Scotland: Or how to stop wishing in one hand…Part 1

The Surprise Trip Across the Atlantic

From Mac:

So this trip began when Jess and I were talking to my mom about Scotland over dinner in Wilmington, N.C. (where ma lives). After several minutes of small but interesting banter about read facts and speculation on culture and country I said,”Let’s go!”Under 10 more sentences were said about the subject, all punctuated by another “let’s go”, and an agreement was met- we all should go to Scotland! As I have participated in many (many) inane conversations about excited noun ridden plans – where’s, how’s,and when’s – I thought fruition to have about a 15% chance…

Until my mom called a week later telling me and Jess she- a 64 year old women- had purchased her first passport and had paid to have it expedited just to make sure it would be in hand in time for the trip! This was particularly shocking considering her slightly xenophobic nature and because she spent her early pre-mother days as a major airline stewardess (domestic to be sure)!

From Jess:

As Mac has said, Scotland wasn’t exactly an extensively planned trip…starting as a mere suggestion in passing conversation about being of Scottish descent and wishing to visit the ‘homeland’, it quickly gained momentum with Kris becoming the catalyst for making this dream a reality despite the possibility that we (Mac and I) might not be able to afford such a trip. I had just quit the full-time job that was making me miserable and embarked on a journey of self-employment. This combined with the rising air fare and conversion rates were certainly working against us. Limited budget, bad prices and short planning time made this look not only difficult but nearly impossible…as Mac said we were trying to make soup out of sand.

Most of our trips are planned (sometimes haphazardly) by Mac or myself but with this one having added importance of not only including my partner’s mother, it was her first trip abroad so I thought it would be best to have a travel agent take care of the planning (I mean, I didn’t want to take the heat if things went wrong!). I spent some of our precious planning time researching travel agents and after contacting them, settled on one that sounded like she not only had knowledge of Scotland, she could also work with our budget. She and I settled on a basic itinerary over e-mail and made an appointment for me to call with credit card numbers because the flights were going up – and quickly. I called and got her voicemail at the designated time. After a little bit of time, I followed up with an e-mail. The next day, after no response, I called again. And then e-mailed. I looked at the flights and saw they were indeed creeping up to a rate that I was sure we couldn’t afford. Panic was setting in. What if we had made all these promises to Kris (Mac’s mom) and we couldn’t deliver???

I tried again and again to contact the travel agent (who will go unnamed) but no response whatsoever. After a week or so of silently panicking – I checked the airfare prices on the now defunct Bing Travel Predictor (as I had every day since we decided that we might actually go to Scotland) and on this particular Tuesday, just a little more than a month away, the airfare had dropped over 20%. I frantically called Kris and we decided that we should buy the tickets and plan the trip sans travel agent (who never did get back to me). I quickly bought the 3 plane tickets, made a rental car reservation and then proceeded to spend the next eight hours planning our route and making hotel reservations (the lack of a full-time job really came in handy here). After all that panic and anxiety – we were actually going to go to Scotland!

The three of us were more giddy than the school children on a snow day. We hastily researched places and activities and faster than we knew it – the trip had arrived. Even at the airport, going through security four hours before our flight, waiting at the gate for said four hours, the additional five hours of delays (accompanied by adjusting our connecting flights twice for these delays) we still maintained an insane amount of excitement. It wasn’t until we had boarded the plane close to midnight only to be told by the loud speaker, after everyone had settled in, that the plane couldn’t take off that we lost a lot of that excitement. Having the 1-800 number on speed dial (from all of the previous delays), our worst fears were confirmed: Not only were we not going to Scotland that night – the next available flight (according to the person on the phone) was 4 days later. As we made our way through the long line, on the verge of tears, to the airline counter to get hotel accommodation for the night and to finalize plane changes, we finally had a break of luck and the woman behind the counter was able to put us on another flight that would leave the next day – with a minor change that we would arrive in a different city: Glasgow rather than Edinburgh. We rejoiced and accepted this change and made our way to join the rest of the weary travelers to be shuttled to the hotel. After a few restless hours of sleep I began the next round of frantic phone calls to change our plans to pick up a car in Glasgow and switch our first day’s itinerary in Scotland to a new, last day’s itinerary so that we wouldn’t miss a day in Glorious Scotland. After a few hours, the changes were made and we were on our way to the airport where we were able to successfully make our way through the air to Scotland. Giddiness resumed!

Best Laid Schemes and the Best Welcoming

From Jess:

As is typical with Americans (or so the stereotype goes) we had planned on covering a lot of ground in just a small amount of time. We had set aside 10 days – with 2 travel days – to explore Scotland. The original plan had us landing in Edinburgh where we would spend the night so that we wouldn’t have to drive weary after the plane trip and we could relax some before heading to the next stop. There were a few ‘must haves for the trip’ and some of our stops were chosen so that we wouldn’t have to drive too long in between those destinations. With the delay and the change of airports – the carefully chosen routes (with directions carefully printed out from address to address) from our Edinburgh hotel to the next night’s accommodations were no longer of use to us. As a famous Scot once said: “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Gang aft a-gley.” (If you don’t get this reference Google Robert Burns and educate yo’self!)

Once landing in Glasgow and picking up our adorable, European-sized car, we crammed our large, fatigued, American bodies inside and took trust that our rented Sat-Nav (what we Americans call a GPS) would get us to our new, first destination. Because I drive a stick shift here in the States and have driven (quite competently) before in other countries including those who drive on the wrong side of the road (sorry – but it’s true) I had felt very confident about taking the wheel. It was easy going until the Sat Nav instructed us to “navigate off road” onto some of the most terrifying roads in horrifying wind conditions – that I can now verify after two trips to Scotland – I am sure it has to offer. Being exhausted, jet-lagged, recovering from motion sickness on the plane and dealing with high winds and rain probably didn’t help. We wordlessly arrived at our destination – we were all so terrified that this was the tone that was set for the rest of the trip that we had not spoken for the entirety of the car trip – we had our first real meal in two days, went to our respective rooms and napped, showered and cried (maybe I’m joking?).

From Mac:

The red hot mess of panic and horrific airport mall malaise that ensued, Jessica has well covered. When we finally arrived, limp and covered in what can only be described as travel grease, we hopped in the car and went on, even by Scottish standards, an arduous road trip. Looking at the map, Glasgow to the small town in Aberdeenshire, where we were staying would appear to be a breeze, but given our fatigue and the weather, it became, possibly, the most beautiful automobile hellscape conceivable to man. This backwards, narrow, and twisting road revealed around every excessively sharp curve and blind summit a more spectacular view than the previous. Even in our scared sh*tless states we could recognize the beauty here. When we arrived in the very small town meant to be our 2nd destination after a 4 hr drive, there was a real sense that we had made it. Relief set in. WE NEEDED TO CLOSE OUR EYES. Then we needed a drink.

After an hour and a shower Jess and I left ma to sleep and went for a walk that ultimately ended at the pub. We had time to grab a quick pint and then head back to the hotel for a late dinner, which on my terms left far too little time to catch a “proper” buzz. Or even a sufficient one, as everything in the country of our forefathers origin (especially in wee towns) closes by 9:30. So imagine my elation when the smiling barkeep asked us if we were going to come back later for the music and extended hours. After a sycronized “whawhawhawhat?” she went on to explain that, in this particular pinpoint on the map of Scotia, Tuesday night is when all the most brilliant, traditional musicians in the surrounding area come out of the woodwork for a spectacular hoedown (what we, from Appalachia call a good time). After two trips this was by far, the friendliest, most authentically Scottish experience we had. We reckoned (because of our remote upbringings in Appalachia) that the locals were fascinated by our presence merely because we had stories that they hadn’t heard a bazillion times told in a funny accent. But it is much more likely that we had descended on a town of kind, generous, talented and welcoming people on a night were they really got to cut loose and not worry about the drudgery of the day-to-day. I would like to thank these good people again for sharing there fellowship with two punch drunk tourists, washing away our sweaty miseries with a cup o kindness. Scotland man!

Exploring East

From Jess:

The next day, we were in better spirits but we had a small scare when it looked like Kris might be having a medical emergency – this prevented us on taking up an offer to explore the nearby area with a guide – but after a quick trip to the local pharmacist, it was deemed that a trip to the doctor (or emergency room) wasn’t necessary. With our bellies full of our first full Scottish breakfast – we set out east to explore the first castle of our trip: Craigievar.

Since my family are Forbes (emigrating from Scotland to North Carolina in the way back) I was excited to see the areas where they lived and explore at least one the fancy abodes that other Forbes lived in (I’m sure that my ancestors where of the poor farmer types, not the showy castle types). We arrived at this fairy-tale-like castle in the typical Scottish weather of cold rain and grey skies and discovered that there was another small casualty in the well-laid plans that we had made back home. Arriving on a Wednesday, instead of Tuesday before we checked into the planned 2nd hotel – the castle was closed and so we had to make do with looking round the outside of the castle, taking a few, quick photos before heading Eastward. Despite this disappointment – it was a beautiful scene and the silver lining to it being closed was there weren’t many other tourists about to ruin our shots.

From Mac:

As we headed east towards Aberdeen we were met with blue skies and crisp weather, just what you need after a summer of outdoor manual labor in hot, humid Chapel Hill. Since we were still a little shell-shocked from being around lots of other humans in airports we decided to skip checking out Aberdeen and head south and take a break in Stonehaven. After finding a place to park we dinked*(see footnote) around the town grabbing a cup of tea, finding yarn shops and public bathrooms before making our way down to a boulder ridden crescent coastline looking east. Sitting there imagining the blood thirsty Viking hoards splashing onto that shoreline brandishing sword and shield for glories untold was oddly cathartic. We jumped into the car for another mini-adventure and made our way to a car park where we could make out a dark structure that, at first glance, you could tell was centuries older than our own country. Our first ruin was called Dunnottar, green with decay but as foreboding as the landscape that encapsulated it.

While the walk up to this ruin isn’t terribly difficult there are a lot of stairs, plenty enough to leave Jess and I out of breath, let alone my Mom. In fact, I would go ahead and recommend being in at least decent shape before planning a trip to Scotland as the landscape, even at its most forgiving, is an ass kicker. Of course, this adds even more of a reward to the already incentivized beauty. After dinking around Dunnottar, imagining medieval life and snapping pics, we headed back to our B&B for another warm, nourishing meal and a comfortable night’s sleep.

North by Northwest

From Mac:

The next day, we pointed ourselves north to Inverness. The most striking thing about this town to me was how clean it was. Split in half by the river Ness (yep, it comes from the ever famous Loch Ness) it is the metropolitan hub of the north. But regardless of the amount of commerce that goes down here, you can still see people fly fishing the river’s waters. And I’m not talking about upstream either, I’m talking about smack in the heart of down town! Now, I am a Patriot, but I dare you to name a major city in the US you would consider eating a fish that was pulled out of its predominant waterway. To be honest, we didn’t spend too much time in Inverness as it was a mid-point stop-off before Skye. But we ate, drank and slept well and hit the road upstream towards the Isle of Skye via the shores of Loch Ness.

From Jess:

Inverness was indeed a beautiful city but after years of self-denial, I realize that I am a country mouse, not a city mouse and much prefer open landscapes to cement cityscapes. So as we continue on this adventure in blogging, you might notice that we do tend to kind of skip-over the bigger towns and cities. Sorry! It’s just not our thing!

Every drive we took so far in our trip was absolutely stunning and the journey from Inverness to Skye was not a disappointment (even if we didn’t see the fabled monster of Loch Ness). Along the way we saw the dramatic site of Urquhart Castle as it crumbles on the shore of Loch Ness and the absolutely picturesque Eilean Donan Castle residing on it’s island throne where three lochs meet. Stopping to take pictures (we were too early to tour), we couldn’t imagine a more magnificent landscape. Until we got to Skye that is….

*Dink-this is a made up verb and noun for Mac. One can “dink” i.e. pass some time with no real agenda or one can see a “dinker” which is, in most cases, a waterfall.