As we floated somewhere east of Kirkintilloch, we moaned about how lovely it was: all blue skies, nesting swans, grazing sheep. Mossy trees stretched their branches across the water, making the forest enchanting and timeless. We did this for four days, waking each morning to set up kayaks and paddle miles upon miles to the next hot dinner. We’d hoped for mayhem; instead we got meditation. I’m already plotting to do it again.