Summer in Western Europe 

Yu Guangzhong 

Light-hearted as he seems, a traveler is in fact under great stress. Though on vacation, he is nevertheless subject to the restraint of time. He can do whatever he likes on the trip, but he has to keep the expenditure within the limits of his pocket. Wherever he goes, he has to take with him his cumbersome hand luggage. He faces the most horrible possibility of losing his money and credentials, which will reduce himself to a pauper of unknown background. And, besides, he can never be sure of the weather. 

That’ s what I’ m like now. I’ ve traveled all the way from the southern tip of Spain to the northern tip of England, experiencing a variety of climates until I’ ve become apathetic to the elements. I’ m now sitting in a medieval castle turned hotel, writing an article for my readers. The day is just dawning. In Central Scotland, there lies under the gray wet clouds a wild wooded region, beyond which a green mountain stands faintly visible. In the chilly air of the early morning, I have to be dressed in a woolen sweater while sitting on a stone wall one foot on thickness. But I need, in addition, an outer garment to keep me warm in case I come down the spiral staircase-the intestines of the castle-to take a stroll along an unfrequented path down the mountain slope in search of secluded places of quiet beauty.