Wish in one hand…or travel?

From Jess:

I had worked myself up to believing that Skye would be a tourist trap.  One of those places you talk about going just because everyone else talked about going there.  But as we arrived on the island, I found myself holding my breath – too afraid to breathe away the beauty.  This place was more than beautiful, it was literally breathtaking.  I’ll talk more about the touristyness of the place in our post on our most recent trip to Scotland but for this magical weekend in 2013, there really weren’t that many tourists.  I was completely shocked.

As Mac and Kris made their way to Seamas’ Bar to enjoy a nice half-pint before we got back in the car to journey for an indeterminable amount of time (like in the mountains where we grew up, in Scotland you should never judge a trip by the distance between two points, these are not linear passages but rather meandering works of art) I couldn’t be pried away from that first viewing of the Cuillins.  While I had experienced some pretty incredible landscapes in Iceland – there is something about those hills that is…special.  Like Mac said, words can’t do it justice.  It was uncontrollable how much I wanted to just run for those hills!  And not because of fear of something coming after me – but because I wanted to be close to them.

Once Mac and Kris dragged me away from the trails, we continued north in search of our home for the next two nights.  After stopping at the local grocery to get directions (our Sat Nav totally bailed on us) we ended up meeting the nicest man who lead us up to the Skeabost House Hotel where we had one of the more magical stays during our trip.  I won’t speak too much on this as it does seem that they underwent a pretty big remodel since we stayed there and a lot of the old-fashioned decor and warmth we took comfort in has been replaced by a much more modern look and feel (again, maybe it’s just the country mouse in me but I prefer the pre-remodel look).  But the grounds were (and I imagine are still) lovely so we wandered around there until our rooms were ready and as if on cue, it started raining.  Instantly depressed that we had missed our opportunity to commune with nature, we settled into a light lunch.  In another strike of good fortune, as we finished eating – the rain stopped.  We raced outside and made our way to a little trail known (NOT little known trail) as the Fairy Pools.

The funny thing about Scotland is that around every corner or bend we would exclaim ‘This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen!’ and then as we rounded the next bend or corner ‘Oh sh*t! This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen!’ and so on and so on.  So it shouldn’t have been a surprise that as we walked up to this trail we were all gasping in awe. Mac and I  could have spent the next 12 hours racing up the trails and mountains but alas, we had only a limited amount of time to explore before heading back to the hotel.

After a particularly delicious meal at our hotel, a lively snooker game in the hotel’s game room, and a fabulous night’s sleep we awoke feeling refreshed and ready to explore the island.

From Jess:

We were given the advice to visit Dunvegan because it was “what one would imagine Camelot looking like”.  Following with the theme of the trip which was “Not Disappointing (Always Impressive)” Dunvegan was just as beautiful as described.  Perched on a beautiful bay – it is very foreboding but magnificent structure that boasts being the oldest continuously inhabited castle in Scotland.

Making our way around the island – we drove to Neist Point which, so far, is the most scenic light house location I have ever seen.  The sea cliffs on Skye are dramatic and impressive and impossible to imagine how they were formed. The land juts out, zigging and zagging, dropping and rising in a way that it is almost easy to imagine that the land was formed on a dare to mimic lightening.  And then there is a the exclamation point of having a striking lighthouse placed at the end of this remarkable promontory. Breathtaking! There is an unspoken rule (unspoken because it is obvious) that while in Scotland one should be prepared for rain at any moment. In our excitement of seeing this place – Mac & I literally ran from the car giggling like school children – leaving behind our rain shells and umbrellas. We found a high vantage point to take in the scene and ignored what looked like a light fog rolling in off the sea.  As we snapped photos and frolicked (seriously, like children) the faint mist suddenly enveloped us and we were instantly drenched.  We had been in downpours and in fog – but this was neither and both.  It happened so fast that we barely had time to put our cameras away before they were as soaked as us.  We ran down the hill to the car park where everyone was seemingly laughing at us from the dry safety of their cars, ponchos or umbrellas including Kris – who had found safety in the car before being caught in the wet.

Shaking and shivering, we cranked up the heat in the car and made our way back to the hotel for lunch having a small traffic stop to allow a herd of cattle to travel along the road (be careful while driving – there are more than just cars that share the road!).  After lunch, Mac and I embarked on a adventure so that Kris could stay at the hotel and finally get some R&R (it is exhausting to be around two adults who insist on behaving like small children).  We snaked our way along the island looking at Old Man Storr, Kilt Rock and it’s magnificent waterfall, a Highland Coo traffic jam and a black sand beach.  The island shares some similarities to the dramatic landscape of Iceland but really is unlike anywhere that I’ve ever been…

From Mac:

Dunvegan is the namesake of a rocky outcrop near the mountains that I grew up hiking, sledding and waging all out war with my three brothers in the high country of NC. I had no idea  where the name came from until  I visited the MacDonald castle in the northwest of Skye. This stronghold of the clan boasts wonderful panoramic views of the loch from its turrets and a super beautiful garden to waste time in before you figure out that Neist Point is fifteen minutes away.

A curvy, unpaved, single-lane road, complete with highland coo (a.k.a. “hippie cows” as they are called in the NC mountains) road blocks and aloof sheep sauntering slowly out of the way, leads you to one of the best, heart stopping seascape vistas of western Skye. Just off the main coastal cliff juts a giant, green nuckle defying the azure sky trying in vain to hide a white gilded light house as if the land didn’t quit finish flipping the sea the bird. Just f*cking gorgeous. Staring out at the awe-inspiring view we watched menacing low lying clouds roll in and we took our first real Scottish soaking. It was nothing like rain, more like a lake climbed a ladder, caught a breeze, and passed through us. We were as wet as we would have been if we had jumped into the ocean below, minus the time it would have taken to descend. As we returned to the car we found Mom safe, dry and spent. So we left her at the hotel to get some rest as we journeyed on. We spent the afternoon exploring the Trotternish peninsula taking small hikes off the main road, trying to soak up as much Skye as we could on our last night as we had heard harsh weather was due for that evening.

The next morning we awoke to the north sea slapping us in the face (just as promised), and so we pushed south off the island. Little did we know that every tiny crag, every descending rocky outcrop, every gully, ditch, or pitted place in the earth would be BRIMMING with water! The rivers we passed on the way in, all category twos at best in their rough patches had become pure death at their gentlest bends. DINKERS, DINKERS everywhere! The majesty of rushing water is something I have never been able to get over, but this was beyond comprehension. It was like rapid eye movement all over. Unfortunately, the schedule demanded we press on.

It’s over. No wait, it’s just the beginning of the end.

From Jess:

Escaping the threat of nightmarish weather we made our way eastward into the mainland of Scotland to the town of Pitlochry. A stoic silence had fallen over our trio as all of us (as it was discovered once we did talk) felt a very strange longing and depression from having left the Isle of Skye. If one were to divide our trip up into sections, this would have been the beginning of the end of the trip.  No real way to describe or explain it but sadly, our visit to the beautiful town of Pitlochry was tainted by this melancholy.  We each chose an activity to try and cheer ourselves up: Kris, reading a good book; us, finding a waterfall to hike around and look at. At the end of the day we just couldn’t shake the feeling that we really missed Skye.  A place that we had never visited before and we had only spend a small amount of time there – yet there was a definite sadness deep inside.  Aside from my home, I’ve never felt this way about a place before.  It is so illogical, this feeling, that it made all of us wonder if there was something truly magical about the island…

From Mac:

All together depressing to leave Skye we set out on an adventurous drive through the Highlands that was nothing less than lousy with fantastic views framed by rainbows. Are you f*cking kidding?! Tired from the trek and the afterglow of Skye we arrived in Pitlochry, an incredibly quaint town about dead middle of the country. Though we saw a pretty waterfall, toured the Edradour distillery (smallest and disputably, the coolest) and stayed in a manse-like hotel,  I don’t think this one night did the town justice. I recommend seeing this place on the way to the Hebrides rather than after.

Still going…

From Jess:

Having slept away our resentment at not still being on Skye – we arose early and made our way to Stirling.  Pulling into the city, you can see, perched on a hilltop like a golden crown, Stirling Castle.  Wanting to avoid the crowds (since it was still early) we made our way to the castle to take a tour. We toured the castle until we had exhausted Kris and we could check into our hotel and have lunch.  After lunch, Mac and I raced off to our next bit of excitement at the Wallace Monument where I would again try to battle my fear of heights.

Arriving at the Wallace Monument we were given the choice of taking a shuttle or walking to the monument.  If able, we always try to choose the walk route (it’s like my Mom says, save the aided way until you actually need it) so we opted for the walk.  I’ll touch on this later but if a Scottish person says it is an easy walk, know that easy for them is on an entirely different scale.  While we had no problem walking to the monument, mentally we were surprised by what ‘easy’ looked like to a Scot.  Arriving at the monument, we made our way up the spiral staircase that not only tested my fear of heights but also my claustrophobia.  Clutching at the walls, I made my way to almost the top.  As I stepped out onto the landing where I was sure the wind would blow us all to our deaths, my knees totally bailed on me and there I stayed.  A grown-ass adult on her knees clutching a stone pillar as if her life literally depended on it.  I crawled to the stairs where I waited on Mac to take some photos of the view that I would never see for myself.  Score: 1 for Heights, 0 for Jess.

Having been defeated we walked around the town (on nice, safe, level-ground) where we couldn’t resist exclaiming just how beautiful it was (typical Americans, I know) and everytime – we kept getting the same bizarre response from everyone who could hear us: “Oh sure, but have you been to Edinburgh? Oh no? Well then.” This was never followed up with explanation and so it exponentially drove our curiosity up about our next and final stop.

From Mac:

After a soft breakfast in Pitlochry, we took our next (short) step to our departing flight. Though our minds were kicking and screaming for us halt, forward progress had its demands. Stirling was a surprisingly pretty town! This granite ladden relic boasts a fantastic castle, friendly people (ran across several high school students offering free hugs complete with signage) and a rich history. Well worth a stop if you need repose from the daunting Scottish wilderness. Sights to see include the Stirling bridge (where William Wallace made some history) Stirling castle and grave ground (we like saying grave ground), Holy Rude church, and the William Wallace Monument. This monument dedicated to a man that stood two heads taller than Mel Gibson, was a bit more effort to get to than just a brisk ‘walk’. A pretty steep, but mercifully zigzagged path up the hill west of town leads to an almost five storied spire of a museum dedicated to the patriot hero. By far the most exciting part is the NARROW spiraled steps to the panoramic balcony. This was a particular challenge for Jess given her fear of heights, but she came through like a champ even though the top balcony had nothing but a shin high concrete guard to keep you from a gust blowing you away to your doom. All in all, Stirling is a great, humble town with plenty of activities to keep the precocious traveler busy.

Last Stop

From Jess:

Here we were, the last two days of our trip in the lovely city of Edinburgh.  Having the brief introduction to how beautiful it was in Stirling, comparatively – once again, there was zero disappointment.  Like Stirling, Edinburgh has a magnificent castle perched high above the city.  Both castles are a series of buildings and definitely worthwhile to tour.  In particular the War Memorial within Edinburgh Castle is one of the most moving memorials I have ever seen.  No photos can be taken within making it something you must experience in person.

We next toured St. Giles Cathedral and visited some shops with Kris before meeting up with our friend Melissa (she also grew up in NC) who is lucky enough to live in Scotland.   She showed us some of the less touristy parts of the city as well as the super touristy Calton Hill, the somewhat bizarre collection of monuments that were built overlooking the city.

That night, on a recommendation from some friends, we booked a last minute reservation to an exquisite restaurant named The Witchery.  To this day, the three of us talk in whispered tones about our meal here…not being the types to take pictures of our food, much less write exhaustedly about it, you’ll just have to experience this yourselves!

From Mac:

Last stop! Edinburgh- totally overwhelming to take in in two nights. I feel like we barely scratched the surface of this city considering what whipped puppies we were by the time we got there. This city that was relatively untouched by WWII remains a pristine beacon of Scottish culture and perseverance. As you take the Royal Mile from the castle to the Holyrood, hearing bagpipes and smelling whisky and fish n’ chips,  you can’t help an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Whether or not it was distant family roots or the recent memory of a trip around a magical country, catharsis was palpable. After a trip around the mystical petri dish of Scotland it was nice to end it in the cultural epicenter.  And I think the pinpoint of this city is a little restaurant called The Witchery. You’ll spend a lot of money here,  but Jesus Christ, it’s good.

The next day we woke early to drive to the airport. Normally, no matter how much fun I’ve had while away I still feel the magnet of home with its familiar faces and creature comforts, but I am here to report that at this juncture I had never been more upset to be on my way back. My theory is that Scotland had all of home that I could want in it and more: friendly, loving people, beautiful landscapes, comforting grub and booze, not to mention my two best girls! Though I’m back to the grind of wishing in one hand I will forever be drawn to Scotland’s magnet. Don’t despair, we’ll be back!

From Jess:

Despite the rough start (on American soil) once we arrived in Scotland, the trip was…in one word?  Magical.  Scotland was everything we could want in a country of ancestral origin and as Mac said, I’ve never felt sadder leaving a vacation.  Once home I had dreams of being there again and we started to actually count the days until we could return…