It was August 2019. I packed up my car and headed over to The Outer Hebrides. Alone. For three weeks. I've always been content in my own company - since being a child. I'd happily play for hours on my own and could pass a whole weekend just reading. Planning a trip away, to the most remote part of the UK, did not worry me one bit. Did I consider taking a friend? Nope.

And what a perfect retreat it was. I have no doubt that this holiday transformed my life completely. The experience was spiritual, almost transcendental. And I started to write...

How could anyone fail to be inspired by the surroundings: the weather, the sky, the sea, the landscape, the solitude. Now I knew what William Wordsworth was going on about when he wrote about the Lake District. His Windermere was my Barra. 

I say Barra, but each of the islands are so unique that I couldn't possibly favour one over the other. That would be unfair. Each location, each island, each landscape provided me with a different healing power. 

I wouldn't have realised I needed healing at the time, but looking back, I was breaking. My job was making my miserable. I was single and having a disasterous dating experience "online", life at home was mundane. I'd just completed twelve weeks counselling for anxiety and stress, but I still had no direction. No reward. I needed sanctuary.

This trip was just supposed to be about peace and quiet. But it was far from it. It allowed me to face my demons and finally find peace. 

This photo shows Day 1 on my trip...Sitting in a room I'd rented, a 'wee dram' and my notebooks. Writing started. 

Only weeks after my return home, I met the love of my life and resigned from my position as Head of English. I applied to start my Masters in Creative Writing and...it was all down to this trip. 

Keep up with my blog and I'll reveal how...