We resumed European vacations last fall with a trip to the continent, spending several days in Paris and visiting Amsterdam and Bruges for the first time. During the trip we used rail and mass transit to get around. For this trip we wanted to once again mix some old with a heavy dose of new. We very much enjoyed Scotland back in 2018 and were determined to return and see some things we missed the last time. This would mean renting a car and driving to reach some of the more remote destinations. When planning, I was careful limit the amount of driving needed for any leg of the trip so we would have plenty of time available to stop wherever the whim might take us and not be in a rush.
The overall timing of the trip was determined by an activity we wanted to include. When chatting with the innkeeper outside of the B&B in Fort William in 2018, we saw a large plume of steam go up from the direction of the town center. Our host said it was the Jacobite steam train leaving the station. I investigated this upon our return and decided it was something I would like to experience. When checking on train tickets in early February of 2024 I saw if we wanted to ride the morning train at a first-class table for two there was only one date in August left. I quickly booked the tickets. We built the rest of the trip around that day, knowing we wanted to revisit Inverness and see The Isle of Skye for the first time. Since August is high season for Scotland, most of the planning and booking was done in February. Then there wasn’t too much to do other than wait with heightening anticipation.
Day 0 – August 15th (Over the Atlantic with Aer Lingus)
Given the bad traffic experiences we have had driving to Dulles airport, we looked for airfare from Richmond to Edinburgh. This added a lot of time and expense to the trip. Ultimately, we decided on braving the drive and flying out of Dulles once again. Our flight departs at 17:15, so we have the morning to get everything packed and drop the dogs off at the Crate Escape where they will spend the next ten days. We are on the road north by 11:30 and have a surprisingly decent drive. Traffic is heavy, as always, but rarely slows down to a crawl. We take a slightly different route which avoids the DC beltway, and we arrive at the airport in a little over two hours. We park in Garage 1, which has an underground walkway to the terminal.
The Aer Lingus counter is not too busy and we are soon at the front of the line. The agent is very helpful and even gets our known travel numbers for TSA pre-check added to our information. They reprint our boarding passes so we can skip the normal security lines. Security is quick and after making our way to the terminal via train we find we still have a couple of hours to kill. We decide to have a light bite and some wine at the Carrabba’s in concourse B. The food is unimpressive and we note to skip this place if in Dulles again. When the wine is finished, we stroll down to the gate and get ready to make the jump over the pond.
Aer Lingus is considered more of a discount carrier, but we had a good experience with them back in 2018. Things are decent so far, though we find booze on the flight is not free anymore. This is not a big deal and we get some wine for dinner to help with our sleep efforts. To that end both Rhonda and I take a sleeping pill shortly after the beverage service so it can start to kick in after the meal. Dinner comes a couple of hours into the flight. The meal is decent enough for airplane food. We both make attempts to get sleep and each of us have some success, getting about three to four hours of broken sleep. The airplane seats we are willing to pay for, economy, are not very conducive to relaxed sleeping.
Day 1 – August 16th (Hello, Europe)
We are both awake as the plane starts to cross Ireland and make its decent into Dublin. It is still dark outside so we rely on the few lights we see below and the flight tracking map on the screen in the back of the seat to know where we are. We land in Dublin a little after 5:00am. Getting through customs is quick and easy as the crowd is very light. We are soon walking towards the terminal where we’ll find our gate for the flight to Edinburgh. There is a restaurant we know of from our previous flight through Dublin called The Fallow Kitchen and Bar. It is here we had a pint of Guinness for breakfast previously and we plan to do so again this time. The place is fairly busy with the morning rush and we have to search a bit for a table. Fortunately, one opens up near the entrance with a view of the concourse so we will have a good spot for people watching. We both sit on the same side of the four-top table, facing outward. Things have changed with the pandemic and now most of the ordering is done at the tables with your phone through an app or on a website. We order a couple of Guinness, a croissant, and pancakes with banana and Nutella. Payment is made on the web site and then we began our favorite pastime of people watching. The stouts magically appear and we toast to the start of another European vacation. Shortly afterwards another person brings out the two plates. Rhonda enjoys the croissant with some butter and jam. My two pancakes are modest in size and enough for a light snack this morning. The airport is busy even at this early hour. Travelers both pass by and pause in front of us as they decided on which of the various shops and eateries to visit in this part of the concourse. A pair of elderly ladies approach and are obviously looking for a place to sit. We offer the chairs opposite of ours. They are grateful. They speak English to us, but another language amongst themselves. We think it is something from one of the lowland countries. They have a quick drink and snack as well and are on their way while we continue to sip our beer. Eventually we determine its time to move along and find our departure gate on the nearby monitor.
We take a long walk to the gate and locate a couple of empty seats next to each other. We lean upon one another and actually doze off. It is restless sleep, as there is plenty of activity around us, but the sleeping pill is still having its effect. After a while we wake realizing it is getting close to our departure time. We glance around and noticed that the most everyone is Middle Eastern in character. Looking outside the windows, I see an Air Emirates plane at what we thought was our gate. We realize we are in the wrong place. We return to the concourse and quickly check the departure board. Rhonda spots a flight going to Edinburgh and we began the long walk/run to the gate. I arrive first and see it is a Ryanair flight to Edinburgh, not Aer Lingus. We are wrong again. I identify the proper gate and head back, meeting Rhonda on her way to the wrong gate. We attempt to make the proper gate in time but fail. The gate is empty when we get there, but there is still an Aer Lingus employee behind the desk at the gate were supposed to have been at. We can tell by her expression as she sees us, we have missed our connecting flight to Edinburgh.
She informs us our bags had been taken off the flight and we will have to go upstairs to retrieve them. She also tells us where to in the concourse and to find an Aer Lingus employee who will be able let us into the controlled area. It is there we will have to pick up the bags so we can recheck them for whichever flight we find. She does a brief look for us and sees the next few flights to Edinburgh are full. We thank her for the help and slowly make our way back towards to gate where we need to find an employee. When we reach the area there is no one around, passengers or employees. We spot an environmental services person and ask if there is an Aer Lingus employee around. They say they haven’t seen any. Rhonda then recalls we passed the Aer Lingus lounge on our way to this gate. We backtrack to the lounge and there are two ladies inside the door at the reception desk. We explain the situation and the older of the two says she was going for her break and would take us where we need to go. We follow her and she gets us through a string to controlled entrance doors, upstairs and to the area where the bag pickup for transfer flights is located. She tells us which carousel our bags will be on and where to go from there. We thank her heartily for taking her break time to help us and then we walk down to the carousel to find our bags already waiting for us.
We make our way out to the arrival area and then upstairs to departures. We find the customer service desk next to the Aer Lingus check-in counters at the end of the departure hall. There are about half a dozen parties in front of us in line and only a couple of agents working the counter. We join the queue and wait to see what our fate will be. There is a lot of going back and forth between this customer service desk and the check-in counters as the agents work on getting things straightened out with various travelers. Eventually it is our turn and we approach the desk and a very pleasant lady greets us. We explain the situation, that we missed our connection and needed to get to Edinburgh today, if possible. She says there is a 6:30 flight she can get us on, or a 2:30 flight to Glasgow and then we could get the bus or other transportation from there to Edinburgh. Rhonda asks if we can check our bags early and the agent says that wouldn’t be a problem. After a very brief consideration we opt for the 6:30 flight. We pay the rebooking fee and soon we have our new boarding passes and a plan.
Rhonda takes our boarding passes and walks over to the automated check-in area while I get jackets from our large bags and pack away some things from our carry-on bags. The first fellow Rhonda asks about checking bags at 9:00am for a 6:30pm flight says it is too early. Another lady nearby hears the query and approaches. She says checking them this early will not be a problem and she will take care of it. While Rhonda verifies being able to check the bags early, I call Enterprise to let them know we’re going to be late picking up the car. I also update my reservation at the Airport Marriott noting will be a late arrival. We use the terminals to get the bag tags printed. Once attached they are dropped off to wait behind the scenes for our evening flight. With our luggage handled and our flight more than nine hours away, it is time to take advantage of the situation. Being flexible while traveling is a key component to having a good trip. If we get all bent out of shape because things didn’t go precisely at planned, we would just be full of angst and the situation wouldn’t change. While initially disappointed we missed our connection, we decide to put a positive spin on things and take advantage of the time and make an unplanned visit to the center of Dublin. The weather is good here in Ireland and is predicted to be cooler and possibly rainy in Edinburgh. We will find the crowds are smaller on a Friday in Dublin than they would likely be in Edinburgh during the Fringe. It actually seems like our unplanned nap has put us in a position to have a better day than what we had originally planned. Our trips tend to have happy accidents which enrich our experience. Being flexible and having a good attitude allows us to take advantage of them.
We make our way out to the taxi stand and find numerous taxis waiting for their morning fares. As we walk up to the curb one driver pops out of his car and asks where we are headed. We state, “Temple Bar”, and he tells us to hop in. Soon we are under way. We explain we are headed downtown and he can drop us anywhere near center the city. He says he will get us on the south side of the river between Trinity College and Temple Bar. The ride is about half an hour and we pass it very pleasantly in conversation with our amiable driver. We say some fish and chips for lunch would be excellent and he recommends this favorite place which also happens to be quite renowned in the city. We take note of the name and where we can find it. Then he claims after talking about fish and chips with us he feels quite in the mood for them himself. We ask him about the return trip. He explains it will still be about a half hour drive at that time of day and lets us know where to find a taxi downtown. He drops us off where promised. We settle up with many thanks and wishes for a pleasant day. Once on the curb we begin our stroll a couple of blocks to the River Liffey.
Our first task is to find a pharmacy. Rhonda needs a nail file to take care of the broken nail she received when handling the bags. She doesn’t want to snag it on anything and make the situation worse. I want to find some Carmex as what I have is in the checked bags. We arrive at the river and cross over the Ha’Penny bridge to the north bank. We turn towards the main north-south drag on which we saw a lot of shopping on our way down from the airport. We find a small pharmacy less than half a block up O’Connell Street. With our purchases in hand, we cross to the median between Upper and Lower O’Connell. There is a monument to Mr. O’Connell here on his namesake street. He stands at the top of the marble edifice with a dour look on his face, gazing towards the bridge over the Liffey that bears his name as well. A pigeon enjoys the high perch of his head, caring not a whit for the importance of his legacy. We enjoy the sun and scene around us as Rhonda makes quick work of deburring her fingernail. While walking back down along the north side of the river we decide to stop into the Arlington for some tea. The Arlington is a pub and restaurant which faces the street and river beyond with a lot of open windows providing a panorama. The hostess seats us at a table with a nice view of the outside. We order a couple of cups of Early Grey and some toast. We sit and sip, enjoying the fine weather. After the second cups from our pots are gone, we head back out to the street.
We have no real aim and stroll along enjoying the lovely day. After crossing back over the Ha’Penny bridge we stumble across a fancy looking whisky shop appropriately named The Whiskey Reserve. We pop in to have a look around. There is a small bar near the front and many tables spread around the shop. They offer tastings and flights. All the walls are lined with shelves and cabinets with glass doors. The whisky collection is quite extensive, and we have fun looking at a lot of rare bottles that would be nice to taste but we are not willing to pay the hefty asking price for. Back out on the street we continue on our way until we come to Fitzsimons. The banner outside says live music starts at noon and we hear things have begun. We step in and locate a table towards the front door and little away from the stage where the two musicians are performing. The bar is not very full and the music is somewhat loud. I imagine that is so it carries outside the windows to the street in order to attract more people. Inspired by our browse through the whisky shop I order a Yellow Spot neat, and Rhonda has a hot whisky. Yellow Spot is an Irish whisky we had when touring the Wild Atlantic Way here in Ireland eight years ago. It is as good as I remember. The music is traditional Celtic and the ensemble consists of two musicians, a guitarist/vocalist and another fellow playing various pipes and whistles. More and more people begin to show up, drawn by the music. Minors are welcomed in pubs in Europe as it is really the social center of town. You only really see them in here during the day. A couple of families come in and the adults have alcoholic beverages while the kids listen to the music and sip something much lighter. When we have finished and paid, we return to our stroll outside.
We wander down the lane through the heart of the Temple Bar district. We find ourselves in a small square where the titular Temple Bar is located. It is a distinctive and photogenic place. The first floor is lined with large picture windows and the woodwork is painted bright red. The upper two floors are brick. There are many large hanging planters, each spilling over with flowers of all colors. They line the first floor, decorate each upper window and line the edge of the roof, hanging over the side of the building. It is quite a spectacle. We’ve walked by here before but have never been in for a drink. We decide to rectify that this time. There is live music happening and the bar is quite crowded, being a famous place everyone wants to visit. There is a small front bar in a small space just inside the corner door and archways leading back into a larger room with a bigger bar and the stage where the music as. I order a pint of Guinness for myself and a cider for Rhonda at the front bar. We find a place where we can stand and see both into the back room where the band is playing and out the window we are standing close to. After little while a couple abandons a pair of seats close to us and we grab those. While we no longer have a direct view of the musicians, we can hear them just fine. We notice a mosaic on the floor of this small front room which is really just an overgrown entryway. The mosaic is the coat of arms for the Temple Bar and goes unnoticed by most everybody that comes and goes. Some people come and just get drinks at this small bar which they take just outside to the few tables and chairs that line one side of the building. We stay through the end of the set enjoying the music and energetic atmosphere.
By now, it is early afternoon and we decided to seek out the fish and chips shop. We had seen Leo Burdock’s on our walk earlier and know where to find it. Where we are going is not the main location, which is by Christ Church, but the second one opened and located here in Temple Bar. It is a small storefront with a counter just inside the door. The food prep area is behind the counter and in view of the front window. The back of the shop contains a dining area with a dozen or so small tables scattered about. We get a couple of soft drinks and an order of fish and chips. The person behind the counter says they will bring the food out to us. We are given no number and asked for no name, so they must keep track somehow. The joint is pretty busy, but we luck out and find a table for two that is free. The food is all cooked to order and after five to ten minutes our meal arrives. A large piece of battered and fried cod rests on a big pile of chips. It is definitely enough to feed both of us. The fish is very creamy on the inside and crispy on the outside. It is probably one of the better versions of the dish we’ve had. The chips are crisp outside and fluffy inside, just as we have come to expect in Ireland. They do know how to properly cook their potatoes. We finish the whole works between us and feel much better after a good lunch. With our appetites satisfied we step out into the Temple Bar Square which is just across the street from Leo Burdock’s. The Quays is on the far side the square and we hear music coming from that direction. We decide to go in and have a listen to the band. We find a table toward the back with a clear view to the musicians playing in the front window. I get a couple of pints of Guinness for us to enjoy. It is so fresh and, dare I say, light in Dublin. It is very easy to drink and so much better than what we get in the States. We enjoy the music and the people watching at The Quays. After a while we notice the time and see it is a little past 3:30. Our taxi driver from the morning said we should probably catch the cab back to the airport around 4:00. We make use of the facilities and depart Temple Bar. We have greatly enjoyed our short visit. We are sorry to go with so much music in the air, but we are eager to see what is yet to come.
We make our way back across the Liffey towards O’Connell Street Upper. We find a taxi pretty easily and are soon on the twenty-five minute journey back to the airport. We get to the airport two hours ahead of our flight, which is more than enough time since our bags are already checked. We get through security quickly as there doesn’t seem to be a lot of people on their way out this Friday afternoon. We double check the display to make sure we get the correct gate, which is actually the same gate from earlier today. That must be where all the Aer Lingus flights to Edinburgh leave from out of this airport. While checking for the gate we see the flight has been delayed to 7:30. Rather than take chances, we make our way to the gate to find a place to sit to wait out the delay. Eventually the time comes to start boarding and they call the front rows first. This is because they’re loading buses to take a drive to the plane. We will be flying a big twin-prop affair that does not pull up to a jet way. After a long drive which seems to cross the length of the airport, the bus stops a short distance from the plane. We ascend the back steps and find our way to our seats. The propellers are somewhat noisy while the plane is taxiing. When the pilot guns it and gets them up to speed for takeoff they become more of a background hum. We gaze out over the emerald green isle and appreciate the scenery. We don’t see much as we both quickly nod off for a short nap. The flight to Edinburgh only takes about an hour and we are soon awake again as we begin our descent. We see things are overcast and drizzly as we land and taxi to the parking area for this plane. Everyone exits the airplane by the same back stairway and crosses a short way through the drizzle to the terminal. We are guided along hallways to customs, which is pretty much empty. We breeze through and head to the baggage carousel where our bags should arrive. We are little worried our bags didn’t make it on because they sat around Dublin airport so long. Our worries are soon abated as our two bags are amongst the first few to come into view.
We know it is a long walk to the car rental and taking up our bags we begin the trek. We pass through the terminal, along the sidewalk by the taxis and buses, and then underneath covered walkways through the rental lots. We are renting from Enterprise this time. We find their building and are at the counter talking to an agent pretty quickly. They have the car, but we didn’t specify our option for insurance when booking. Our auto insurance is different from the last time we drove in Europe and I suspect our current insurance carrier won’t cover us here. Therefore, we need to take the insurance they provide if we want protection. The agent says if we find our carrier does cover us, we can contact the Enterprise office in another town and get the remaining days of their coverage removed from the bill. I will look it up later and find that Progressive doesn’t cover this situation and so the extra two hundred pound charges will stay on the account. The car we have is a new model Mercedes of one of the entry level classes. Happily, the hatchback provides plenty of space for our two large bags to stay out of sight. Adjusting to driving on the left side of the road again makes me a little cautious on this short drive, especially after a long day and a lot of broken sleep. We arrive at the Marriott near the airport at about 9:45 PM. We get checked in and quickly drop our bags in the room and go to the bar for bite to eat. The proper restaurant is closed and the kitchen is only open until 10:00 PM. The waiter taking care of us is very helpful and lets us know what food we can still get and makes sure to get our pizza order placed in time. Rhonda has a glass of a full rosé and I have a Mangers cider. We enjoy our late dinner and recount the events of the day and the fortunate detour. At the end of the meal I take a trip over to the front desk and break a twenty pound note. We leave a nice tip for our very helpful waiter. We finally get to bed about eleven and have a good night’s sleep.
Day 2 – August 17th (The Journey Northward)
We wake up at about 7:00 AM. There is a Nespresso machine in the room and we both make a cup. We sit and sip while I catch up on the journal notes and Rhonda reads a little bit. Breakfast is provided in the hotel. It is served in the large hotel restaurant and laid out as a buffet. It has a good selection of decent food covering all the elements you would find in a full Irish breakfast plus more. The whole affair is much better than the complimentary breakfasts you get in the typical US hotel. The restaurant is pretty busy and it seems some patrons are coming in from the outside to join the hotel guests as paid diners. Maybe that helps explain the better fare as paid customers for breakfast and other meals will help support the restaurant. We have a leisurely meal as we are in no particular rush today. We just have to make it to Inverness and be at The River House for our 6:30 dinner reservation. Once we wrap things up and sip the last of our coffee, we return to the room to get packed and ready for the day. When we walk out to the car park we find a large seagull perched on the roof of a car near ours. As we approach, he seems annoyed or even offended by our presence. He hops from one car roof to the next, but never fully retreats. I guess this is his parking lot and he will not be run off by the likes of us. We leave the lot to him and begin our journey with reminders to ourselves to stay on the left side of the road.
The trip to Inverness would take about three hours if driven straight through. However, we are not taking the direct path today. I want to take a detour by the Tomnadashan Mine. It is located midway along the south bank of Loch Tay and not too far off of the direct path to Inverness. We head off northwest along the M9 which is a divided motorway much like a US interstate. As we approached Stirling we pull into a service area to use the restroom and get some water and crisps. The water bottles have the interesting feature which is that the caps do not come completely off. Once you untwist them they kind of fold down and out of the way, but stay attached so they are discarded with the bottle and not left rolling around somewhere. Strolling through the little grocery in the service area provides some entertainment. Simple things like the differences in what is offered here can be amusing. Items like small containers of bite-sized sausages, or prawn cocktail, or Indian cuisine flavored snacks seem unusual and charming to us. Back on the road we diverge to a smaller, simple two-lane highway numbered A84, and we will end up on A827. The road numbers here get longer as the roads get smaller. As we continue west from Doune and towards Kilmahog we start to enter the Highlands. Turning north the road runs along the banks of Loch Lubnaig. Inspired by the change in scenery, we make a stop in a small parking by the water just to get out and appreciate the views. The sky is overcast and the clouds are tickling the tops of the mountains on the far side of the loch. Misty tendrils reach down from the clouds into the clefts and woods on the mountainside. Some ducks paddle along the shore as a handful of kayakers cross the loch. We see by a warning sign posted at the water’s edge that the loch deepens quickly. The water is clear and you can see the pebbly shore slope into the water for ten to fifteen yards and then sink swiftly into darkness. A dog bounds down to the shore and dives in after the ducks. They are a bit flustered, but head for deeper water to avoid the playful pooch.
Returning to the road we continue our way north up to the River Dochart where our road turns and heads northeast along the river towards Loch Tay. Traffic slows and then comes to a stop as we come to the small town of Killin. It seems a lot of Scottish town names start with the letters “Kil”. Being on the left side of the road we are next to a low stone wall separating the road from the river and the Falls of Dochart. It is a picturesque place to be halted. We can see the road divides up ahead with the left fork crossing the falls over an old stone bridge to follow the north shore of Loch Tay while our road will turn right to run along the south shore. Over the roar of the falls we can hear a pipe band. We discover we are stopped for a parade. We can see a pipe and drum band making their way slowly across the bridge to the far side of the river and into town. They are followed by different community groups, each toting their own banners. A few tractors join the procession, which is not especially long. It is a convenient coincidence we happen to be stopped at a perfect place in the road from which to view the falls with the bridge and parade in the background. Another happy accident.
The parade passes in its entirety before too long and when moving again we make a sharp right turn onto a smaller road with a longer number. The two-lane highway becomes a single-track road. This is essentially a two-way, one lane road that winds along the rugged landscape next to the loch. This is the first of many of this type of road we will encounter on this trip. Frequent passing places are available and marked as you make your way. You have to keep your eyes ahead to see if there is any approaching traffic and quickly judge who needs to pull over into a nearby passing place in order to let the other person proceed by. It is an easy etiquette to follow as long as you are paying attention. Polite waves are exchanged as cars pass the other. The road is windy and going in and out of the woods and passing along pasture walls. It would be fun to drive if you didn't have to worry about the oncoming traffic and the occasional sheep in the road. There been several bikers along the road which I imagine would be quite challenging to ride with all of the ups and downs and having to watch for the occasional auto. The traffic is not heavy, but it is something you have to pay attention to with so many blind corners and hills. After about nine miles, which is nearly halfway along the length of this very long loch, we come to the gate we’ve been looking for. There is a small pullout that is not a formal passing place, but rather a space where the farmer can pause and open the gate to enter the steep pasture. I take a chance the farmer will not be stopping by while we are here and nestling the car into the space and as far off the road as I can get. There are two French bicyclers here taking a break and we exchange pleasantries. The mountainside is quite steep here next to the loch. It falls away sharply to the water and rises swiftly to an unseen peak. The landscape is mostly open here above the water’s edge and the view up and down the loch is quite lovely.
The reason we made this stop is the Monty Python and the Holy Grail. The Tomnadashan Mine played the role of the Cave of Caerbannog, the home of the Killer Rabbit, in the movie. It is an old iron mine which looks more like a cave which is appropriate for the movie. How the film scouts found this place is unknown to me. It is not visible from the road and is effectively hidden until you get right up on it. If you don’t know where you are going, you won’t find it. There are no signs or markings of any kind to lead you there. We ask the bikers if they are aware of where they happened to stop. They say they are not. We ask if they are familiar with the movie and they say they are. We explain that up the hill is the location where the Killer Rabbit lives. They are surprised and interested in the place they have happened to stop. This is a potential happy accident for them. We pass through both gates, making sure to secure them behind us. The first gate gets us into the left field. A long fence runs straight up the slope and the second gate takes us into the right-hand field. We cross a little stream and begin the journey up. It is very steep and a little treacherous in a few places and I can’t help but think about the poor grips that had to get movie cameras and equipment up this mountain to the filming location. As we ascend, at one point I turnaround and look out over the loch to the very impressive views. The sky is still cloudy which lends a bit of drama to the scene. Turning back uphill, I see a copse of trees I have read is the marker for the mine entrance. Coming over the rise we see our destination.
The location is immediately familiar to anybody who has seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I rewatched the scenes filmed here the day before we left home just so I’d be familiar with the various camera angles and have them fresh in my mind. I quickly spot the outcrop where the knights sheltered and discussed the rabbit as they viewed the cave entrance. It is across a small clearing in front of the entrance to the cave. There is a second cave opening which doesn’t show up in the movie to the left of the larger, main entrance. A short way down in the left-hand cave is a pile of stuffed rabbits, most showing teeth and a few with blood on them. Also nestled in the mound of bunnies is a holy hand grenade. These are all tokens brought here and left behind by fans. I make my way across the clearing to the outcrop and see things are much more overgrown than they were decades ago when the movie was filmed. The outcrop is unmistakable. I take a position where the knights cowered and discussed the merits of the frontal assault. I see someone has left another holy hand grenade tucked behind the rocks here. I brought my own killer rabbit plushy which a place appropriately in the clearing, at the mouth of the cave. We take a few silly photos of me preparing the hand grenade and be attacked by the rabbit. As we are walking back out to the clearing to take the journey back down the hill Rhonda notices some droppings by the trail. She remarks the knights obviously missed the warning signs as they approach the cave. As we make our way down the hill, which is a little bit trickier than climbing up, we see the French bikers making their way up. We meet at about the halfway point and I give them clear directions on where to go. Serendipity can be a fun aspect of life, and I am happy we added a story to the tale these bicyclists can tell of their ride around Loch Tay.
Once back at the car we plot our next destination into our navigational aide. Rhonda had brought a copy of Victoria magazine with her for reading on the plane. This morning, she pointed out a couple of articles I read while drinking my coffee. One was about Iain Burnett, the Highland Chocolatier, which will be our next stop. His chocolates are world renowned have won numerous awards, including truffle of the year. That is truffle of the year for the whole world, not just Scotland. Happily, his shop is about 35 minutes to the east of us on our way back to the A8, which we will take north to Inverness. We continue along our single-track road to Kenmore on the east end of Loch Tay. There we pick up a regular two-lane road again as we drive along the southern bank of the River Tay. The river is wide and swift as it runs out of the large loch now behind us. On the banks of the river we find Pitlochry, a very small settlement where our destination is located. The town is nothing more than an inn between the road and river, another inn across the road from the first, a rafting company, a primary school, a few homes set back from the highway, and the chocolate shop. We find a parking space in the lot located behind the chocolatier. It is pretty full as this seems a popular place. The building is fairly large with the shop facing the road, the workshops behind that, and a small café behind that.
We stroll into the shop through the back garden. We hope the small café attached to the back will have something appropriate for lunch. After glancing at the menu, we realize this is not the case as it is mostly chocolate tastings and other desert-oriented items. We proceed to the front of the building where the shop is located. We pass through a hall with displays showing the history of the business, chocolate in general, and other artifacts and documents of note. There are also several works of art wrought in chocolate. The Mona Lisa and Stary Night, plus some sculptures. The shop is moderate in size and dominated by a long display case full of truffles, dipped chocolates and other dainties. There are other goodies like chocolate bars of various types and bags of nuts and other chocolate covered treats. We work with a friendly counter attendant to select an assortment of twenty truffles. We wind up with ten pairs of some gorgeous looking chocolates. To that we add a bar of pure single source chocolate and some chocolate covered espresso beans. We ask about a place for lunch. The employee lets us know both the place across the highway on the river and the one just next door are both good options. We thank her for the help and take our leave. We drop the chocolates off in the car and walk across the small lane that separates Iain Burnett’s shop from the Grandtully Hotel.
The hotel is smaller than its name and strikes me as very quaint inn. It is a two-story stone building that looks like three small cottages joined together. Walking in the front door we find a small restaurant to one side and a pub to the other. The restaurant is closed, but the pub is open and serving lunch. We make our way through a door and into the pub. We are welcomed and told to sit where we like. The pub is actually a small café that just happens to have a tiny bar in it. We take a seat at the front by the window. The menu is very appealing and we order three small plates. The food is delicious. This is a very high-class joint in a very small town. The scallops I have come from the Orkney islands and are exquisite. They are possibly two of the best scallops I think I’ve ever had. My second dish are some chanterelle mushrooms foraged from the Scottish woods and served with a crispy egg on a thick slice of sourdough. Rhonda has a fishcake made from smoked Scottish sea trout. It is nice seeing a place take advantage of the local resources. You find that quite a bit in European cooking. They cook with what is in season and fresh which provides a great starting point for cooking something extra tasty.
After lunch we walk across the highway to the River Tay. We want to take some time to soak in the landscape while we digest our lunch. There is a small path leading through the flowers and bushes growing along the banks. Following this down we find ourselves on the path which winds along the river’s bank. This is the height of summer in Scotland and the wildflowers are blooming all along the river. There is a small variety of thornless thistle spread all along the way. The small purple blossoms join the other rose and yellow-colored flowers in a nice display. The rushing of the water over the stony riverbed adds a pleasant soundtrack to the scene. At about 3:30 we determine it is time to get on the road to make sure we get to Inverness on time. The highway we are driving passes through the western side of the Cairngorms National Park, which is a very large reserve here in the Highlands. The heather is in full bloom and creates a purple blanket for the mountains. As the slopes descend into the glens the heather gives way to rosebay willowherb, which is also in full bloom. Large stands of these rosy blooms line the road and fill the glens. The occasional patch of yellow flowers also pop out against the green backdrop. It is a spectacular show of color that just adds to the beauty of the mountainous landscape as we drive northward. A little rain falls on us from time to time as we drive along and then patches of sun come out to light up the vegetation. As we get closer to Inverness we see some big storms developing a little to the northeast. They keep their distance and don’t bother us. We arrive at the bed and breakfast in Inverness after a couple of easy hours on the road.
We are staying at the Rossmount Guest House. We stayed here six years ago when in Inverness and really enjoyed the innkeepers and their dog Milo. When booking this trip, I was happy to learn they were still open after the pandemic and knew we had to stay again. Ruth greets us and checks us in. We have a lively conversation in the entryway and learn they’ve scaled back and only have half the rooms open. They have moved their quarters down from the third floor to make things easier on themselves too. Rhonda tentatively asks about Milo knowing by this time he would be quite old. Ruth is happy to report he is still with them at 14 years old and calls him out of the backroom. He is lively for his age and she lets us know he has arthritis pretty bad. He gets a monthly shot to help him cope with that which allows him to stay spry. Ruth sees us to our room, which is on the second floor and facing the street. It is very lovely with a fireplace and large bed. The fireplace seems more decorative than functional these days. Windows provide a lot of natural light and we work on getting settled in. Rhonda makes some tea and we sit in the windows and sip after the job of unpacking and hanging up the next couple of day’s clothes. We have a 6:30 reservation for dinner tonight and we shouldn’t have any problem getting there ahead of our reservation. The Rossmount is conveniently located on top of the hill above the river, close to downtown.
The evening is cool so we don our jackets for the trip. We walk straight towards the river and down the steep road near the castle, which sits on a rise along the river. Inverness Castle is undergoing some refurbishment and is partially covered in scaffolding. We turn north and follow Bank Street along the river to the Grieg Street footbridge. The breeze is a little brisk along the river and we cross over the bridge that feeds directly to the restaurant on the far side. We are dining at The River House. It is a cute little restaurant which seems very popular as every table is occupied or held for a reservation. We were wise to book ahead. We peruse the menu which is slanted towards seafood. That is appropriate given the proximity of Inverness to Moray Firth and the North Sea. We’ve settled on a bottle of Spanish Albariño to drink and ordered a couple of appetizers and plates for dinner. The appetizers are small, which is just fine as we don’t eat as much as we used to. Rhonda has an oyster trio consisting of a natural raw one, one beer battered and fried, and one grilled. I have a small cup of Cullen skink, which is a creamy Scottish fish soup. For our mains Rhonda has mussels Mariniere which are cooked with white wine, garlic, shallots and cream. I have Loch Melfort sea trout with pancetta risotto. The mussels are flavorful and tender and the sea trout possibly one of the best pieces of fish I have ever had. It is a new experience and I find it a sort of cross between a normal trout and salmon. It helps it has been cooked perfection. The wait staff, of which there are only two, have been fun and engaging. We decide dessert will be a couple of drams. We get a GlenAllachie 15 and a Tomatin 18. Both are delicious, though Rhonda favors the GlenAllachie and I the Tomatin. One of the waiters stops back to check on us and we discuss the Scotch for a bit. He then tells us the place we need to go is The Malt Room. We inform him we visited there during our last trip to Inverness and it is where we were planning to go after dinner. He lets us know the shortest walking route to get there and we conclude a lovely meal, which is our first proper dinner on the journey.
The sun is getting low but there is still a lot of light. Being so far north during the summer the days are quite long. We cross over the footbridge which sways a little as people walk on it. Directly across the way is an old church with a kirkyard. It is the Old High Church. We pass through the gates and into the kirkyard to visit the gravestones. The church itself is not open and does not even have a congregation anymore. There is a history of the site written upon a plaque near the gates. As it turns out, this is the location of the oldest site of worship in the Highlands, dating back to the 6th century. The tower base dates from the 1300s. The remainder of the present church was built in the 1770s, replacing the previous structure. It is well situated on this knoll overlooking the River Ness. The church also played a role during the Jacobite rebellion. Scottish prisoners were held here by the British after the battle of Culloden. Hasty military trials were had and many of the prisoners were executed in this church yard. Either standing against the outer wall of the tower, or leaning against a gravestone if too wounded or ill to stand. There seems to be a lot of history here, but the light is fading and we move along.
We take the short walk to The Malt Room which is in a little alleyway off Church Street, which is one block up from the river. It is a tiny place with a lot of Scotch. They have several preselected tasting flights and scores of other scotches available. We find a spot open at the bar which will only handle about six to seven people in total. There are a couple of employees busily working behind the bar and it is Finlay who takes care of us. We each select a flight which consists of three different drams. He talks us through each as he pours them out, leaving the bottles on the bar so we can inspect them and associate the label with the flavor. We each select a tasting that includes one of our favorites from dinner. Coming of Age is the first which has three different 18 year old Scotches including the Tomatin. The other flight is the Tour of Scotland which includes the GlenAllachie. We share both flights with each other so we both get the full experience. When a table by the window becomes available, we move away from the bar and have a seat as we finish our flights. Finlay checks in on us and we discuss what we liked and didn’t like. He then selects a couple of more Scotches for us to try based upon that information. He pours us an Isle of Raasay finished in sherry casks and an Old Pulteney finished in port casks. Both are very tasty. After the single drams are finished it is getting on towards ten and we decide to take a slow stroll back to the B&B. As we walk up the hill from the castle we stop in at the Castle Tavern located partway up the bluff overlooking the river. We had heard of this place from a video we watched before our trip. We order a couple of drams but don’t stay longer than it takes to sip through those. While the tavern has some charm and is mostly occupied by locals, it is a tad noisy with raucous music playing. It is a short walk back to our room and bed for the night. We have tasted a lot of good Scotches this evening which is one of the benefits of being in Scotland.
Day 3 – August 18th (A Day in Inverness)
Breakfast is at 8:30 this morning. There are two other couples in the dining room when we arrive. One is from the northern part of the Netherlands. The Lady speaks English but the man does not. The other couple is from Ontario, though they’ve been living in Bavaria for the last year. We spend quite a bit of time discussing the northern lights and both couples recommend going to Finland and utilizing a tour or cruise to facilitate seeing the lights. Norway is said to be too expensive by everyone including Robert, our host. Rhonda enjoys some haggis along with a potato scone and fried egg. I have sausages and a potato scone. There is always toast for breakfast on the English Isles. The whole room is in lively discussion long after breakfast has been eaten and the plates have been cleared. Talk ranges from the winters in Inverness to all of the caravans on the roads in Scotland which are getting into accidents in snarling traffic. Eventually everyone departs the dining room so Robert can finish cleaning things up. We stop back in the room and capture a few notes before heading out for a walk at about 10:30. The day is partly cloudy and a tad cool. Fine walking weather.
The same video that tipped us off about the Castle Tavern also mentioned walking the Ness Isles, which are a group of islands in the middle of the Ness River about a mile upriver from the castle. We make our way down the hill which lands us on the East Bank. It is Sunday morning and the large church across the river is sounding its bells. We stand and listen for a bit and think about my Mom, who loved the sound of the church bells when we were in Austria together. I capture a short video and send it to my immediate family and let her know we’re thinking of her. We turn south and head upstream. The morning is pleasant and we stroll the path along the river which is wide, swift and clear. There are some very nice houses running along the bank as one might expect along this picturesque stretch. Some way along the path crosses a bridge over to the chain of small islands sitting in the river. The path meanders through the woods and over bridges connecting the various islands. The woods are quiet and muffle the noises of the world outside our immediate vicinity. Our pace is easy and we enjoy the sound of the river rushing by, which is relaxing. There are a lot of dogs being walked this morning. Joggers and bikers are common as the river walk is quite lovely and is a nice place to exercise. There are interesting benches scattered along the walk which have been carved out of fallen logs. No two are alike and each is a playful sculpture which remains functional seating area. We stop at a couple of points to sit and enjoy the view and the sounds of the river rushing by. We notice a couple of signs about fishing and contemplate what it would be like to fish here while the salmon are running. It seems fly fishing is all that is allowed here, which is a skill neither of us have. We agree this would be a great place to learn. Eventually we come to the end of the islands and use a large bridge to crossover to the western bank. We then turn northward and head back towards the center of town. The west bank, while still mostly residential, is dominated by a large public park, a few churches and a medical complex that looks to be from the early 20th century.
It is approaching 12:30 when we get back to the main bridge over the river, near the castle. After crossing back over to the East Bank we duck into a small diner on the corner to get a light bite. Rhonda has a tuna salad sandwich, and I have bowl of a very rich tomato soup. We sit in the window which provides a good view of the river and all of the pedestrians passing to and fro on the main thoroughfare. After lunch we stroll the downtown area and do a little shopping. We are trying to find a particular Scotch for Dr. Rathi, who Rhonda works with. He enjoyed it when he was in Scotland about a month earlier, but didn’t have the opportunity to purchase any to take home with him. We do find some of the Auchentoshan after a couple of stops and get him the bottle he requested. We find they also sell a mini of the bottle and get one of those so we can try it for ourselves. While in the shop we have a nice chat with the attendant and grab another mini of something to try later, a Ledaig 10. We also stop in the small whisky shop directly across the alley from The Malt Room, which was closed the previous evening. The shop is empty, save the lone employee. He is very helpful it provides a couple of Scotches for us to taste after we describe what we like. We wind up buying a full bottle of Glasgow 1770 which is lightly peated. There was another we tasted that we quite like, but being twice the price we stayed with the less expensive option. We stroll over to the Victorian Marketplace. It is a covered market which was built in the late 1800s. It houses a few dozen small, independent retailers in a couple of arcades. It is a charming space to stroll through with the high, girdered ceilings and repeating archways. Nothing much captures our interest and we find ourselves turning our feet back toward the Rossmount so we can drop off our purchases before the evening. When back at the B & B we decide to rest our feet in the sitting room and sample the two minis we acquired. We asked Robert about glasses we can use and he pulls a couple out of the cabinet next to the fireplace. He gives us a tongue in cheek warning that we shall experience the pain of death if these are broken. His sense of humor is very dry and we enjoy it immensely. The Scotches are pleasant but neither are compelling enough to revisit at a future date.
Dinner tonight is at the Hootenanny. It is a pub which has live music every day of the week. We have a 6:30 reservation, which is shortly after the traditional session is to begin today. When we arrive, there is a fiddle player and a man playing the uilleann pipes. The Irish pipes gained wider notoriety outside of Celtic culture when they were heard on the Titanic movie soundtrack. I haven’t seen the pipes played live before, so that is a promising start. During the course of our meal the band will grow considerably, adding a singer, an accordion player, another accordion player who also has a guitar, another uilleann piper, a flute, three fiddles and another guitar. The singer also has a squeeze box she plays from time to time. A mild-mannered dog will join the group on stage. The Hootenanny, or Hoot as Ruth called it, seems to cater more to the tourist crowd. We find the tables have a 90 minute time limit on them. I suppose without the limit people would sit and listen to the music all night and they would never turn the tables over, which is very un-European of them. For dinner I’m having traditional haggis with neeps and tatties covered in a whisky sauce. Neeps are mashed turnips and tatties mashed potatoes. Rhonda selects the bangers and mash with an onion gravy. These we accompany with cider. The food is quite delicious, particularly the onion gravy. There is a table next to us that seems to be making a fuss with the waitress about the time limit. It is well posted but they feel entitled and create a little bit of an issue. When the waitress comes by our table to check on us, we sympathize with her and tip her off about some shenanigans we’ve witnessed them pulling in retaliation. We find the second round of ciders are poured very full. When it is time to abandon our table we take our partially finished ciders up to the bar and stand and listen to the music. While mostly filled with tourists, the Hoot has been a good experience with tasty food and good traditional music.
While in the Hootenanny we see signs for Calum MacPhail. He is an accordionist and singer we saw six years ago playing at the Gellions Bar just down the road. We enjoyed his show immensely and had a good time interacting with him. He has apparently become somewhat more famous in the intervening years. We ask at the bar before leaving the Hoot if they know where he might be playing tonight and they say they do not. Fortune smiles on us though, and down the block we find the Highlander and see by a chalkboard on the sidewalk that Calum is slated to be playing here tonight. The place is packed for a Sunday evening and we make our way up to the bar and order a couple of ciders. Calum and Sean Cousins are on break right now, but we see their instruments are set up on stage and notice them sitting nearby. There is a large group of twenty-something Spanish girls standing next to us. I dub them the Spanish Armada. A couple speak English and we converse off and on. Before long Calum and Sean approached the stage and take up their instruments. Calum has his accordion and a guitar. Sean also has a guitar and will frequently play keyboards. Calum's dog lies quietly in a bed on the stage between the performers. The dog seems very accustomed to the environment and isn’t fazed by the crowd or noise, even dozing off at times. Calum has many of his own songs, but tonight he plays and sings some traditional tunes like the Mingulay Boat Song and Fields of Athenry. He performs The Ratlin Bog and gets the whole pub to sing along with him. He moves into a medley we heard him play six years ago which begins and ends with Country Roads and has various other tunes thrown in including American Pie. Apparently, Calum has quite the following as many people sing along and have their own antics to go with his songs. After Calum finishes his set we decide to wrap up the evening back at The Malt Room. We find a spot up at the bar. I have a Meet the Locals flight and Rhonda just a dram of the Isle of Raasay, which she very much enjoyed the previous evening. There is a couple next to us and I notice the male is having the same Meet the Locals flight I am. I strike up a conversation and we find he is a pilot and his wife is a flight attendant and they live in Florida. They are not Scotch drinkers but figured this was the place to try it. We have a little discussion about Scotch and the wide variety of them. She isn’t brave enough to try Scotch and has some chocolate orange cocktail the bar has made up. It is about 11:00 o’clock when we wrap things up and take the stroll back to our room. It has been a wonderful day in Inverness and we are quite taken with the city. We both know there is still a lot of the trip left, but this day will be special in our memory.
Day 4 – August 19th (Journey to Skye)
We are up at 7:30 this morning. We get showered and ready for breakfast which is at 8:30 again. This morning there are two ladies from a town just outside of Glasgow at breakfast. Rhonda has eggs and sausages so she can give one to Milo. Milo only gets leftover sausages. I have beans and haggis. Robert introduces us to the lemon and lime curds Ruth makes and are stashed in the small refrigerator here in the dining room. I try both with toast and find them very nice. After a while Rhonda heads upstairs but I stay in the dining room and continue in conversation with Robert and the ladies. Eventually the couple notices the time and states they have to be on their way. I have a long chat with Robert and Ruth after breakfast in the hallway and they mention they intend to close the B&B at the end of the season. They hope to move to an island in Greece but that will depend upon Milo. They won’t move him at this point in his life and as long as he is around, they may open the B&B from time to time to limited guests. During our conversation I asked about Calum MacPhail and where I might be able to find his CD. Robert says he’ll have a look while we get packed up. When we come back down a little while later Robert says Calum is more famous than he knew and we might be able to find his music at a record store in a mall down the hill. He directs us on where to go here we take the short walk down the long steps and then head a couple of blocks to the east. We find the indoor mall attached to the large Marks and Spencer. Marks and Spencer is a large retail chain in the English Isles that sells soft goods, home goods and groceries. The mall looks like something from the 1980s you would find in any Midwest town. Robert’s directions are true and we easily find the record store. We ask about Calum’s CD at the counter, but they find they have nothing by him. The trip has been fruitless, but at least we have a nice walk before our car ride today. On the way back up the long steps which mount the bluff a little drizzle starts to make its way down from the sky.
It is almost noon before we hit the road. We only have about three hours of wheel time today so we are in no hurry. The drizzle continues off and on as we start north to cross the firth before turning west. Our path will continue west and then southwest as we make out way to the Skye Bridge. We stop a couple of times to take in the scenery along the lochs and glens on our journey through this mountainous land. The wildflowers and heather are blooming everywhere we go and things are still quite lovely despite the overcast conditions. As we wind along a narrow road that follows the shore of the upper arm of Loch Carron, a long line of traffic starts to pile up behind a small gray car. They are obviously not used to driving on the left side of the road and are very tentative. Eventually they find a place to turn out and let a dozen and a half cars behind them make way. We know we are getting close to the Skye Bridge and getting on towards lunch time. Robert had recommended a place in Plockton for lunch which is on the north side of the peninsula we are on. We decide to continue on our way and see if we can find something in the town of Kyle of Lochalsh, which is at the foot of the bridge on the western tip of the peninsula. As we make our way into the small town, we noticed a gas station we will have to visit before crossing over to the isle. A little way further down to road we find the small retail area where Hector’s Bothy is found. Rhonda had identified the restaurant while searching the web for a good lunch spot. I find a place to park in the small lot by the shore and which overlooks the loch with a view to the bridge. The rain is coming down gently as we cross into the café.
We find the cafe is full. There are some people taking to go orders from the counter but we are content to wait for a table to open up. An older couple comes in as we stand nearby the door waiting for someone to leave. A diner is getting ready to go which opens up a pair of seats at a long table. The older French couple take the table which we have no problem with, as it is probably easier for us to stand. Not long after another table becomes available and we make our way over. We order some good hearty fare for a cool wet day. Rhonda has a bowl of sweet potato, leek and chicken soup that comes with some really delicious bread. I order fish and chips with peas. I also get a ginger beer which is what we would call ginger ale in the states. While still non-alcoholic, it has a lot more bite than the ginger ale back home. I find both the fish and the chips are very crispy but the fish is not quite as creamy as it was in Dublin. It is still quite delectable and fills a good spot in my belly for lunch. While enjoying our meal we see another couple waiting for a table. We offer to share ours, as the booth we are in will sit four. They accept and we move to one side while they take the other. After the meal, as we are paying the tab at the counter, we get a couple of sweet treats out of the pastry case for later in the day. With lunch out of the way we backtrack a little bit to the petrol station, which is the first one we’ve seen since we left Inverness. Like everything in Europe, it is small. It is a very tight squeeze between the pumps and the building and I can’t even get out of the car. I have left room on the pump side so Rhonda has to get out and do the pumping. With the car filled up we are ready to crossover to the Isle of Skye and make our way to the northwest corner where we will be staying.
The sky grows increasingly stormy as we cross the bridge and onto the island. We drive along the shore with lovely views to the north over the Inner Sound towards the Isle of Raasay. We pass through the town of Broadford which puts Rhonda in mind of the Jethro Tull song The Broadford Bazaar. The road continues along the water and then dips to the west around Loch Ainort. The views along here are stunning. The rain comes and goes and there are waterfalls every twenty yards or so coming down the mountains. You see silver runnels coming down the mountainside, splashing over the exposed rocks as they drain into the loch and out to the sound. At a couple of places, we pull over just to admire the views. Rounding another point by the ferry to Raasay we head west and come to the crossroads at Sligachan. Looking up the Glen of Sligachan towards the peaks to the south, we see a large river splashing its way down over the rocks, passing under the road and out to the loch. We turn off the road and pull into the lot by the Sliganchan Hotel. The hotel is a solitary building standing here at the junction in the open glen. It is a short walk back over to the foot bridge where we take our time appreciating the beauty around us. You can trace the line of the river which is twenty yards or more across here all the way back to and up the side of the distant mountain. The rain has swollen the river and it is swift and noisy as it comes coursing down its rocky path. We eventually pull ourselves away and walk back towards the car. Most of the traffic at the junction is headed north along the A87 towards Portree, which is the largest town on the isle. We are headed west along the A863 that will head up the Waternish peninsula. As you may guess, because the number is long, the road is narrow.
The traffic lessens significantly from what we were in as we drive westward from Sliganchan. When we come to the town of Drynoch at the head of Loch Harport we lose a little bit more traffic as many folks head south of the loch towards Carbost and Talisker. We continue northwest up toward Dunvegan, near where our B&B for the next two nights is located. The landscape has changed a little in character, but is still lovely. The peaks are generally lower here on the western shores. The shoreline is rugged and winding with the carpet of green running almost to the water’s edge. Blooming heather and other flowers pop up here and there to add splashes of color. We again pull over a couple of time to admire the views. The sheep pay us little mind and just continue with their grazing. There are some horses as well that are white in color and scattered over the terrain like the sheep are. With the help of the car navigation we know where to pull off of the road as we arrive at Kilmuir Park at about quarter to five. The B&B is located right along this road but there is not much traffic. We are a mile south of the tiny village of Dunvegan and north of the turn toward the Neist Point Lighthouse. Thus, the only people coming along here are headed toward Dunvegan. There are a couple other cars parked here and I work myself into a spot along the drive. The house is wide and low, only being a single story. It sits on a small rise on the east side of the road and looks to the west, over the rolling pastures to the further mountains.
Gathering our bags we approached the front door and find it is unlocked. Entering the outer door we see the inner door is standing open and pass into the house. There is a counter in the entryway, but no one is about. I pull out my cell phone and call the bed and breakfast. Ian answers the phone. He is surprised by my claim that I am standing at the front counter and soon comes in from the kitchen. We have a chuckle because with the inner door already open, no bell went off which would have alerted him to someone coming inside. He is a congenial fellow who offers us a “fizzy” as a welcome drink for our sitting room. The old house has been remodeled and is somewhat modern while remaining comfortable. Not all the rooms are occupied as half were turned into sitting rooms during COVID. Because they had to separate people and serve breakfasts individually, the configuration was changed so there is a bedroom on one side of the hall with a sitting room across the hall that has been converted from a former bedroom. After COVID they left the sitting rooms where each couple is served their breakfast and they can lounge. Having our own sitting room with a picture window out towards the west and the mountains beyond is quite nice. We unpack for the next couple of days and then have a sit in our front room and enjoy the Prosecco Ian has poured for us. Ian told us the restaurant we are dining at tonight, The Old School, is about a mile up the road. There are sparse and widely spaced residences along this road, which definitely feels like being out in the country. I am surprised to learn there is a sidewalk that follows the road all the way into town.
Our reservations are for 6:30 this evening. At about 6:00 o’clock we decide to don our raincoats and head out. We walk a little way along the road and then reconsider. While there are streetlights along here, coming back in the dark when the rain may have restarted again could be dicey. We turned back towards the B&B and take the car the short distance up the road to the restaurant. The Old School is called that because it is located in the old school building for the town. They are ready for us when we arrive and we are shown to our table promptly. The young fellow taking care of us this evening is named Dylan. As we will find out later when talking with him, he received a little bit of a promotion a while ago and started dressing up in a flat cap, vest and tie. Some of the others in the restaurant took up the same manner of dress. He strikes quite the figure as he strides around taking care of his guests. Being close to the sea we order a seafood themed meal off of the specials board and select a bottle of Spanish white to accompany our dishes. We start with a shared appetizer which is a trio of fish. There is smoked salmon, a mackerel pâté, and crab claw meat all served with crostini. For her main Rhonda has chosen the pan-fried sea bass with grains and baby potatoes. I opt for the seared scallops with black pudding and a sherry sauce, remembering how good the last local scallops I had were. The dishes do not disappoint and the black pudding is remarkable. We have tried it in several locations around the English Isles and found it merely OK. This one has no mineral bite, is mellow and almost taste sweet like a brownie. We rarely order desert, but want to try sticky toffee pudding for the first time. Charlotte comes by to help us as Dylan is otherwise engaged. She recommends a couple of whiskies to accompany the sticky toffee pudding. The idea of pairing whisky with a sweet dessert is novel to us and we accept her suggestions. We have a Jura 10 and Macallan 12. The combination of the pudding, which is like a moist cake with the dark caramel over it, along with whisky is a revelation. The toffee sauce is sweet, but not overly so. There is a depth of flavor in the pudding which is barely sweet at all. The whisky cleans the pallet and makes it ready for the next bite of the dark and flavorful dessert. Dinner here in this remote corner of the Isle of Skye has been a fantastic experience. We take the short drive back to Kilmuir Park and settle in to our sitting room. We sip a little more whisky and amuse ourselves with some British television before eventually turning in at about 10:00 o’clock. It has been a wonderful day of beautiful sights, friendly people, and delectable meals.
Day 5 – August 20th (A Day on the Isle of Skye)
Breakfast is served in our sitting room at 8:15. A small table for two sits by the large picture window. Outside we can see the sun shining on the mountains across the plain, with the green lawn in the foreground. While the view from the room is nice, we miss the company of other guests. Rhonda is enjoying a plate of salmon and eggs while I have a small cranachan to start and then some modest pancakes with honey and compote. There is the requisite toast present to fill in the corners. Ian comes back in after a little while and we have a discussion about the day to come. He recommends driving the loop around the Trotternish Peninsula counterclockwise. That way we will approach all of the famous landmarks with them in front of us instead of having to look back over our shoulders. He also says the road to the Fairy Glen is not marked but we should look for the road to the cemetery in Uig. He recommends skipping the Neist Point Lighthouse as the road there is in horrible shape due to numerous caravans driving over it and chewing it up. We thank him for his recommendations and decide to get on our way. There will be rain again today, but there are large patches of sun this morning we hope will follow us around. Being in Scotland, where the weather can change quickly, we arm ourselves with raincoats and brollies for the day ahead. We had a hostess declare to us once when talking about the populace, “If we didn’t go out in the rain, we wouldn’t go out at all.” Thus, we always prepare ourselves and don’t let the prospect of rain deter us from having fun.
We head south a little way before catching the single-track road, B885, that crosses the Waternish Peninsula over to Portree, where the two large peninsulas join. Once in Portree we head north along the eastern shore of the Trotternish Peninsula towards the Old Man of Storr. The Old Man is a rock formation along a series of cliffs fronting the seashore. It is probably one of the most photographed and recognized natural features on Skye. There is heavy traffic along here as lots of people want to pull into the car park along the water and take the path up to the Old Man. The parking lot is packed and we planned to skip the walk as Ian recommended not bothering unless the weather was good and we had a lot of time. Continuing along we come to Lealt Falls and turn off to have a look. There is a small lower car park and a “cars only” upper lot which we drive up to. The upper lot actually turns out to be closer to the path along the cliff edge anyway. It is windy, but the sun is out and shining on us. The Lealt River runs down from the mountains and falls over a cliff before running out to the sea through a deep and tree lined gorge. The vistas from here are quite lovely and we walk along the path a little way to enjoy different perspective. To the east the sun is glinting off of the waves on the sea. The rugged, cliff lined shore rises gently to the tall mountains to the west. The sun is overhead and the landscape is varied shades of green.
We decide to move along as a bus load of tourists starts to make its way up the hill to the overlook, promising to make the scene crowded and noisy. When we continue our journey north it is not long before we come to Kilt Rock. As we turn off the road we see a large new car park. Not many people are here. The sun is still overhead and we stroll over to the cliff’s edge. The basalt columns of rock that make up the cliff face resemble the pleats of a kilt and thus the name. The Mealt River runs to the edge of the cliff and falls 180 feet into the sea. The water is clear and you can see the fallen columns resting under the water’s edge. There are not many folks around, and there seems to be an unspoken command to remain silent. Things are so quiet that the wind can be heard whistling through the railing along the path. Looking back inland we see storm clouds coming over the mountains and this creates quite a dramatic scene. Stormy mountains transitioning to sunny cliff sides and white falls cascading into a blue sea. The Isle of Skye’s reputation for beauty is well deserved. We noticed the car park is filling up a little bit and we make our way back to our vehicle. Just as we arrive the rain breaks and we jump into the car. We have timed things perfectly.
We continue northward and are soon out of the rain. We are searching for the dinosaur footprints. As we approach the northern end of the peninsula the two-lane road splits into two single-track roads. The one to the north heads for Duntulm Castle and the northernmost point of Skye. The other crosses over the peninsula to the town of Uig. There is a third way that turns back east and heads down to a beach, which is where we are headed. It is a single-track road and is very windy. We cautiously make our way down and come to An Corran Beach. There we find a number of cars in a little car park along the road. We have no problem finding a spot and then take a stroll down towards the sand. The sun is full out and the scene before us is lovely. There is a wide beach of dark sand which wraps around the point of land we are on. Westward you can see the mountains that make up the peninsula. Islands dot the sea when looking north. To the east you can see the mainland of Scotland across the water. The dinosaur tracks themselves are impressions in the rock bed that slopes down into the sandy beach from the nearby cliffs. We spot a couple as we clamber among the stones. After a while of enjoying the beach in the sun, and watching the waves bubbling on the sand, we return to our car and wind our way back up from the shore.
We take the single-track road heading straight west over the peninsula to Uig. It is an adventurous drive. Single-track roads are a challenge because you have to keep your eyes ahead to the oncoming traffic. The drive itself is quite lovely as it makes its way through mountainous terrain which is covered in heather and scattered with sheep. There are some challenging spots in the road due to potholes, but we make our way to the west side of the peninsula and enjoy the vistas as the road descends down to Uig, which is located on the water. We pass through the town and do not notice any signs for the Fairy Glen. We are looking for lunch at the moment, however. There is a small place called The Galley just south of town on the bluff overlooking Loch Snizort. We find a table by the picture window looking out over the loch. Today Rhonda enjoys fish and chips for lunch while I have a venison burger with red current chutney. I have another adventurous soft drink today which is a grapefruit flavored Sanpellegrino. While we are enjoying lunch some rain finally falls on us and the sun gives way to increasing clouds. After the plates are cleared and while sipping our drinks, we take a look at phone navigation to find the way to the Fairy Glen. With our destination plotted in the phone we finally get up from the table and head out to continue our day. We notice, as so often happens, we are leaving as the crowds are arriving. We happily seem to usually have a knack for avoiding the mobs.
We head back north into Uig and the phone navigation helps us find the correct turn off that we missed before. Robert was correct, the road is not marked as the one to the Fairy Glen. This is another single-track road which makes this way through and past farms before giving way to a small car park. We don our raincoats as there is a light drizzle coming down as we pay for parking and start up the trail. There are sheep grazing in the glen as we walk along the beginning of this odd area. The land formations are covered in green. The small peaked mounds of earth seem to become oversaturated and the top layer of soil slips downward a little from time to time. The thick carpet of grass keeps everything together and prevents it from sliding off completely. This action in turn creates folds that look a multitude of tiny terraces that cover every vertical slope. There are small ferns and stunted trees growing in the lower areas by the little ponds. It all seems a bit out of scale from the normal world and the moniker of Fairy Glen makes sense as you walk through it. The rain picks up a little as we approach the steep slope to the most famous part of the Glen. We take shelter under some small trees next to a French family who is also waiting out the rain. Things lighten up a bit and we walk up the rest of the way to the small hollow. The heights surrounding the hollow provide views across the glen and the larger valley beyond. The distant slopes are covered in waterfalls coming down the mountains beyond. It is quite a lovely scene and there are a few enough people so you can get a nice sense of the place without humans in the way. The drizzle is starting to pick up to regular rain again and we take the walk back to our car. The precipitation never gets too heavy and we are not especially wet after the twenty-minute walk back to the car. It would have been a nice place to stay and enjoy the tranquility, but Mother Nature seems to want us to move along.
We have reservations for a 3:30 tour of the Talisker distillery this afternoon. The distillery is about a forty minute drive way back down the Trotternish Peninsula, through Portree, past the Sligachan bridge, and west to Carbost. We plot our course in the car navigation and begin on our way. Rain comes and goes as we drive through quite beautiful scenery. Waterfalls and streams interspersed with heather, rugged landscapes and, of course, sheep. Charming little farms dot the land. Sometimes the low clouds settle into fog and somewhat limit the view. We arrived at the distillery at about 3:25. I drop Rhonda by the main entrance and drive a little way up the slope to find a parking place in the main lot. The rain is lightly coming down as I walk to the main entrance and join Rhonda in the lobby. She has checked us in and gotten our wrist bands for the tour. The guide is friendly and knowledgeable and the tour of the distillery is pleasant. It is not as in depth as the one we took through Balvenie six years ago, but still a nice experience. The tasting at the end is a bit of a disappointment. They offer small bottles which those who are driving can use to take their flight away with them. I decline as I want to sample the whiskies while here, and the pours are very small, as is appropriate to a tasting. The tour guide does a fine job guiding the novices through the tasting process, but the whiskies themselves are nothing special. We’ve had so many delicious Scotches already during this trip that Talisker has a high bar to meet. Unfortunately, they don’t do so. I am glad we have come if for no other reason to give Talisker a taste so we can put it in our long list of what we like and what we don’t. The rain is coming down properly as we make our way back to the car.
We start to make our way towards the Fairy Pools after leaving Talisker. They are little way south from Carbost. As we begin down the single-track lane off the highway which leads to the site, we consider the time and the fact that rain is getting heavier. We find a spot to pull over, turn around and abandon the pursuit. The Fairy Pools will just have to wait for a future visit. We make our way back to the east side of Loch Harport and up the Waternish Peninsula to Kilmuir Park. The sun is shining on us as we arrive back at the B&B. I stroll out to the front yard to snap some pictures of the flowers and scenery. I notice the lawn is half mowed. When we were chatting with Ian about the wet August they are having he mentioned he got caught in a downpour while trying to tidy up the lawn. Dinner tonight is at 6:40 and we take the short drive up to the town of Dunvegan proper. The restaurant is named for the town and is located on the shore of Loch Dunvegan. The parking lot serves the restaurant and several local businesses and has a steep slope as it sits between the road and the shore. We arrive in plenty of time and are seated early.
This restaurant cooks everything on an open hearth. We are having a three-course fire dinner. Since beef is the main course, we order up a bottle of Argentine Malbec. The meal starts with some bread that has been cooked over charcoal. It is served with some a little smoky baba ganoush and olives. The bread is hearty and a good start while the baba ganoush is unremarkable. The next course is rock turbot. A small piece of the fish is served with a lobster bisque which Rhonda asked them to leave off for her. A small plate with some foraged chanterelle mushrooms comes out with the fish. Thankfully, the portions are small so you can try all of the flavors without getting stuffed. The fish without the bisque is somewhat dry and I enjoy the course more than Rhonda. The mushrooms are good, but we don’t eat too many. Next comes some aged Highland rump steak. The beef is very tasty and it goes well with the wine. Served along with the beef are greens and potato dominoes. Dominoes are potatoes which have been cut into rectangles, sliced on a mandolin and then stacked slightly offset. It looks like a deck of cards someone has started to push over. It’s quite an interesting presentation for the potatoes and they are very tasty with the flavor of the fire and rosemary added to them. There is a dessert course that is part of the meal but we are both too full at this point. One of the options that will transport well is a sticky toffee pudding. We asked the waitress to box it up so we can take it back to our B&B and have it later this evening. Overall, the meal has been an interesting culinary experience, but is seems as if they are trying too hard and missing the mark somewhat. We do enjoy the pudding later in the evening as we are lounging in our sitting room, watching the British game show, Beat the Chasers. We have a couple of minis of whisky we purchased in Inverness which we enjoy with the dessert. It is tasty, but not as good as what we had the previous evening at The Old School. Our day on the Isle of Skye has been wonderful, and we feel fortunate the sun followed us around for most of the day.
Day 6 – August 21st (Drive to Fort William)
Breakfast is again at 8:15 this morning. Ian brings our plates into the sitting room as we are enjoying a cup of coffee. We are both trying something different this morning. Rhonda has a meat and cheese board that is all locally sourced. There is some venison, ham and beef. Along with those are some smoked and unsmoked cheeses from local sources and some Orkney chutney. I’m having a bowl of porridge with honey and cream. These selections are very nice and a pleasant departure from what we’ve had to date. Christine, Ian’s wife, comes in and has a chat with us after breakfast. We have a nice conversation with them both and find out they are retired and bought the Kilmuir Park ten years ago. We also learn they listed it for sale two months ago as they are ready to move on from taking care of a bed and breakfast. When the talk turns to whiskies and spirits Christine breaks out her favorite gin, Kirkjuvagr from Orkney. She has us try a sample. It is quite lovely with a distinctive taste. The talk turns to the weather as it looks to be a very rainy day. As it turns out, the remains of Hurricane Ernesto are going to be hitting Scotland today and rain will likely be continual and at times a very heavy for most of the day.
We let Ian know we plan to visit Dunvegan Castle since it is raining and outdoor activities won’t work well. He mentions if we want a view of the castle, we need to drive past it and around the water to a rise in the land along the far shore. Apparently, the castle is hidden from the road by gardens and woods and you have to get out towards the water and look back to see the castle. He also recommends another castle of fame on the other side of the Skye Bridge named Eilean Donan, which we take note of. Christine says it is more of a proper castle, like what most people think of when a castle is brought to mind. Dunvegan is more like an estate. We get things packed up and by that time the rain has begun in earnest. Ian tells me to just back up to the front door so we don't have to take the bags as far in the rain. This I do and we say our farewells to our gracious hosts then load up the car and head north through the town of Dunvegan and towards the castle.
After exiting the town the small road begins to follow the contours of the peninsula and passes between the castle grounds and the car park. We continue on our way as guided by Ian and find ourselves on a single-track road following the shoreline. We get to the spot he mentioned, which is a very sharp u-turn, but I continue on to find a place to turn around to come at the castle head on. We do manage to find a place to pull over and capture the view in the rainy weather. Returning to the car park we find a spot. The lot is pretty full as a lot of people are seeking the refuge of indoor attractions on this very wet day. We already have our raincoats on and break out the umbrellas for the walk to the ticket booth across the road. After securing our entrance to the castle and grounds we make our way through the gates and into the gardens. The path through the gardens is wide and the rain is blowing down on folks. The foliage is full and there are many blooms to be seen. It would probably be very nice in sunny weather. Rounding a bend, we come to the castle which is quite lovely from this perspective with the water and small islands beyond it. Approaching the front doors people are asked to leave their drippy umbrellas in some little cubbies in the entryway. I tuck ours in a spot then we are in the entry hall. As mentioned, there are a lot of people here today. We take our time and meander our way through knowing we do not have many hours we need to spend on the road today and have no scheduled to keep.
The castle is the ancestral seat of the clan MacLeod. It has been occupied for hundreds of years and the legend of the Fairy Flag is associated with this very castle. There are even links with Bonnie Prince Charlie and this place. Flora MacDonald, who is the woman who helped the Bonnie Prince escape mainland Scotland after Culloden, lived the last part of her life here. She married one of the MacLeods and brought with her many mementos of the Bonnie Prince along with those of her own. In one of the rooms of the castle are displayed a number of clan MacLeod and Flora relics. They have the Bonnie Prince’s waist coat and other items of his. There are also many things belonging to Flora. Also featured are numerous interesting artifacts from the history of the clan MacLeod including a legendary drinking horn, swords, arms and documents. There are a myriad of curious items, antiques and portraits well displayed all throughout the castle. The Fairy Flag of legend is framed and hanging in the parlor. It is very weather worn and less than half of it remains. In the same room as the flag is an old gaming table which I find very interesting. Portraits of the different heads of clan MacLeod are hung throughout the castle. As a collection they display a tale of the changes in fashion throughout the centuries. The lower level of the castle, down at ground level, contains the old servant quarters and below that, a small dungeon. There is a Pictish stone in lower level. It has some carvings in it which are very weatherworn, but date the stone to the first century CE. The Picts were the people inhabiting Scotland before the Celts arrived. There is small theater set up in one room with a looping documentary about the castle and clan MacLeod. Next door to that is a small, requisite gift shop. Rhonda finds a nice pair a suede gloves, but has to come hunt me down in the theater as she has no method of payment on her. We spend a pleasant couple of hours strolling the castle and learning of its history. Eventually we make our way back to the front door, retrieve our umbrellas, and make our way back out to the car park.
There is one way off the island, unless you take a ferry, and that is the way we came. We begin our journey back to the mainland of Scotland. The rain is constant and at times very heavy. This has the effect of multiplying the waterfalls coming down the mountains and splashing into the lochs and sounds. The scenery is still very lovely and dramatic. After crossing the Skye Bridge back onto the main of Scotland we stop again at the petrol station in Kyle. We still have a lot of fuel left in the tank, but we don’t know when we will see a petrol station again and so take the opportunity to fill up. We turn east and then after crossing the bridge over Loch Long the road turns southeast and runs along Loch Duich. It is here, after crossing the bridge, we see Eilean Donan Castle. This castle has starred in many movies and sits like a sentinel on a rock out in the loch. We turn off the main road and cross over the causeway to the car park and see it is packed. While Dunvegan Castle was busy, it is remote, which helps keep the crowds from getting out of hand. Eilean Donan Castle is on a much more well-traveled route on the mainland. With the rainy day it looks to be inundated. We can see queues of people lined up at the entrance, and mobs elsewhere. We find a space in the car park by the edge of the water. We have a nice view of the castle as we consult our phones to see where we might have lunch. The original plan was to dine at the café next to the castle, but that will not work as we are not going to stay for a visit. The crowds here will make things less enjoyable and this castle will just have to wait for a future visit. Finding no other alternatives close we determine just to continue to head southeast along our route and see what we come across. The landscape along the loch and the glen beyond is stunning. The imposing, waterfall laden mountains rise steeply from the lochs. The road traces the edge of the water, or runs along the rivers that connect the lochs through the glens.
Near the head of Loch Cluanie by the falls there is a small resort. Across the road from the resort is the Landour Bakehouse. We quickly decide to give the place a try and pull into the car park behind the small stone building. Passing in we see a small counter next to a large display case full of baked goods both savory and sweet. The actual bakery is located in the room behind the counter and the front room has several small tables looking out the large windows that face the loch. The menu includes soups and sandwiches and we place an order at the counter. We both get some tea to warm up with on this cool, rainy day. Rhonda has a tuna melt on a soft roll and I have a chicken tikka sandwich. Both are quite tasty and hit the spot. Before departing we revisit the counter and select a couple of pieces of sweet bread and a pair of pastries for consumption later today or tomorrow. We are about two hours into our three-hour drive to Fort William. The rain has lightened a little bit but is still coming down steadily. Back in the car we continue on our way. The drive along Loch Cluanie is as gorgeous as the rest. Our way passes along Loch Loyne, Loch Garry, and runs into Loch Oich where it turns south. Loch Oich is one of the chain of lochs which occupy and define the Great Glen. This is the cleft in the country running straight from Inverness to Fort William. The landscape is a bit more open here with the mountain slopes shallower and the glens and lochs somewhat wider. We pass along Loch Oich and Loch Lochy and then arrive at the head of Loch Linhe where Fort William is located. Fort William is a popular town for hikers and adventures since it sits near the foot of Ben Nevis, which is the highest peak in the English Isles. Ben Nevis is a little southeast of Fort William. The town sit on the steep slopes running down to the water from the fore peaks of Ben Nevis. Traffic on the road has thickened as we get into the outskirts of town.
We make our way toward the center of the town where we turn eastward and onto a road which heads into the National Park. Our B&B for the night is the last residence on the road before the park entrance. The Brevin’s Guest House sets on the south side of the road and is carved out of the foot of the slope. The Nevis River runs on the north side of the road, but is hidden by trees and vegetation. There is one other car in the gravel lot when we pull in. The B&B is a large, two-story white building with lots of dormers jutting out of the black slate roof. I haul our two bags up the steps to the front entrance. We are greeted almost immediately by our host, Vince. He is a friendly and talkative fellow. He grabs a bag and leads us up some steep stairs to our room. We chat for a bit after he takes us through the amenities and lets us know how to place our breakfast order. He asks if we have plans for dinner and I tell him we have a reservation at Browns just down the road. He exclaims, “Ah! The most expensive place in town.” I reply I didn’t know that at the time, but saw they had a dry aged steak on the menu, so we had put it on the list. I ask about parking for the train tomorrow and he covers a couple of options. He then leaves us to unpack and get ready for dinner. We hang up our clothes for the next couple of days and settle in. We capture a few notes and fill out the breakfast slips which we leave in the basket by the door on our way to dinner.
As mentioned, we have a reservation at Browns Restaurant, which is maybe a quarter mile down the road, towards town. The rain has pretty much dissipated, though this sky is still overcast. We don our trusty raincoats and walk down the road to dinner. There is a nice sidewalk along the road but we have to be careful of traffic coming from behind us that may splash a puddle and drench our pants. There are not many cars and we make it to the restaurant dry and sound. We have arrived early for our 6:30 reservation. We let the maître d’ know we will just sit in the bar area and have a drink to pass the time. We settle into a love seat and select a couple of cocktails to help us unwind from the road. The restaurant has a glass front facing the road and town beyond. The bar is set back from the dining area which is up by the windows. The restaurant itself is attached to a small hotel, the Nevis Bank Inn, nestled off of the road. We discussed the day, watch the people passing to and fro, and observe the activity of the patrons in the restaurant. We move to our table, up by the front windows, as we finish our cocktails and set to the task of selecting our dinner. We know the main course will be their dry age steak which we will share. A nice red wine which will go with the steak is ordered, and we determine to have a couple of small appetizers to share before the steak. The small plates are inventive and tasty. The star of the show is the steak though. It is delectable, full of deep flavor and goes perfectly with the malbec. When we had ordered our meal, the waiter had asked if we wanted any sauces with the steak. Rhonda declared if the steak is good enough it shouldn’t need any sauce. The waiter chuckled and said, “I heartily agree with you, but I have to offer anyway.” The sides that come with the steak, some fries and small salad, remain mostly uneaten as we focus our stomach room on the lovely beef. When we have finished our time at our diner table by the window, we retire to armchairs in the lounge area. Here our dessert is a couple of wonderful Scotches we sip as we continue to take in the scene and relax. The rain has stayed away and we have a pleasant walk back to The Brevins in the twilight of the Scottish evening.
Day 7 – August 22nd (The Jacobite)
Breakfast is served in a large dining room with several small tables scattered about. Unlike the B&B in Inverness, the people here keep to themselves. The place is fairly busy with every table taken. Vince has people select a breakfast time when turning in their breakfast slip the night before so he can space out the hot plate service. There are people of all ages here, and a couple of different languages can be heard. There also looks to be a couple of groups of hikers who are probably getting ready to challenge Ben Nevis. Rhonda is having the full fry up this morning while I am having toasted crumpets with compote and syrup served with bacon rashers, which is a thicker and wider version of conventional bacon in the States. The crumpets are light and tasty and something new for me to try. We chat with Vince and Brenda after breakfast for a short while. When describing the rain from yesterday Brenda states, “It was chucking it down.” I rather like that description and will have to work it in to my speech as appropriate. A little while after nine we head up to our room to get things together for the day. By 9:30 we are in the car headed down to the train station.
Today we are riding the Jacobite. That is the name of the steam train which runs between Fort William and Mallaig. The train gained quite a bit of fame when it took part in a couple of the Harry Potter movies as the Hogwart’s Express. The Glenfinnan Viaduct is a significant architectural feat and one of the key features along the route. Driving down to the center of town we are lucky to find plenty of available spaces in the lot just east of the station. We pay the daily rate and then stroll over to the building. There are only a few platforms here in Fort William. The one with the Jacobite is easy to identify given the attention it is attracting. We need to be checked into our car by ten o’clock and we have some time to walk down toward the engine and have a closer look. It is a relic of a bygone age. The black engine with red accents has a romantic appeal. It sits and emits steam in a quiet rhythm, almost like it is breathing, gathering its energy for the journey ahead. There is a line of people on the platform waiting to step up into the engineer compartment and have their picture taken. There is a car immediately behind the tender in which there is a little Harry Potter shop set up.
We make our way back a few cars to find carriage B. There are only two first class carriages and we are in the second. I wanted first class seats so we could get a table for two to provide space to play cards. After having our tickets checked we board. The carriages themselves are as old as the steam engine. We see there are tables for two down the right side and tables for four down the left. Looking forward into carriage A, I notice it has the opposite arrangement, with the tables for two on the left side. The reason for this will become evident on the return journey. The seats are very comfortable with thick upholstery. All the tables fill up as we approach departure time. Coming on late is an older couple who are not sitting together. Directly across the aisle from us are a mother and two children who appear high school aged. The female of the old couple sits with the family. The gent is in sitting at the next table up the way in a similar arrangement, joining a party of three. Apparently, they booked late and couldn’t find anything together.
The “All aboard!” call goes out and the conductors begin to close all the doors. When 10:15 arrives, the Jacobite begins to chug in earnest and we start on our way. I see a lot of people on the platform but they are just here to observe the train in motion. We pull out of the station in a huge cloud of steam and begin to pass northward through town. As we crossover the Caledonian Canal we see the stair stepped locks going up the slope beyond the loch. There are dozens of people standing about on the different levels watching the train as it moves by. We will notice other gawkers along the roads, standing outside of their car waiting for the train to pass. As we reach the head of Loch Linnhe the train takes a big looping left turn and begins to head west towards Mallaig. There is a complementary tea service on board which comes around not too far into the journey. I have brought the cribbage board along with us today and Rhonda and I begin to play. The day is mostly cloudy, but the sun breaks out from time to time and the rain is staying away this morning. It is nice to be able to view the mountains and the lochs without having to keep my eyes glued on the road. The mother and her two kids across the aisle do not speak English as their first language but try their best to have a conversation with the female half of the couple sitting with them. As we move along when we pass the occasional bend or through a tunnel, a cloud of steam coming from the engine envelopes the car and reminds you of how you’re traveling. The track itself winds along the shore of Loch Eil and through various tunnels as it makes its way westward.
An announcement is made as we approach the Glenfinnan Viaduct. The conductor says the engineer will stop if possible. The train begins slow as we come down a gentle slope, through a long tunnel and onto the viaduct itself. The train is stopped as the last carriage clears the tunnel. The passengers all gaze out the left-hand side of the carriages as that is side facing the picturesque and steep sided glen containing Loch Shiel. The long and graceful arc of the viaduct as it makes an almost complete 180 degree turn around the head of the loch is striking. This is the longest concrete railway bridge in Britain. The twenty-one arches help accentuate the stately architecture of the viaduct. We then notice all of the people, scores of them, waiting on the hillside across the glen, above the viaduct. After a few minutes the engine begins to puff out clouds of steam and cross over the viaduct to the northern side of the glen. As the tracks settle on land again Rhonda and I wave at all the people on the hillside outside our window. We are about halfway through the journey and have another hour yet before we reach Mallaig. We continue to see people pulled over to watch the train go by. However, no other gathering will be as numerous as the hundred or more folks scattered just above the Glenfinnan Viaduct. Rhonda and I continue our game as the land begins to lower somewhat as it draws nearer to the shore. The tracks turned northward as the land meets the sea and we run along the shore in the final stretch to the small harbor town of Mallaig.
The station we pull in to is the end of the line. Across the water is the Isle of Skye. Ferries run from here to the Inner and Outer Hebrides, which are the collection of islands setting west of mainland Scotland in the North Atlantic. We will have a couple of hours here before the train makes the return journey to Fort William. Mallaig, as stated, is a small town. The downtown area is dominated by cafes and shops that cater to the tours which come via the ferry and the train. Rhonda would like to have a little lunch on the train ride back. We find the Coop grocery downtown and proceed to do a little shopping. Grocery stores in foreign countries are always an interesting adventure. We find some smoked mackerel and Orkney cheese to go with it. She buys some oat cakes which are like a heavier version of water crackers and are really tasty. We locate cute little bottles of Fleur de Prairie, which is a French rosé we are familiar with. She buys a couple to take back on the train to have with our fish and cheese. My stomach has been rather upset today and we ask at the checkout if there is a chemist nearby. We are told there is one a block up the hill, but we had better be fast because they will be closing for lunch soon. We make our way up and find the pharmacy with ease. As we stand before a small shelf the pharmacist comes out to ask if he can help and we settle on getting some Rennie tablets for £3.15. The hope is these will help settle my stomach. We pop into a few shops, the most interesting being the toy shop and a little tea shop down by the water. As we walk back towards the station we see The Marine Bar. There is a huge outcrop of rock coming up through the sidewalk outside of the building. It is an interesting feature of the town which sits on the shore and reminds you of the rugged landscape around you. We pop into the bar and Rhonda gets a nice cider. I defer and just chew a couple of my Rennie tablets. As the time comes for the train to depart, we make our way back to the station and see they have shuffled the engine to the opposite end of the train. The engine was facing forward and pulling the cars as we made our way here, now the engine will be once again pulling the cars as it heads back, but it will be facing backwards. Apparently, they have the side track available to move it to the opposite end, but being such a small station there is no turntable to rotate it. The arrangement looks unusual, but will get the job done.
Our seats for the return journey are different than for the trip here. Now we are going to be sitting in car A, and since the tables are arranged opposite from car B, we will be sitting on the opposite side of the train from what we were on the trip here. It is nice they shuffle people’s seats so they aren’t facing out the same side both ways. As the train gets underway Rhonda makes herself a lunch out of a part of the cheese and fish. We both like the oak cakes but I settle on eating the scone we bought yesterday at the Bakehouse. I am still feeling off and want to be gentle on my stomach. Rhonda is drinking her wine from one of the tea cups since that is the only vessel at the table. We are again served tea which I take along with my scone and some water. The weather remains mostly cloudy without rain. The sun peeks out through patches of blue sky from time to time to light up the mountains and lochs. We pass a pleasant couple of hours on the return journey to Fort William. Oddly, it doesn’t seem like two hours have elapsed by the time the train is slowing to pull back into the station. I am happy we have had the opportunity to ride an antique steam train and that the rain stayed away during our journey.
We both opt to use the restrooms here in the Fort William station before walking downtown. Luckily, I have the proper coins to get us in as being a public station they charge a nominal fee to get through the turnstile and into the facilities. After we are relieved, I walk the leftover food and cribbage board back to the car. Returning to meet Rhonda at the curb we find the path which passes through a short tunnel under the road and on to the High Street of Fort William. The High Street is the main drag through the heart of old downtown Fort William. Most of it is limited to pedestrian traffic. It is one road up from the shore of the loch and the view across the water and to the mountains beyond is quite nice. We’re looking to see if there is any live music in town, but being a Thursday, we find none. We spy a whisky shop and stop in. We taste a few new things and purchase a couple of mini bottles. We spend a little time strolling through a kirkyard next to a very old church here on the street. Most of the stones are from a couple of hundred years ago and provide some interesting names and stories. While we stroll the grave sites a small group of boys approach us and asks us if we have seen the vagrant nearby. They claim he exposed himself to them and they seem a bit indignant he has settled in their town. There is a mother nearby trying to keep the boys out of trouble and she seems embarrassed by the affair and their brashness in talking to us as strangers. However, they have alerted the local police. The police arrive on the scene and find the fellow behind the construction fence near the church. The boys are interviewed by the officers and the vagrant taken from where he is squatting under the eaves of St. Andrew’s Church to the station. It seems the four boys will have a story to tell tomorrow at school.
We pop into a pub attached to a restaurant to have a seat and a drink. The place is the Ben Nevis Inn & Pub and is quite busy. We find a small table and have a couple of ciders. After a little while an older couple and their grown daughter sit at the table next to us after we indicate to them it has been abandoned by the previous patrons. We find they are from Philadelphia and traveling with their daughter. They are well traveled, but this is their first trip to Scotland. We have a pleasant conversation, comparing notes about the different places we have been. I give them a crash course on haggis and whisky, both of which they ask about. Eventually, they take their leave. We are about done ourselves and find a nice couple we give our seats to on our way out. We are looking for a little spot of dinner and wind up at The Grog & Gruel across the road. We had reviewed the menus of a few other establishments but nothing took our fancy. This happens to be the same place we ate at six years ago. The upstairs dining room is closed, but we can order in the pub and find an empty seat in the corner near the front window. I’m still feeling a bit off but manage to take in some lentil soup for dinner. After we’ve had enough of each of our plates, neither of which are finished, we take our leave and make our way back up High Street to the station. The parking lot is nearly empty now and we have a short drive back to the Brevins. We get back just before 9:00 and quickly fill out our breakfast slips which I run downstairs to leave in the basket by the front door. I run into Vince and Brenda and we have a nice chat about many things including the weather and the midges. I don’t realize how long we have been going on until Rhonda pops her head out at the top of the stairway looking for me, as she thought I got lost. We say our goodnights and Rhonda and I settle in for the evening with a little whisky as we watch the movie Barbarian on Film4 to close out the day.
Day 8 – August 23rd (Journey to Culross)
Today we journey from Fort William to Culross. We are going to take a route down along Loch Lomond so we have about three hours in the car today. Thus, as we usually plan, we are in no particular rush and can have a leisurely breakfast. Rhonda has an egg on a waffle with some beans and I have blueberry pancakes with a side bowl of granola with blueberries and crème fraîche. We have a nice conversation with our hosts, Vince and Brenda, after breakfast. Eventually we are saying our goodbyes and getting things packed up and starting today’s journey, hoping the weather will cooperate with us today. Glencoe is a remarkable valley but was socked in with low clouds and light rain last time we passed through. We are hoping to have a better experience this time.
The skies in Fort William are mostly overcast as we load the car. As we start southward along the shores of Loch Linnhe we enjoy the views of the water and mountains. Near the town of Corran we turn east and crossover the water where Loch Leven and Loch Linnhe come together. The view over the water towards the mountains as we cross over Ballachulish Bridge is quite stunning. Usually, your views are limited to the shores, but being out in the middle of the loch as you cross over the bridge changes the perspective. The steep slopes climbing to the clouds from the shores bracket you in, creating a frame that focuses your attention down the long loch. We follow the shores of Loch Leven until we come to the town of Glencoe at the entrance of the famous valley of the same name. As we have been driving the sky has been opening up and is now about half blue with patchy clouds spread across the rest. As we continue down the glen we see a sign for a small parking area not far beyond the visitor’s center. We attempted to make a stop at the visitor’s center, but the lot was very full and we decided to move on. The lot we pull into now is a small collection of gravel spots hidden in a grove of trees where you can park your car at a trailhead. We make our way over a little open ground to a paved walkway or bike path we see running parallel to the road. We walk along it a little way to get out of the trees and into the sun, which feels good despite the chilly breeze. Coming up a small rise we look around and see we are at the meeting of two glens with imposing mountains rising on three sides. The sun is full on the mountainside, illuminating the rocks and brightening the vegetation to a vivid green. Glistening streams flow down the mountainside in deep clefts. It is the sort of spot that just begs to be appreciated by staying in place and gazing all around. If we were better equipped for hiking it would be fun to see where the trail goes and what is around the next bend. Finally turning back to the car park, as we approach the auto we find a small family looking around. We tell them where to crossover to the path and to walk about 50 yards along to get out of the trees and gain some spectacular views. The are appreciative of the help and grab their jackets out of the car and follow our advice.
As we continue to the east, the scenery gets even better and I take the opportunity to pull off frequently, where I get a chance. At one pullout I walk up a slope to get above the road. The wind is blowing but the sun is on my face is warm. I play with the exposure on my camera and try taking some pictures in different directions to see if I can capture the greenness all around us. The runnels and waterfalls coming off the mountains are numerous and create silver reflections in the sun as if there are long mirrors running down meandering paths on the mountainside. I find it hard to capture the steepness of the mountains and depth of the scene. I am content to just stand and appreciate things, fixing the image in my memory. Back in the car we make our way along and pass The Three Sisters, which are neighboring peaks on the south side of the valley. About midway up the valley there is a crook in the road at The Meeting of Three Waters. I see an open parking spot along the road and quickly pull over. There are just too small parking areas, which are really just wide shoulders, one eastbound and one westbound, where cars can park in this narrow passage. We walk back along the road to the bridge which overlooks a large waterfall being joined by two other smaller waterfalls. Thus, the name, The Meeting of Three Waters, is explained. We can see people walking on the rise above us. Walking the trails in this glen could be a beautiful experience, but we are not prepared for that today. Lorries, freight trucks, use this highway to get their cargo to points on either side of the mountains. Between them and the tourists, the road can be a tad busy. It must be frustrating for them to have so many cars watching the scenery and not the road as they are just trying to do their job. A couple of them bray their horns at cars that have tried to park where there is no space and are poking a little too far into the lane of traffic. This is only a two-lane road there is not a lot of extra room. The sun is still with us and lights up the cascading water. It is quite a captivating scene we missed entirely when driving through here six years ago. I am glad we have stopped this time.
Continuing along, the glen begins to open out somewhat. While the mountains are still steep, they have moved back and given way to a wider valley. As we pass out of Glencoe and on to Rannoch Moor the road begins to turn south. The moor is a wide open plain dotted with numerous small lochs and rivers, marking the passage of glaciers ages ago. However, we are still in the highlands and as we pass the Bridge of Orchy we once again find ourselves driving in steep glens. A tad north of Clifton we enter Trossachs National Park and pull over into a small gravel parking lot which serves a trailhead. There is a river and a rail line running parallel to the road and we get out of the car and into the sun to appreciate the landscape. The mountain rises sharply before us and commands your attention. After a period of time we begin to spot sheep. They are scattered all over the mountainside eating the grass, oblivious to the rest of the world. It is funny how cows cluster and sheep spread out when you see them in field. They are apparently untroubled by the steep terrain and are just looking for the most succulent of the grasses on which to feed. Returning to the road we continue south.
A few miles before we get to Loch Lomond we find the place we want to stop for lunch. It is The Drovers Inn. The Inn used to be a stop for cattlemen driving their herds from the north to the south at the change of the season. They were known as the drovers, and thus the name. This establishment has been a continuous operation as an inn and pub since the 1500s. It fell somewhat into disrepair in the late 1800s, but an eccentric gentleman came along and rescued it. The place is reputed to be the most haunted inn in Scotland. One of the many haunts reputed to exist here is Angus, a drover who had his lord’s herd stolen. After being turned out by his lord he returned to the inn planning to exact revenge on the raiders but was instead hung by them from a tree behind the inn. The building sits on the eastern side of the road along the River Falloch. The mountain slopes rise steeply on either side of this narrow glen. We find the parking lot is mostly empty as we pull in and park under a big tree. The three-story building is constructed of unassuming grey stones of various shades with a dark slate roof. There is nothing flashy and only a small sign over the front door to let you know where you are.
Stepping inside you realize you’re in a different place. The front hall is filled with stuffed animals of all kinds, including a bear in a kilt which greets you as you come in the door. There is a dining room ahead and one to the right which are both empty at the moment. We turn to the left and proceed into the pub. It is a low, dark room with heavy beams and a fireplace. The whole place is full of character. The dark wooden tables and chairs show the wear of decades and the stone walls are covered with paintings and armaments. We approach the bar and take a glance at the menu. Rhonda makes a quick choice and claims a table. I greet the lady behind the bar and tell her what we would like. She says she will take care of the drinks now, but doesn’t want to put in a food order before noon when the kitchen opens or they get a little miffed. I say this is not a problem as I want to keep her and the kitchen on good terms. Getting tea at a pub in the English Isles doesn’t raise any eyebrows. I first witnessed this when with Kim and Wilf in Dublin. The lady behind the bar pours Rhonda’s cider and then gets me all the accoutrements for a hot tea. Our table is under one of the windows across from the bar. We sit with our backs to the wall so we have a nice view of the space we are in. When I walk through a narrow hall back towards the restroom, I see things hiding in alcoves and aren’t currently on display, like a suit of armor and other framed pictures that the walls don’t have space for. The establishment begins to fill up as the noon hour arrives. The pub area gets busy and we can hear more noise coming from the dining rooms across the way. The lady behind the bar gets our food orders in and a little while later Rhonda has a haggis melt and I a bowl of carrot soup. My stomach is better today though still not quite normal yet. The soup is very good with an interesting spice to it. Rhonda’s haggis melt is tasty, but too much for her to finish. When our meal is complete, we take a stroll through the first floor to view the collections. The man who rescued the inn and brought it back from the brink of collapse was a collector. All of the taxidermy and other oddities spread around the place are his acquisitions. Amongst a multitude of deer can be found an albino badger and wild haggis. The albino badger is real and very rare. The wild haggis is a taxidermist’s creation, like the jackalope of the Great Plains. The Drovers Inn is a unique establishment and I’m glad we’ve made the stop. With our bellies full and no ghosts found we deem it is time to get back on the road.
In the matter of a couple of miles we have reached the north end of Loch Lomond. The road hugs the shore along the western edge of this very large loch. The scenery is picturesque and serene, though sometimes the road passes through thickly wooded stretches where not much can be made out beyond the trees. There are not many turnouts where you can get to the side of the water and appreciate the views. I spot one such stop with enough time to slow down and turn in. Only a few cars will fit in the small area and we are lucky enough to find a space. We take a short stroll to get as close to the bank as we can and look out over the water. The bank is steep and falls off sharply beyond the canopy of the trees we are under. Looking southward we see the loch widens and is dotted with islands. At this end the banks on either side are narrow as the slopes climb sharply out of the water. Things are less steep further south as the water spreads out to fill the widening space between the mountains. The sky is still mostly cloudy, but there is no threat of rain. The sun is able to break out in spots and sparkles on the waves and brightens the purple heather on the mountains.
Traffic is heavy along this road as it is a major north-south route. It does thin out from time to time, but we never have the road to ourselves. As we drive along and start to get closer to the southern end Rhonda does a little searching on her phone. She is still looking for a place to buy and woolen cardigan. We have tried a few shops in the towns we’ve stayed in, but nothing has captured her interest or has been manufactured from Scottish wool. She identifies a farm shop along our route and has no more than spit out the name, Auchentullich, when I ask if that is it just up the road. I make a quick turn into the farm and park along the fence. It is here we have our only sighting of a highland cow on this trip. There are a few in the pasture next to the car park, though they are a little way off, grazing in peace. We walk into the outbuilding which serves as the store and see this is truly a farm shop selling mostly comestibles produced locally along with some crafty items of a home spun nature. Unfortunately, there are no woolen goods here. Back in the car she finds a likely spot in the town of Alexandria, which is situated on the southern shores of Loch Lomond. As we arrive in town, we wind our way through some side roads and then towards a sort of industrial area where we see the Loch Lomond distillery. This is somewhat coincidental since we bought a bottle of their whisky in Inverness. Just past the distillery is what we’re looking for, the Antartex Village. There is a rather large parking lot out front of a sprawling old industrial building that has been repurposed as a collection of shops. The lot seems rather full, which seems promising. Entering in, we see they are selling mostly soft goods, though there are some hard goods towards the back. Since we have been on the road for a spell, we both avail ourselves of the restrooms here. Strolling about we see most everything here is not what we’re looking for. It’s more of a collection of clothing and goods, plus a little eatery, especially attuned for senior citizens. Everything here is just what we see old people wearing, or imagined what they would have in their homes. Also, the clientele, and indeed most of the staff, seem to be pensioners. This has been a bust and we decide just to get on the road and continue towards our destination.
Our road turns east from Alexandria and as we head across the country we see it has become much flatter and more open as it transitions from the highlands to the lowlands. We are approaching the town of Stirling from the west. This is a new perspective for us. We see the castle sitting on top of the solitary stony mount in the middle of the plain. It is quite a formidable defensive position. On the other side of the hill is where the River Forth runs and the British came out of the castle to fight William Wallace. They were defeated by his army at the bridge crossing the river. We pick back up the expressway in Stirling and continue southeast along the Firth of Forth. After some distance we cross a bridge over the firth and continue east as we near our destination. We have to rely on the navigator because we are headed for a very small town on the edge of the water, some distance from the highway. We miss our first turn and thankfully navigation calculates a new route. Our way is very twisty on single-track roads winding through the fields, but eventually we make it down to the shore and find the town of Culross, pronounced coo-riss.
We are staying at The Dundonald. It is in the heart of the little town and we are easing our way around the narrow lanes to find the road it is on. The very center of town still has old cobblestone roads that have not been paved over and are very weathered and uneven. This is quite fitting as most of the old town was built in the fifteen and sixteen hundreds. Our hostess, Laura, had provided directions via email and we know where we can park our car for the evening. It is a short walk from the car to the front door of The Dundonald. I have to lift and carry the bags as these tall cobbles would probably beat the snot of the wheels on the suitcases. We are greeted at the door by a friend of Laura’s since she knew about when we would be arriving and she would not be back until later. The building is very old, having been built in 1661, but the furnishings and decor inside are very modern. Though pleasant, it is a little disappointing they didn’t go for an older style of décor inside the building. We get checked in and then given the front door key and our room key. We are staying on the third floor and I haul the bags up the stairs to our door. The room was quite nice even if the modern eclectic décor seems a bit odd. The front of the room faces the street and the water beyond. Being on the third floor we have a nice view over the rooftops to the water. There is a pair of binoculars sitting on the windowsill, which is a nice touch. There are two chairs flanking a small table setting by the windows in the dormer. It makes for a cozy little sitting area. We get ourselves unpacked for the evening and do just a touch of organizing for the day tomorrow. We have an early start tomorrow in order to get to the airport across the water in time for our morning flight. The task doesn’t take long, and we head out to take a stroll about the town before the sun gets too low.
We have reservations at The Red Lion Inn this evening. It is the only pub in town and I called to make the reservations after communicating with the Laura some weeks ago. The town has an old feel to it because there are no modern buildings in sight. The old part of town is actually managed by the National Trust, which is why it has been preserved so well. For this reason, it was used in various episodes of the Outlander TV series, and other productions. It played the role of Cranesmuir in the first and seventh seasons of Outlander, which is the town where Clare and Geillis are tried for witchcraft. The very small square in the center of town, Mercat Cross, is just up the block from our B&B. It is easily recognizable from the episodes we saw as there is a tall stone post topped with a rearing unicorn. We also stumble across a house with a small garden which includes a couple of fruit trees and many herbs and plants. A round wooden sign by the front door says, “Sassenach Apothecary”. There are some roses hanging over the wall which have a very good scent even though they are starting to fade. We figure this was used as Laoghaire’s home in season four. On our walk we come across a short lane with the appropriate name of “Wee Causeway”. We have noticed in conversation that “wee” is a word which is very much in vogue in Scotland and used to describe a lot of things. Walking down to the water we find the pub, but then continue along towards the city park, which is not far beyond. The road that runs along the water is paved as are the other roads once they get out of the heart of downtown. There are still no modern buildings, though. The park is next to the train tracks which run right along the water. The area is quaint and very quiet. The old merchant houses situated across the road from the park are where people would bring their goods to load aboard ships for transport to the wide world beyond when this was a thriving port. The waterline used to be where the road is now. In front of the old merchant house is the remains of a contraption where the huge scale used to weigh coal and crops was situated. The scene here back in the 1600s would be quite a different one when this was the center of the Scottish coal industry. The town was pretty much forgotten by the Victorian age, but is now a preserved little jewel. The land has been extended and the shore no longer sits along the road, but now is sixty to seventy yards beyond it. In the public park there are a lot of school age children playing, despite the cold wind and chill air. It is well past five and the few shops here are all closed, so we stroll along the water and back towards The Red Lion Inn.
We make our way into the pub and say we are rather early for a reservation for dinner. The girls behind the bar say our table is ready if we want it. We have a small table with a bench on only one side which faces the rest of the room. We like to sit next to each other when possible, so this is perfect for us. I get us a couple of ciders at the bar and we sit and relax. The walls in the pub are filled with old prints and pictures. The wooden beamed ceiling is covered with painting of various brewery logos. There is a print hanging just next to our seat titled Blind Man’s Bluff. We enjoy exploring all of the details in the mid-1800s engraving. It is a scene of older kids playing the titular game in what looks like a large schoolroom where all of the chairs have been set to the side. The fireplace is immediately next to us though it is not lit. A few of the other tables are full with drinkers or diners and we can hear some voices from the room beyond. The people watching is good, if at a slower pace than a larger town like Inverness. A fair number of dogs are welcomed in. During a trip to the restroom located off the adjoining room, I notice there are a couple of dog friendly tables in the back room where they have prepared a couple of spots where folk’s furry friends can rest.
Eventually, I approached the bar and place our dinner order and also get another round of drinks. We order just a couple of small plates. One is a baked brie with onion jam and oat cakes. The other is duck pâté with orange, which also comes with oat cakes. The duck pâté is decent, but the onion jam and brie are a surprisingly tasty combination. When we are done with our small plates we sit and sip our ciders and continue to appreciate the artwork and people. We take guesses as to the titles of a couple of prints across the room from us that we can’t quite make out. Once the patrons across from us leave, I stand up and take the dozen steps over just to satisfy our curiosity. A large group comes in and sits at the table on the other side of the fireplace from us. Someone in the group has overdosed themselves with perfume. It is quite overpowering to the point of being unpleasant. Fortunately, we have wrapped things up and we make our payment at the bar before heading out. The sun is still up, though low, and the weather is overcast and cold. We walk back up through the small square and over to The Dundonald. Laura, our hostess, greets us at the door when she hears us come in. We have a discussion about the morning as we will have to leave before breakfast is served. She tells us to lock the outer door drop the key through the slot when we go. We have a nice chat in the foyer about what the town went through for filming scenes for Outlander. Apparently, the production company painted all the buildings gray for the filming with the promise they would repaint all of the buildings afterwards. She says that was the last time most of the buildings in the town were painted. We part ways and head upstairs to our room. We watch the landscape and I avail myself of the binoculars. We pour out a little whisky and finish the task of getting things ready for morning.
Day 9 – August 24th (Homeward Bound)
We are up with the sun this morning and on our way to the airport in short order. Once back on the highway the trip is pretty quick. Just a little east we come to the triple bridges which cross the firth and take you into Edinburgh. The airport is on the northwest side of the city and it takes us about a half of an hour to get there from our bed and breakfast. We get the vehicle checked back in and realize we forgot to fill the tank. This is not much of an issue though, as they will just charge us for what they need to put in. We get our morning constitutional as we walk the bags from the car rental lots and into the terminal. The bags are checked with plenty of time before the flight and we determine to spend the time at the gate. We once again have a large, twin prop plane that takes on the short hop from Edinburgh to Dublin.
The Dublin airport has an interesting arrangement for flights headed to the United States. There is a pre- check area where you take care of your US customs in the Dublin Airport. TSA workers from the States come over and stay for a few months while working here. The customs line is long this morning, but we have time. There is a young lady in line in approximately the middle of the whole crowd. Abruptly, people starting to spread out from her and then it happens, she throws up on the floor. People continue to spread out as best they can given the stanchions creating the queue. She continues to empty her stomach and many people began to cover their noses to save themselves from doing the same. Staff quickly come along and reroutes the stanchions and a couple of people approach to help her out. A man comments to her, “Now you’ll have a story to tell.” It will either be a story punctuating a really raucous evening the night before or just a bad time with illness in Ireland.
As we get to the front of the line there are several officers in their booths working their way through the travelers. There is one grumpy looking agent who speaks curtly just to our left. Thankfully she doesn’t call us up before a rather congenial fellow to our right motions us forward. We have a nice chat with him after he asks us if we have anything to declare. I tell him we have just three bottles of Scotch. He says the limit is two each so it will be fine. I make a tongue in cheek declaration that we could have picked up another. He says he's been in country for a few months but doesn't go out to drink much anymore though he likes it. He said he found he was getting too many drinks bought for him in the pubs by the ladies who wanted to hear his southern drawl. He states he just couldn’t take anymore of trying to keep up with the Irish when drinking. We part with the remark that this has been the most fun customs interview we’ve ever had.
We want to have one last Guinness before heading back home, but once through the pre-customs area your options are limited. You can’t go anywhere else in the airport except for this one concourse with the gates for the flights headed to the US. There is one small counter open which is serving some sandwiches and breakfast items. Rhonda grabs us the one table that is available and I stand in the line to get us a couple of pints of Guinness and something for breakfast. We pass the time pleasantly, but make sure we get to the gate early enough to ensure we are in the right place. While we enjoyed our time in Dublin, one missed flight per trips is enough. When we are finally airborne, we are able to make a comparison between the Scottish and the Irish countryside. Both a very green and really the difference comes down to how the fields and pastures are defined. All the fences in Ireland are stone while Scotland has a mixture of stone and wood. The flight home is long but passes uneventfully. Back in Dulles things go smoothly and the alternate route home only takes us a couple hours. That is by far our quickest trip home from Dulles. This encourages us to continue to consider Dulles for future flights to Europe.
Our return to Scotland has been a joy. We were able to revisit some locations we had been to before and discover some new things while there. We also explored some place which were wholly new to us. The scenery in the Highlands of Scotland is simply spectacular. Rugged mountains and picturesque lochs covered in green and purple. The people were friendly and welcoming. We picked up on common speech affectations like “Hi Ya” being a common greeting and a lot of things being described as “Wee”. The Scottish brogue cuts off a lot of words and punctuates the conversation with plenty of “Aye”. Our dining experiences held some really special moments and fantastic dishes. The ability to explore such a wide range of Scotch whiskies also broadened our appreciation of the spirit. All in all, we returned home with the desire to expatriate to Inverness. Whether this is a fanciful wish, or a serious endeavor, only time will tell.
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