they assured the Mustermanns that Toby would be able to traverse as freely as he would at home, due to the carefully designed accessibility features each destination was equipped with.
At 9am, two days after arriving in Edinburgh, the Mustermanns boarded an electric drone vehicle to Ullapool. Their integrated e-tickets allowed for a smooth journey and the drone’s flightpath permitted them the most stunning views along the way. During a two-hour wait for their ferry, they enjoyed a fine meal at a local social enterprise that offered training opportunities for members of the local community. The enterprise also provided locally sourced food (all products gleaned from within a five-mile radius) that catered to all dietary preferences. They received the Mustermann seal of approval, a notable tip, and a cheery goodbye from all members of the dining party. The demand-responsive passenger ferry to Stornoway, chosen to compliment the Mustermanns’ commitment to sustainable travel, departed punctually, rolling along the waves; a merry cork in an angry barrel. The skipper mentioned sighting of porpoises earlier in the day. All members of the party pitched over to the railings to scan the horizon. Except for Toby, who took the chance to quietly grill the captain about the likelihood of puffins. Although assured that he was bound to come across a few, Toby remained quietly sceptical.
Upon arrival an electric, open-topped jeep awaited them. Their guide, a relative newcomer to the island who had ventured over due to their wanderer’s spirit, suggested taking the scenic coastal route to their B&B. Armed with the pre-downloaded app which kept the Mustermanns updated with the recent wildlife sightings (puffins were once again mentioned; Toby feigned disinterest) and featured live webcams of local nesting sites, the Mustermanns would be sure to avoid inadvertently disrupting the breeding season. No puffins were sighted on the incline to their accommodation. Toby did not voice his disappointment, but his parents noticed nonetheless. The B&B was a carbon-positive croft-house, fully accessible for Toby, and just about the cosiest abode the family could have asked for. The young proprietor, inspired to start a social enterprise after her graduation from University of Perth, was determined to contribute to the local community, culture, and environment. She was brimming with invaluable recommendations for their month-long stay. All bookings were made via a German-translated platform, provided by the accommodation. The family eagerly utilised the island's visitor data portal to attend attractions during the less busy times; the portal recommended the best time for the family to visit Callanish, for example, and were able to witness the sun rise over the ancient stones, uninterrupted by other tourists. They made sure that, wherever they went, they sent contactless donations as voluntary contributions to the community-owned and managed sites they were invited to enjoy. Their activities included Gaelic lessons, traditional song writing, ceilidhs and volunteering at a sea-wilding initiative, made possible by the island's borrowing service for specialist equipment for the various activities. There wasn’t a single activity that didn’t enrich the Mustermanns in some way.
It was two days to departure, finally, that Tobias Mustermann accepted the existence of puffins. When a volunteer from the SeaBird Securities collective got wind of his enduring puffin denial, he was quickly sent a formal e-vite to have this illusion shattered. His wheelchair safely ensconced in a wind-proof crag, Toby not only saw those tiny sea-lords and ladies darting about, mouths full of sand eels and eyes full of mirth, but actually got to hold one. It was so tiny, and yet so wonderfully solid. Toby did not express his thoughts on the encounter, but his parents knew, nonetheless.
Provocation Questions
We’d love to hear your thought on this story. Here are some questions that we hope might provoke some interesting debate. Feel free to add your comments below!
With its rugged landscape and ancient buildings, Scotland's landscape has not always been accessible for all.
What initiatives are you seeing now that might ensure mobility requirements are met in future travel experiences?