The rest of Scotland

The rest of Scotland

So we did it. Skye in a day. We decided late last night, while we had a fire on the beach, that since the weather was so good – we would try to see as much of Scotland as we could. We decided that we would drive back down glensheil, and then along Loch Ness to Inverness, and then decide where to go from there. Driving back through glen sheil takes far longer the it seemed to coming – it's amazing how quickly the brain will get bored when it has seen something before, or overdosed on beautiful vistas the day before.

Through past Invergarry, we get down to Loch ness. We are back to civilization: you can tell by the slow tourists struggling round loch side windy roads. Even though it is still pretty nice weather, Loch ness has a thick layer of mist hovering over it. I think the Scottish tourist board get up early in the morning and put it there, cos it adds so much atmosphere, and you can see how the tourists are attracted by the stories of Loch Ness and Mysticism.



Apart from getting out at Blair Drummond and lapping up the tourist tack, the biggest attraction on Loch Ness is Castle Urquart. Castle Urquart has obviously once been quite a fortress. It is now ruins. You can see from the footprint and remains, that the castle was quite big, it also sits on loch ness so can look in both directions along a major waterway.(Now the Caledonian canal). It was destroyed, like many castles, in 16?? to prevent it becoming a Jacobite stronghold.



I'm never sure what is better as a tourist attraction – a ruined castle or an immaculately preserved castle. I always find the ones which have become country houses a bit boring. When you are a kid, ruins get your imagination running much better. You feel like a ruin has seen some real action, and you can imagine a knight falling during the last battle of the castle when it was destroyed. It probably didn't happen lik this, but I'd like to think that it did. Maybe my love of grunge, and the imperfection of slightly broken things is derived from years of running around ruined castles with a plastic sword having the opportunity to interpolate more than one possible past or reality. Ah! - The joys of ambiguity.

This castle, because of it's location, is full of tourists and costs £6, so we don't stay that long. Its strange how some castles become huge tourist attractions while others sit quietly as ruins, enjoyed by locals and people who happen to come across them by accident. I remember how annoying it must have been for my father as we always wanted to stop at every castle we saw from the car driving round scotland. I imagine him taking detours to avoid the thousands of castles around scotland in order to make it to the destination.

So we drive onwards, stopping in Blair Drummond to refuel with Diet coke, dr. pepper and water. Its onwards to Inverness now. I'm really enjoying the drive. We are in good spirits, singing along to the radio and generally enjoying a 2 day sightseeing drive of Scotland

By the time we get to Inverness – the weather is a bit grotier. We think about driving all the way up to Ullapool, so that we can see more Scotland, but we soon realise by looking at the map that it's a boring drive with not much benefit at the end. We decide instead to go the long way home through Aberdeen, as we had never been there before. Before we can go to Aberdeen, we decide to stop off at another Scottish Landmark. Culloden.



Culloden is the site where a battle took place in 1746 which once and for all took independence from Scotland and was the last battle in mainland Britain. 5000 Scots from various clans known as the Jacobites. They were the supporters of the Stuart dynasty of kings in Scotland. They were led by their best chance for the throne – a small Italian called Bonnie Prince Charlie. Culloden was the site where 5000 hairy Scotsmen met 9000 english soldiers, and were killed. It was more of a massacre than a battle, with very bad planning and preparation by the Scots. I say Scots, the correct term is Jacobites, cos there were as many Scots on the English side as there were on the Scots. As with most Scottish history its a bizarre web of catholics, protestants, unionists, nationalist, nutters, hairy people and kilted people. The French also helped out the Scots as is our age old agreement.

So we find ourselves entering Culldoen. It is full of tourists. Even just the feeling of the place sends strange chills up your spine. It's a rough moor – not the ideal place to defend your nations independence. We don't stay for long, as it's a very strange experience being somewhere, where you can almost smell ghosts of your ancestors (even if you don't believe in them), while listening to American tourists ponder why they haven't renewed the gravestones for each clan which line the path, and mark where the burial ground were separated. You kind of walk along this path, and eventually get to a cairn which looks over the centre of the battle field.



I can't really describe how this feels. Although the Scots are proud of their nation, and talk endlessly about it drunk. We don't often take the time to get this close to it's history. I've been to the monument's at Ypres as part of the school trips, and all I remember is a warm day with many many tourists, and a big list of names on a monument, but when you are standing on the field, it just hits you. We left quickly, because the compulsion to ask a group of loud English tourists for a rematch became quite strong. As we leave, we take a nice photo of an old Scottish croft.



Whether this has been recreated for the tourists or is original – I'm not sure.

After a quick stop off in Nairn for lunch, we now drove to Aberdeen, as a long scenic road home. It may be that we have now overdosed on Scotland, or it may be that this was a too long a route for a short cut, but about half way along the road to Aberdeen we start to get a bit bored. The scenery is nice enough. Rolling hills similar to Ayrshire, the odd view of the coast. The weather is deterioirating.

Finally we get to Aberdeen, where we have a quick look around. The quick look a round involves a very windy beach, and Pitodrie(Aberdeen Football club's stadium)





Its now the home leg all the way home. This is much easier as it is Motorway almost all the way. The weather gets more familiar(What a roundabout way of saying raining), before we stop off in Perth fro a wonderful fish and chips. It comes from Chinese take away, so the batter is just slightly sweet. The chips are perfection – and it is a wonderful way to round off a very long but enjoyable 2 days(well 2 and a half) on the road in Scotland.

Skye in a day

Skye in a day.

So we wake up. Throw the tent in the back of the car in record time, and head off to the bridge. We wave at the bargirl from the previous evening, as we inevitably pass her on the way. (It’s a small world up here)

The weather isn’t so good today. You can’t see the mountains we could see yesterday from the bridge. We push on anyway, marveling at the sparse land and hills which we can see. We drive on and in through Skye’s small towns. We are aiming for Portree, the island’s capital. There is very little in the way of civilization before Portree. Where the road forks left round the island and right round the island, there is a picturesque campsite at the foot of a cloud-covered hill. We jot it down in our mental notebooks, as a possibility to spend the night.



We are very excited to be this far North, and this gets us through traveling along bad roads in bad weather. Finally we get to Portree,( or Port Righ in the native Gaelic). It is a breath of fresh air, it is full civilization. The first we have seen since Fort William. We get out of the car, to go to the toilet, stretch our legs, and decide what we are going to do. We have decided to climb a small hill on the island, as something to do. We go to the hiking shop. The woman in the shop deserves a paragraph to herself.

On of our expedition party had decided that pristine white Nikes were not the required attire for climbing a muddy hill track. I was picking up some postcards to send off to prospective future visitors from around the world. The shop assistant came up, and with a cheery smile offered me coffee while I looked around. She was very bright and cheery and friendly. I think it comes from being in the middle of nowhere. There was far less of the dry grumpiness, which I’ve come to love about Glasgow. It really brightened our morning, and with this newfound cheeriness, we traveled further with the intention of climbing a hill called the Storr. This required that we travel further north than Portree. This took us onto a one-way dirt road where you pull to the side when you see an oncoming car. This gets repetitive. You give the car in the other direction a lackadaisical wave, as you slowly make your way along these roads. We decided that this customary wave was not meaningful enough. We started to wave out of the windows enthusiastically whenever we passed cars. This put a smile on most drivers faces, as they saw some large hairy Scotsmen waving out of the windows of a cherry red Beetle with a sunflower on the dashboard. It cheered them up!!!

The old man of Storr.

Still buzzing from my experiences on a Munro the previous week, I was determined that we at least got a little walk while on the same island as the most impressive mountain range in Scotland. My walking round Scotland book had two walks which were non-Munros meaning they are a little easier, and more likely to be possible for amatuer’s without much bother. We decided on the Old man of Storr walk as it was first on the road, and initially we thought it was the old man of Stoer – which is much further north. The old man of Storr is a finger shaped structure of rock which juts out of some very interesting rocks beside a hill called the Storr(700 odd metres).

So we set off on a woodland path(Theres a recurring theme in Scottish hill walking here). Soon we are experiencing what I had experienced the previous week. Three steps in and you realise that you are no longer 12 and mountain climbing requires more energy, which was far more easily expendable a few years ago. For some reason, I seem to have broken through this valve last week, and I am bounding up the path with far less problems than last week. I’m not one for exercise, but in a week, I seem to be fitter, healthier and thinner. After a little climbing through trees etc. we evertually see the old man of Storr poking through the cloud. The weather is going to really put a damper on views, but I’m glad to be getting out of the car.



As we get a little higher, the views out to the sea become far clearer, and I am really glad we came to skye.




The walk is now more of a struggle as the last remaining sustenance provided by the mornings haggis and bacon rolls(You couldn’t make it up!!!) disappears. Once the woods have cleared we get a great view of the surrounding rock formations around the old man of Storr. It’s a far different view and climb than last weeks attempts. The rocks are very otherwordly. Anyway more of that later. We are spurred on by the following comical sign:



There are so many tourists going up here that we feel pretty safe. Once through the fence, you are now on a hill side, the breeze is slightly cooler which helps as the path is getting steeper. Its now a real challenge to spur yourself(and your mates) on to getting up as far as the old man. I promise that we can stop for lunch once we reach a large rock where the path turns in on itself. We struggle up the path, and sit down for a good rest and to tuck into a cold tin of soup each with a side order of a morning roll and a mars bar. It doesn’t matter what you eat when you are climbing, it always tastes wonderful.

I was concerned at the bottom of the hill that 3 litres of water might not be enough between the two of us, but this falls by the wayside, when some typical American toursists pass. Not only are they going up the storr path(a 5 hour hike), rather than the simpler old man path, they say that they regretted not bringing any water. No wonder the mountain rescue teams are kept in a job. I wouldn’t fancy a flat 5 hour walk without water in what has become quite a sunny day, but climbing along a sharp ridge of rocks where there are signs everywhere telling you not to go any further is just madness. I realised on Ben Lomond how much you have to respect nature.

Weare puggled. I decide that I am going to go a little further up into mordor for a few photos, and then, we’ll hit the road again. The weather is now beautiful, so we are keener to get road the island.



I head further up the path – and with each step, you get further into these otherworldly rocks. There is a great needle of rock. Which is a structure is far more impressive than the old man. You can imagine a giant being impaled on this in some alien fight across planets.



The ground below me is now all shingle – its very dangerous, as pointed out by the following sign:



I decide that I am going to climb up to the bottom of the old man – as there isn’t really anywhere to fall to on the back side of it. Behind it, you stand in a valley of these amazing rocks:



So I clamber up a landslide of shingle in order to get to the foot of the old man. I soon regret doing this, when I realise how long it’s going to take me to get back down, but I did rise to the challenge of reaching at least a little peak. The ground around the bottom of the old man is other worldy, it’s hollowed out a little like a cave, which adds to the sense of adventure.



From here I can see down to all the people below, and I realise how high I am. There is really a magnificent view on what has become a wonderfully sunny day.



So we go back down – full of adrenalin and proud to be Scottish mountain climbers. Theres always that bouce in your step on the way down having achieved something. In the car park we meet some English tourists, who go on and on about how beautiful our country is. We can only jokingly inform them that it’s a shame about our neighbours. I think the joke was taken in good spirits. They als tell us that at one point while out walking, they asked a passing driver if he knew where X was. He replied “aye” and drove on. Such is the dry wit of Scotland.

So its further on round the island. The weather is unbelievable – it’s rare to see sctland like this, and theres a real feeling that we may never see this part of Scotland in such beautiful weather again. We are pretty thirsty and cood do with refueling in the form of some water. We manege to stop at a little village store. They have about 3 cans of cola in the fridge and a bottle of irn bru. We realise how remote “remote” is, and how we have become accustomed to having evain available more readily. The next real stop is at a viewpoint which over looks some cliffs and a pretty waterfall. It’s a real tourist trap, mainly cos of the following views:





Theres a huge sign with lots of languages. The English at the top says “Crumbling rocks onto sheer drop cliff – beware” or whatever. An American woman pnders as to what all the other weird and wonderful languages could mean. My mate informs her, that they say “If you drop you’re false teeth – you’ve lost them”

And we’re off again – the single track roads are in full flow again – as is the enthusiastic waving. The views we can see here are the outer Hebrides. You also get to see some good views of another very different mountain range called the Quarraing, which include a hill with a completely flat top. The locals even play shinty on it. Maybe we’ll climb that next time.



This not only makes us feel very adventurous and far north – but we also decide(Probably because of the monotony of winding roads) that Hebrides could be a type of transvestite.

At a reasonable rate we manage to get back round to Portree and buy ourselves some dinner for the evening. We have decided to drive back round through the cuillins, and make camp back in Kyle of lochalsh, in order to see as much as possible in the short time we are out driving.

After portree we make our first stop off at Dunvegan castle – it’s pretty disappointing. Maybe just beside the mountains – or maybe cos it cost us to get in, and all we wanted was a leg stretch:



This area of skyw is different again, it between two pininsulla’s so has stiller water, more like lochs. We continue on down, in the baking heat looking forward to the vistas we know we’ll get at the cuillins



After a quick detour to talisker distillery,



We have views of some of the nicest mountains in Skye/Scotland/UK. They really are beautiful. Photos can’t do them justice, you just have to go. I will one day make it up at least a little bit of these mountains.







We kind of know that that’s it. We’ve see Skye in a day – its been wonderful. I’m sure we became a little more patriotic today. We take a small detour via Armadale to confirm that we’ve missed the last ferry, but gte to marvel at the millpond like sea, and the views of the mainland:



and also take a quick look at the island of Eigg:



The evening finishes back in Kyle of lochalsh, with a campfire on the beach over looking the cullins by night,


And Eilean Donan Castle



Until tomorrow…..

Over the sea to Skye

Now I get the more exotic trip I’d hoped for. It’s only going to last for 3 days, and it’s not the full car I’d hoped for, but I am getting to go quite exotically north with old friends, so I can’t really complain.

Due to various working ours, time restrictions, and prior engagements, we set out from Ayrshire at about 4pm. It’s then a solid drive up the west of Scotland to Kyle of Lochalsh. The initial few hours is well known to me. Glasgow, then up Loch Lomond, through Tyndrum and up to the wonderfully picturesque glen coe. Although I’m not Munro Bagging(we have smokers in our party), we do do a bit of Munro spotting. Theres several mountains which I know well which could be future weekend expeditions from Amsterdam. I’d quite like to do Buachaille Etive Mor, but we’ll see.



We continue north. It’s now about 8pm, so too late to visit my Grandmother who lives up here. We opt instead to head down the Fort William road. Although I’ve been along here, it is newer territory. Fort William is the village beside the tallest mountain in Britain, Ben Nevis. The view of Ben is pretty crap from Fort William, but continuing along on our trajectory, we eventually get some far better views.



Ben Nevis, although the tallest mountain, is quite easy to climb. There’s even a cable car which will take you most of the way up I think.

The road to Kyle of lochalsh is known to be very picturesque. We are very lucky to have some reasonably clear weather. It’s cloudy, but its warm and you can see quite far. Eventually you climb to a level where you can see down across loch ???? over to some serious mountains(?????). We get out for a well earned leg stretch. They have a viewpoint which tells you the names of all the mountains and their heights. I’ve never heard of any of them.



The sun is now low in the sky. Everything is bathed in an orange glow, and we continue along the seemingly endless winding roads. This is very similar to Glencoe. I think this is Glensheil. The mountains stretch up high on both sides of a winding road. It’s late in the evening (but still daylight), so there are not that many cars on the road. It really starts to feel like an adventure. Its really easy to become a little boy dreaming of Lord of the rings and huge treks along mountainous terrains when you are in Scotland. This particular area – given it’s heavy rainfall – is a lush green. It could be rivendale, the home of the elves. Geekish as that sounds, its one of the few ways to describe the vistas. Finally after almost 6 hours of driving, I see the site that lets me know I’m nearly there. Eilean Donan Castle:



Eilean Donan Castle is one of the most Picturesque castles in Scotland/UK/Europe/The world. It IS picture postcard Scotland. It has a beautiful old bridge which leads up to a very well preserved keep. It has been used in countless films, and because it is surrounded by both lochs, views and mountains, it makes you feel very proud to be Scottish. For me, it is a marker that we are only 10 miles from Skye. We decided a while down the road, that since we knew there was a campsite in Kyle of Lochalsh, that we would pitch for the night there, and go to Skye completely fresh the next day. On our way to camping, we could see the bridge to Skye.



The bridge to Skye was extremely controversial when it was built, There used to be a ferry, but it was decided to build a bridge, which ruined the view from Kyle of Lochalsh.

So we set up camp for the night, cook a very lush and non camping dinner, swear a lot at midgies, and then head to the local bar for a few night caps.

North of the Island and home

Having completed the south of the Island(Brodick – Whiting bay – Kildonan – Machrie – Whiting Bay), today we decided to go north. This involved a very quick reminiscence trip to Brodick Castle, home of many a boyhood woodland and castle adventure:



We then drove past Corrie and down to Lochranza, via a quick toilet stop at North Sannox. I don’t remember the mountains looking so impressive:



Lochranza is much sleepier than Brodick. It too sports a castle, beach and ferry(to Cabletown). Although Brodick castle is rumoured to have hosted Robert the Bruce at some point, it has that kind of country house feel. Lochranza castle on the other hand is ruined, so feels much better when you are an 8 yr old child running about with a plastic sword.



Lohcranza itself has a new distillery since the last time I was here. It unveils it’s first 10 yr old malts next week. I must be getting old!!!



Today is a much slower day, we drive round the top of the isalnd ond on to Machrie, before returning across the middle of the island, which lets you dricvwe througfh the picturesque stirng rioad(It’s windy). I remember it with dread as a child, because it menat a really long drive, but 20 miles is a far shorter drive now, and the views of Goatfell are immense.

I’ve been really lucky with the weather. The light hits on the mountains, making them crisp against the blue sky. Bad weather can also make for some good views, but I’m glad it’s sunny.



I feel sadness at leaving Arran(It took me ten years to come back last time), but I’ve got so many interesting and new trips ahead of me, that I can’t stay long, and another day on the island without climbing Goatfell would’ve done my box in.

Standing Stones - Machrie

Once you are on the south of the Island(On a good day), you look onto Kintyre. Kintyre is the peninsula on the other side of Arran, from the song Mull of Kintyre. It’s so clear today, that you can see Ireland between Kintyre and the island of Sanda.



We are continuing round the island to Machrie. The sun is now high in the blue sky. Arran ignores the cliché of Scottish weather in the summer. In 15 or so trips in early July, I’ve seen more sunburn than I’ve seen umbrellas.

We can now see Goatfell and it’s surrounding peaks. Although technically I think we’re still in Ayrshire, we get a vista more associated with the highlands.



We have now come to Machrie, to see another of Arran’s attractions; The standing stones. Standing stones, most famously at Stonehenge, are extremely old relics of past civilisations. These stones in Arran are from a round 2000 BC.

The walk of around a mile takes you along a dirt path in front of the mountain vistas and through fields of sheep, who look on wondering what you find so interesting about their field.



The Machrie standing stones are the remains of six round burial grounds surrounded on their circumference by boulders. Not all are still standing, but the most impressive are one 3 or 4 meter tall standings tone which stands alone, and a collection of about 3 standing stones.






It’s a mini Stonehenge, very peaceful, and very picturesque, and since it is a short drive and a miles walk, shouldn't be missed. As a burial ground, it makes a pretty good resting-place. It lies on a plain(Machrie means plain in Gaelic), surrounded by mountain vistas.

Kildonan Seals

Once I was on the island and settled, and we’d had a wander along the bay in Brodick to the bakers, we decided to take a walk that my parents take quite regularly. For want of a better name, we’ll call it “Kildonan seal spotting”.

Kildonan is a small village on the south east of the island. Going south on the island is interesting. Brodick has a constant flow of walkers, climbers, cyclists, children and golfers, but going south, you get further away from that.

I’m amazed how short a distance it is from Brodick to whiting bay (where my parents are staying), and then whiting bay to Kildonan. Distances took much longer when we were kids. I remember hours on end in the back of the car, all listening to Queen greatest hits, or playing gameboys. It could be that I’ve been in NL for too long, or that the weather is good, but the scenery is encapsulating. It’s great to be back.



As usual with Scottish weather, although it looked shitty an hour ago, now it’s blue skys and we get to look over a small Island (Pladda) and Ailsa Craig. Ailsa Craig is a dome shaped island low on the firth of Clyde. It’s sometimes called “Paddy’s Milestone” because of it’s proximity to Ireland, but we’ll stay in Kildonan just now.

Kildonan is a sleepy little village, with a few houses, a hotel, a campsite and a beautiful view. We are here because a mile’s walk along the rocky beach is where grey seals bask on the rocks. So we walk along the beach, sand, rocks and seaweed. It’s great climbing over the rocks. Memories abound of running around when the biggest disaster that could befall you was a skint knee.



As we walk along, we see two heron’s on the rocks. I’m pretty surprised. Heron’s are common in NL, but they used to be a pretty rare sight in Arran. Now they are two a penny.

Eventually, we get out to a line of rocks which protrude into the sea. At the end of the rocks there are about 15 seals basking on the rocks. First we have a good look at them through the telescope, and see their curious puppy dog like faces, then I decide to move out across the rocks to get some photos. I’ve done this before as a kid. You need to move from rock to rock, but each time you reach a new rock, you have to stay still for a minute or two so that the seals get used to you. If you misjudge it or move too fast, you lose one. It’s like a computer game, you have 15 lives, one wrong footing requiring a reflex wobble, and you lose one.

Eventually I get down as far as the rocks will let me. I’m not close enough for close ups, but I manage to get a few memory shots.



This is the beauty of digital photography. I take a photo of the same seals from every rock in case it’s the closest I get without them moving away.

Each seal who has slid off, then sits in the water with it’s eyes sticking out of the water watching you. They look like overweight slobs, but they will move like cats if they decide you are a threat.