Lake District cont'd

"I can't buy a watch here, it'll be on England time."

Lauren and I were in no real hurry when we got up for our last few hours in Edinburgh before starting our England portion of the trip in the Lake District. I was still a little upset about seeing the end of the Haggis tour, but I was going to try my best not to let it spoil the day.

It's a funny thing they say about traveling through the UK. Everyone who's been here says that if you're going to visit Scotland and England, start in London and work your way north, instead of the other way around as we've done. I always thought that that was because the Highlands were not much to see and it was better just to take a quick tour right before going home. I thought that is was because the English countryside was so beautiful that there was no way you could possibly wait until the end of your trip to see it. I though I had outsmarted everyone by going to see Scotland (which was really just what Lauren had wanted to see anyway) first, but I'd thought wrong.

Now don't get me wrong. England is an absolutely beautiful country, and I'm getting very excited at the prospect of seeing more of it, but I am so completely in love with the Highlands and today it just seemed like not much else could compare. It also doesn't help that the Scottish have a particular opinion of the English which they like to voice rather loudly, and going to England after hearing it for six days straight kind of makes you feel like you're making friends with the enemy.

Despite my disposition, I think we've had a good day in the Lake District (I'd have to consult Lauren's journal to see if she felt otherwise...). Actually, what I should have said is that we had a good day in Ambleside. The Lake District is a huge national park which one would need weeks to fully explore, and since we only had one day we had to choose one small town and see it fully instead of trying to cram everything into an impossible amount of time.

We actually didn't even arrive into Ambleside until 1 p.m., but it was a beautiful day and we decided to take advantage of it as much as we could. We stayed at a Backpacker hostel owned by an elderly couple. It's location was central and the rooms were very clean, so we were pleased. Upon arrival we unloaded our bags and headed to reception to ask the usual questions (were is the nearest grocery store, what time is lock-out, are there any special events going on at all etc. etc.). They were very kind and provided us with a map of one of the footpaths to take through the countryside. Still not completely civilized from our trip through the Highlands, Lauren and I both jumped at the chance for some fresh mountain air. We chose one which was recommended by the hostel and headed out to enjoy the sunshine.

First we got our lunch at a SPAR, a kind of mini-grocery store they have over here, and explored the town looking for a place to eat it. We wound up on a bench in an outdoor patio sort of area, and enjoyed our baguettes and pasta salad while watching dogs and young children chase pigeons around the square.

Our walk was long and scenic, which was exactly what we had been hoping for. It took about two hours to complete, and though it was nowhere as rigorous as some of our previous outdoor escapades, it was a beautiful walk through woods, past a waterfall and even into farmers' fields! It took me a while to warm up to this place, which I originally though was trying to be like the Highlands and was simply not succeeding. I realized later (after we'd left) that it's just different, and perhaps I hadn't given it enough of a chance. It has now become one of those places I feel I need to go back to for a week or two, exploring every crevice its natural setting has to offer.

Our walk was followed by a little window shopping in town. Lauren spotted a geology store and looked like she'd found a little piece of Heaven. The two of us looked around there for a while, both marveling at the interesting fossils and stones as well as looking for potential gifts for those at home. We came out empty-handed,but it was still a really neat experience. Finally, before stopping by the hostel to change for dinner, we visited the Old Mill, the one thing Lauren had really wanted to see in the village of Ambleside, and snacked on some fudge we'd bought before going on our walk.

Dinner was had at 'Pippin's,' a little café Lauren and I had read about in one of our guide books, and decided we must dine at simply because of the name. It had no Lord of the Rings connection, at least none that we could see, but it was still pretty neat, especially because their lunch special was mushroom soup :). Lauren and I wound up splitting a pizza and had a decent and fairly cheap meal.

Coming back from dinner we met out second roommate, and Aussie who was taking part in a hop-on-hop-off Haggis tour through England. She was a school teacher who looked as though she'd going all summer and still had a few weeks to go. She had that sort of 'traveling-too-long' way about her that I've seen in a few people since being over here. It's that kind of mood where you feel like you've seen and done everything, and not much will surprise you anymore. Seeing the two of us, fresh-faced from our trip to Scotland, I think she got a little impatient with our incessant ramblings about our trip so far, especially when we found out she was doing a Haggis tour.

Our other roommate, a second grade school teacher from the States, was very nice, although she was a little frustrated with the weather (it had rained the two days previous to our arrival). Despite this though, she was very much enjoying her time overseas. We had met her after coming back from our walk.

The both of them looked like they were just about ready to go to bed by the time we got dressed and were ready to go out to the pub. We'd seen an advert for karaoke in front of one of the pubs on the main street, and though we didn't quite have the confidence we'd had in Loch Ness to actually go up and sing anything, we were quite happy with going to watch other people make fools of themselves!

On our way out we met a few boys who were staying at the hostel. At first they looked as though they might be up for a party, but after talking with them for a few minutes they told us they were actually stranded in the Lake District, and had been there for almost three weeks. They were apparently having trouble getting their money out of the British Banks, and were staying at the hostel for free because of the kindness of the owners, scrounging food where they could. I almost felt sorry for them until someone came out with a piece of cake for the two of them, and they got a little too excited about it for my taste! Lauren and I quickly excused ourselves and continued on our way.

The pub was fun. We were a little bored at first because all the people stepping up to the mic were actually good! Where's the fun in that?? After a while, though, we met a couple of English women who were up for the weekend with some friends (who they had eventually lost). We chatted for a while, and when the smoke and the volume got too high for any of us to bare, we headed out, talking until we had to split up to get to our respective hostels.

Lauren and I went straight up to bed when we got back, but it would be a while before we'd actually get any sleep. This was partly because of the family with screaming kids running through the halls past midnight, and partly because the Haggis tour group, which was staying at the hostel, came in at 1 a.m. with absolutely no respect for those who were obviously trying to sleep. It was the first, and hopefully the last, time I had to use my earplugs.

Day 6 - Loch Ness to Edinburgh

Day 6 was largely uneventful, save for one activity. Ruaridh had managed to work more than magic and had not only booked us a tour on Loch Ness, he managed to get us each a seat on the same boat as we were supposed to be on the night before. That meant we would also be getting the much anticipated commentary of the biologist on board.

Though interesting, his research was not exactly conclusive, and scientist-Lauren had a few questions which made him stumble a bit. There's now doubt that there's something down in the depths of Loch Ness (which though narrow is deep enough to cover the whole of Britain with 6 inches of water, and only has visibility on the ten feet nearest to the surface) the mystery still remains as to what exactly it is. The US Navy has recently put a lot of money into providing equipment with lights bright enough to explore the depths of Ness, which would be a big improvement to the impressive yet still primitive sonar screens currently installed on the front of the boat. They have the technology to tell when there is something directly below them, but it rarely has any discernible form, nor can it determine what kind of object it is, which leaves much room for speculation.

The cruise was, however, informative and entertaining. It was really neat to see that though it is very unlikely that the dinosaur-with-flippers type image which is most often seen to be 'Nessy' lives in the deep waters of Loch Ness, it is quite undeniable that something very big and very unlike any other animal on this earth swims in its depths.

After the cruise, all that was left was the long ride back to Edinburgh. Ruaridh made a few stops to walk in the woods and another stop at the same Safeway we'd hit on day 2 after we'd climbed the mountain. We sat in a park to eat and then asked a kind gentlemen to take a photo of us all in front of the big yellow bus, and we were on our way again.

When we got back to Edinburgh I found the city to be rainy and without the same allure with which the Highlands had captured my heart. It still is a beautiful city and will remain one of my favourites in the world, but no man-made structure, no matter how grand and tall, can compare with the beauty of nature. I came back to the city wet, tired and with a great sense of loss, knowing I had become quite fond of these people I had spent the last 6 days with, and it was very unlikely I'd ever see any of them again. We exchanged email addresses and have promised to keep in touch, but save for a few I knew these were idle promises. I guess that's one of the downsides of traveling, eventually you have to go home, and it never quite feels the same. I'm not home yet, but the Haggis tour was like a vacation within a vacation and the feeling of loss is just as strong (if not more so) then the one I'll have when I finally do leave this country behind.

The rain did not help our misery, and neither did the almost hour-long wait outside Waverly Station with our bags, waiting for the bus to take us to the Globetrotter for our last night in Scotland. It would be spent doing laundry, sporting our brand new Haggis shirts (our only clean clothing at that point). We also met an Australian couple in the laundry room who were booked in for a three-day tour, and had a had a nice time telling them all about our adventures.

I'll miss Scotland, but I know I'll be back. I've got mountains to climb, caves to explore, and a kilted Scotsman to bag!

G'night!

Day 5 - Carbisdale to Loch Ness

We left the castle at 8:30 as usual the next morning, enjoying a bit of a lay-in because of the restless sleep the night before. There would be a bit of driving to do that day because we had to get to Loch Ness for our last night. It wasn't too far away, but enough to give us sleepy-heads enough time for a nap here and there.

Our fist activity for day 5 was another climb up a mountain to some caves, though this climb was by no means as steep as the one from day 2. It was actually quite a nec walk, ascending slowly up the mountainside, and only getting steep near the very end when the caves came into view. We took a rest once we got up there, and Ruaridh told us about the bones and skulls which had been found deep in these caves throughout the last two decades. They were far too deep for us to explore without proper equipment, but Ruaridh grabbed my digital camera and crawled a bit deeper to get some shots to show us how far back it went. After everyone was rested and all photos were taken we made our way back down to the bus, stopping every so often for Ruaridh to point things out, like a river that started from nowhere, and a single tree which had grown on the mountainside even though there was nothing even slightly resembling it for miles.

Back on the bus, we continued on our way, stopping at a few nature spots, including a gorge and a waterfall which was full of Atlantic salmon trying to make their way upstream to spawn. It was neat to see them jumping out of the water, trying to get up the waterfall. I wish I had such determination to complete such a seemingly impossible task! We didn't see any actually make it up, but there were quite a few admirable tries!

Ruaridh stopped at a supermarket for lunch, and though they didn't have much, Lauren and I managed to up enough for a warm baguette and some meat and cheese. We ate on the bus, thinking about the three options for activities for the afternoon and evening. Ruaridh had given us three possibilities of things to do: 1) did we want to attend a small show which would teach us the customs of the clansman (yes!) 2) did we want to go on a boat cruise down the Loch Ness with a biologist who whole-heatedly believes there's something down there (yes yes!!) 3) if we opted for the cruise, did we want the hostel to make us a dinner of baked potato, beans and other such fillings (no!)? Lauren and I were both very excited about the show and the cruise, but a baked potato for dinner (especially one that cost £4.50!) was not very appetizing, so the two of us and Robyn (who felt much the same way) headed back to the Safeway to get some fresh pasta and turkey meat to cook up once we got to the hostel.

The clansmen presentation was really neat. We watched a really cheesy, low-budget film on the way of life for many clansmen. Though the costumes and props were very authentic, the acting was absolutely horrible, with a special emphasis on gruesome death noises. There was a live speaker, and he was very impressive. He showed as the uses of the original kilt (it wasn't called that then, it was simply a 'plaid') which is actually just a long piece of clothe in the clan's tartan about 8 metres long which folded and pleated into whatever shape was needed. It was used as camouflage, a blanket, and of course, covering for the body.

Scott, one of the guys in our tour, and who we'd come to know as G.I. Joe because of his tall stature, rugged good looks and his tendency to wear army fatigues, was volunteered by the rest of us wear the full dress of the clansman. Isabelle volunteered to be his wife. I must say, I'm sure their clothing was very practical and very warm, but sure wasn't flattering to the figure! Both of them were good sports though, and received and well-deserved round of applause at the end.

After the show and a quick tour around the shop (we got a necklace for Shannon!) we were herded back on the bus to hear some very disappointing news: the cruise down Loch Ness which we'd all been very much looking forward to was cancelled due to the impending thunderstorm that was being predicted for the reason that night. Ruaridh said he would ty his best to find another one in the morning, but insisted that there were no guarantees. We were all a little disappointed, though Lauren, Robyn and I were slightly relieved that we wouldn't have to rush to make and eat our dinner as soon as we got to the hostel.

The hostel was our next and last stop of the day, and though it did have a four-star rating for its facilities (very decent, though nowhere near as nice as the Globetrotter!) we found the staff to be quite condenscending and unwelcoming as they herded us into a line like 4-year-olds and organized our rooms so that hardly any of us from the tour were together. Lauren and I both booked at the same time, so we were together in a room with three other girls from a three-day tour which had just begun. We had an ensuite bathroom in our room, though, so we really had nothing to complain about (unlike Robyn, who was alone, not even in the main portion of the hostel and had a shared bathroom with a bunch of people she didn't even know!).

The staff was also most unhelpful when Robyn, Lauren and myself tried to make our dinner, telling us first that we'd have to wait (even though all the other cooking had already been done) and then being very rude and inhospitable once we did finally get in there. We still wound up having a very good meal out of it though!

The one good thing that the hostel had was its own private bar, and after dinner it became the place to be. We had all collectively decided that we were going to party REALLY hard on our last night together, and Ruaridh even held back the meeting time until 9 a.m. so that we would have an extra half hour to sleep our hang-over away. The special at the bar that night was double shots and mixers for £1.80, so Lauren and I started knocking back our double rum and cokes early and didn't stop until last call. Ruaridh had reluctantly informed us all on the bus that there was a karaoke machine available for those brave (or drunk) enough to give it a try, and it didn't take long before the sign-up list came around and the machine made its way to the front of the bar.

As well as signing us ourselves up for two of three songs, Lauren and I secretly wrote down Scott and Andrew (another big hunky guy--though he's taken!) to sing "Macho-Man." Robyn, Isabelle, Lauren and myself started off the evening singing American Pie, which we'd had in our heads at Saucy Mary's and wound up singing all the way up to the castle. Ruaridh threatened to hang himself after the third verse (that song is soooo long! It's like 8 verses!!) , so we took a break after that. The four of us were the main holders of the microphones that evening, as well as Paul who is an absolute RIOT when he's drunk, but very quiet when he's sober. He and Anna, the other Kiwi, sang Summer Nights from Grease, which was easily the best song of the night (Anna has professional vocal training and Paul's just hilarious). Mike went up one or twice, the Spanish Girls did a Ricky Martin song, and to our surprise and amusement, when Ruaridh called their names with a laugh and a grin, Scott and Andrew did their duet to The Village People's "Macho-Man"!! They were, of course, a hit.

Our greatest conquest of the evening, however, was when we persuaded a song out of Ruaridh, who had adamantly stated several times that he would NOT be getting up to the microphone. He actually wasn't bad, despite his protests which used us otherwise. By that time we were all so drunk that we were all screaming along at the top of our lungs, making it impossible to distinguish one voice from the others. The karaoke pretty-well ended when Fabio and two other Italians in the bar got together to sing accapella versions of two Italian songs. Their singing finished with a loud blast of hoots and cheers from the superbly sozzled crown, and the machine was put away for another evening.

Following the karaoke I had what I hope to be the lowest point of the trip. I had been very liberal about my digicam throughout the six days, being careful to know its whereabouts at all times, but not being too paranoid about lending it out when someone wanted to take a shot from a better angle, or just to see how it works. Throughout the week, however, someone (I don't know or care who) were pushing buttons they weren't supposed to and had inadvertently changed the resolution of the pictures I'd been taking from the highest setting to the lowest, meaning the photos were most likely to turn out small and blurry. Finding out that my memories from what had undoubtedly been the best trip of tmy life were basically ruined, coupled with copious amounts of alcohol, the realization that this amazing trip was in fact ending the very next day, and left-over stress from the last year's tumultuous events sent me into a downward spiral which even Lauren had a hard time bringing me out of.

She managed to do a very good job of cheering me up, and though I still didn't feel like going back down to join the party, I went to bed a little lighter than I had been the hours before. Kind words from both Mike and Fabio (who's expressionism with such broken English was both impressive and touching) also helped to ease my overwhelming disappointment. I'm very thankful to have met such amazing people on this tour, but I'm even more thankful to be traveling with the best friend I've ever met, and though she may be harsh at times, always knows just what to say!

Day 4 - Skye to Carbisdale

Day 4 was slow and rainy. The great thing about having everyone on the tour stay out late is that Ruaridh has a hard time singling you out if all 19 of us look like we've been hit by an 18-wheeler when we drag our beer-soaked bums onto the bus at half passed 8 in the morning. On our way out from Skye we paused for a minute to take a photo of Eileen Donan Castle from her best angle, and then we headed back across the bridge (another £41!) to the mainland. We also visited Urquhart Castle that morning, though we didn't go in. It costs far too much for admission and by that point we'd seen so many ruined castles that they had lost luster (especially with a screaming hangover still fresh in your head).

Ruaridh also explained that this castle had not been ruined by age or battle, but had simply been blown up by its former occupants when they decided to leave it. A quick snap and a walk in the fresh air and we were back on the big yellow bus.

Our next stop was Culloden Moore, the sight of the last Jackobite uprising. A few thousand Scots fought against more than double their numbers of British by simply charging them with swords and shields. The British, of course, had guns and canons and wiped out the Jackobites in about 45 minutes. They would never rise again. The battlegrounds themselves were not much to look at: very hilly, bumpy and covered with heather. This, however, was exactly the way they were the day of the battle; unbelievably harsh terrain for an army whose sole military tactic was charging. Especially in kilts...yikes!

We received a brief account of the battle from Ruaridh, and then he let us explore the grounds of the memorial and take a look at the battlefield (which is still perfectly preserved and even has flags showing where each side would have been). It was a really awesome experience, and adds yet another dimension to the country's already colourful history.

Our next stop was the Glenmorangy Whisky Distillery. We were given a guided tour throughout the distillery by a guide who looked as though she could use a dram or two herself (way to serious about her job), and then we were taken to the testing room where we each received a free taste. I'm not a whiskey drinker usually, but I must admit I found this one to be fairly good compared to everything else I've tried. It wasn't as knock-you-out strong as other ones and didn't quite burn as much on the way down. Seasoned whiskey drinkers might find this the sign of a weak drink, but I found it quite enjoyable. As promised, I bought a small bottle for my grandfather, and a bottle and glass for my Dad.

After the distillery it was mostly just driving. Lunch was had in Inverness, one of the bigger (if not the biggest) cities in the highlands. This town had a bit of a reputation, however, for housing the ugliest people in Scotland. Ruaridh explained that there was of emphasis on keeping the bloodlines pure in Inverness, giving way for a lot of incest among families. The town on the whole gave me a wierd vibe, and though I did enjoy my pazza lunch there with Lauren and Robyn, I was glad to leave it behind.

That night we'd have the special treat of staying in a converted castle known as Carbisdale Castle in the town of the same name. The Youth Hostels Association has taken it over and turned it into quite nice lodgings for us wayward travelers. The story of how the castle come to be built is also pretty funny. Apparently there was this woman who married this very rich man who owned much of the land surrounding Carbisdale. When he died, however, his wife doctored his will so that he would leave all of his money and his land to her, leaving nothing else for his rather large and deserving family. The wife finally agreed to give up the land and the money to its rightful owners, but only if they built her a castle and paid for her to live in it. They agreed and built Carbisdale Castle just outside the property line.

The castle is massive and even has a clock tower, but only on three sides. You see, the wife was quite bitter about how things turned out, so on the side facing the family's land she didn't put a clock face because she didn't want to give them the time of day! That's the great thing about Scotland: absolutely EVERYTHING has a story behind it!

There isn't much of...well...ANYTHING in Carbisdale, so Ruaridh suggested that we stop at the Safeway on the way there and cook a huge meal for the whole group at the castle. Chicken currie was what we decided on, and we split into two groups: one for cooking and one for cleaning. Andrew and Alicia, the only couple on the trip (Australians) took it upon themselves to be the head chefs, and Lauren, Isabelle, Scott, Robyn and myself came along as back-up. We had a lot of fun in the kitchen and Andrew cooked a fantastic meal. The best part was: no dishes! After dinner Ruaridh told us that he was heading over to the nearest pub which was about a 15 minute walk away, and we were welcome to join him. The novelty of staying a in a castle hadn't quite worn off yet though, so a bunch of us got changed and made our way there a bit later after having a thorough tour of the castle and grounds.

The walk to the pub was an interesting one. You walked down a paved road for a bit, then you cut through a forest which led you out to a field which had lamp-posts with switches on them so you could turn them off on your way back. After the field you got to a bridge which served train tracks so you had to walk on the metal gate beside them, looking down at the deep water below.

The pub was fairly full inside when we got there, but the midges had chased everyone from the outdoor tables. We turned the heaters on to drive them away and sat out there, enjoying a pint (or three). We were apparently not the only Haggis tour staying at the castle that night so all the tour guides decided it would be a laugh to go around telling everyone about all the ghosts supposedly haunting the castle.

Ruaridh wanted no part of this, knowing that he'd be the first one we'd run to if we couldn't sleep, but word got 'round and we wound up hearing all three stories of Carbisdale's ghosts. The first was about one of the staff who quit because every time she went to make the beds in the castle's old playroom she could hear children's laughter. There had been a few accidental deaths involving children in the castle, and she was convinced that their spirits had all come together to play in the old playroom. The second is reported sighting of the women who owned the castle wearing all white and appearing in the windows. The third is of an old Scottish clansman who was killed in a battle on the grounds before the castle was built. Apparently he died and didn't realize it, so he still charges around the castle grounds, looking for enemies to kill. This ghost is the only one who's supposedly dangerous, and we were warned to run if we saw a kilted man running around the castle!

Now of course, telling us all these stories while we were sober would have done enough damage, but no, they waited until we'd had a few and were on our way back to the castle to scare the pants off us. Lauren and I left with Scott, a Australian who comes in at about 6'5" with a pretty well-built body, and Mike, a Dutchman who just doesn't look like he's afraid of anything, despite the fact that he's not really physically intimidating.

The last group to leave (shortly after us) were the three Belgian girls and the three Spaniards. Feeling safe with the big boys, Lauren and I decided to help them scare the CRAP out of the six girls. We turned off our flashlights and hid in the forest, waiting for the girls to come out from the field. As soon as they did we made loud screaming noises and Scott made like he was the dead clansman, letting out an impressive battle-cry. Suffice to say our plan worked, though perhaps a little too well, as I was even a little frightened by the end of it! Ruaridh even doubled back to make sure everyone was okay! We got out the flashlights and with Ruaridh leading, made it back to our beds safely.

Despite being a little frightened as to what was actually going on in the castle, the beer took over and I was soon out like a light within minutes of my head hitting the pillow. Apparently the telling of the stories in the pub and then the scare on the way back had really affected the Spanish girls who went around asking those still awake if they could sleep with the light on. They were bargained down to sleeping with flashlights in their beds to help them sleep, though I doubt they got much!

Day 3 - Isle of Skye

After a rude awakening (4 hours of sleep is really not enough to function!), we all piled onto the bus again for a tour of the Isle of Skye. Knowing that we were all tired from our exploits the night before, Ruaridh decided to start the day off with something that would wake us all up...mainly: dunking our heads into freezing cold water!

He told us a legend of a young woman who had been told by her clan that she would be wed to a prominent member of a rival clan in an attempt to create peace. Now, clan territory stretched on forever, so this young, beautiful woman was given a horse and some supplies and was sent on her way to make the long trip to her new home. She actually wound up doing fairly well on her own until she got near the end of the trip. Her horse slipped and she was thrown, landing precisely on her beautiful face. She broke her cheek bone and even managed to pop one of her eyes out (yes, all Scottish legends are this gruesome). Not wanting to let her clan down, she carried on and made it to the rival clan to meet her husband. However, when he saw this broken woman with only one eye (especially when he had been promised a beautiful maiden) he thought the other clan was insulting him and instead of creating peace through the marriage, he started a war.

Well the woman started on her way back home with no husband, no peace, and feeling very responsible for all the men of her clan who were dieing because of the war. She sat down by a river and started crying about the horrible situation she'd caused, when one of the faery-folk popped up. He felt so bad for her that he wanted to make things right. He told her to wash her broken face in the water for seven seconds and everything would be alright. Not really believing him, but not having anything to lose, she did it, and upon looking at her reflection in the water afterwards she saw that all her wounds were gone and that she was beautiful again. She returned to her husband to fulfill her destiny and stopped the feuding between the clans.

Because of this legend, it is thought that that river on Skye is blessed and if you wash your face in it for seven seconds you will stay young and beautiful forever! The great story and the cold water was the perfect way to wake up, and we were all wide-eyed and ready to go as soon as we got back on the bus.

Our next stop was Duntlum Castle, a ruined castle right on the coast of Skye which was often fought over by the MacLeod and MacDonald clans. Ruaridh told us that in all of Scottish history, no castle has changed hands as often as Duntlum, and finally in order to settle the ownership once and for all they decided to have a boat race, and the first hand to touch land would get the castle. Well, near the end of the race the MacDonalds noticed they were losing and that there was no hope of catching up, so the clan chief ordered one of the rowers to chop off his hand and throw it ashore...and he did! The MacDonalds kept the castle and it was never fought over again. After the castle we headed on and made a few short stops at landmarks like Kilt Rock and the grave of Flora MacDonald, the woman who helped Bonnie Prince Charlie escape from persecution in Scotland.

We had lunch at a nice restaurant connected to a hotel. They have special deals for the Haggis tours because they cart in busloads 2 or 3 times a week. It was a good meal and nice atmosphere, despite the rainy weather outside.

We got back to the hostel just before dinnertime, and I'd had such a big lunch that I forwent dinner in favour of catching up a bit in my journal. After a while I went down to the bar for a drink and a chat and Lauren, Robyn, Isabelle and myself decided that since our escapades from the night before had not ended with us seeing the castle, we should take advantage before it got dark and the tide came in. Armed this time with raincoats, flashlights and no beer (!!) we made our way up to the castle with little difficulty (if you're sober and have light it's very easy!).

We chatted in the ruins for a bit, talking about our homes and how we were enjoying the trip. Soon we were joined by the three Belgian girls from our tour, Loes, Liesbeth and Lies whom we hadn't yet got the chance to know that well. We had originally thought they were too shy to speak to any of us, but we found out that they were really just self-conscious about their English. Once we told them that it was almost flawless, and of all those on the tour who's first language was not English, they spoke best, they opened right up and we had a few laughs.

When the sun started to set we thought it would be a good time to head back, but with the mention of leaving Isabelle said that she hadn't climbed all the way up there without doing a Saucy Mary, and if we had any balls we'd do it too. Well, not being one to back away from a challenge, Lauren and I both agreed to do it with Isabelle. Robyn was keen as well, but the Belgians wouldn't budge. They decided instead to take pictures of us (from the back!!) while we did it. Lauren and I didn't go as far as Robyn and Isabelle, who ripped their shirts clean off, but we did it, to the delight of the fishermen below!

Soon after we headed back down to the hostel to lose our packs in favour of some drinks in the pub across the road. We relayed our activities to the rest of the group who was already there, much to Ruaridh's disappointment as he had offered his services as a photographer for anyone wanting to do the Saucy Mary (which he had wisely not taken him up on!).

The pints flowed throughout the bar and as someone who hadn't had dinner, I was feeling mighty happy when we got back to the hostel! We were expecting then to go to bed, but a local musician was just warming up so we ordered a few more rounds and danced the night away with both traditional Scottish music and oldies pop songs. The Belgians really came out of their shells when the song 500 Miles came up. Apparently there's a dance that goes along with it, and the three of them managed to do it in perfect synch with each other and the music, which of course made us laugh hysterically! Drunk, happy and exhausted, we all made our way to bed after the bar closed at 1 a.m., wanting to be ready for another day of hiking through the highlands!

Day 2 - Oban to Skye

Everyone was up, showered, fed and back on the bus by 8:30 a.m., and Ruaridh took great pleasure in ribbing all those who were remotely late. Robyn and another girl, a Kiwi named Sam, celebrated their birthdays which meant that Ruaridh would have to be nice all day to the two of them. However, when Robyn was the last one on the bus and then had to go back because she forgot a bag, teasing from all of us was simply unavoidable.

Weather-wise, day two was by far the best of the tour, and Ruaridh made sure we took full advantage. We left Oban and made our way further north, but not without a bit of a detour to Ruaridh's parents' house to pick up his golf clubs in case he had time over his three days off following the tour to play a round. To our surprise, we found out that he used to live in full view of a really cool landmark: the castle that is stormed at the end of Monty Python and the Holy Grayle! It was obviously not a big deal to him since he'd seen it pretty well every day while he was growing up, but being the annoying tourists that we are, we made him stop so we could get a snapshot.

Back on our way, we drove through the countryside, listening to Ruaridh tell more stories of Scottish clans and legends. His knowledge of the land's history was really astounding. He showed us Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in Scotland, and then took us to the Three Sisters, a chain of inviting-looking mountains. We took a couple of photographs and were about to get back on the bus when Ruaridh informed us that we would be earning our lunch today by climbing one of them! There was apparently a rough trail going a fair ways up the mountainside, and after everyone filled their packs with everything they'd need, we were off. The climb took 2 to 2 1/2 hours and was one of the most physically exhausting things I've ever done. Ruaridh's pace was faster than I'm sure many of us were used to and a few people, mainly 2 of the 3 Spanish girls (Vanessa and Pila) looked as though they'd bitten off more than they could chew with the tour in general. In place of hiking boots and water bottles they had high heels and hair straighteners. They meant well though, and were as sweet as can be. Lucia, the only one of the three who decided to do the climb, did it in a pair of very stylish though highly impractical ballet-type shoes. I took my hat off to her; she did Spain proud, even if the others didn't!

The views from the mountain were spectacular, and I'm not even sure my pictures will do them justice, so I won't even bother trying to describe them here. I didn't know it then, but getting to the top of that mountain was the precise moment I fell absolutely head-over-heals in love with Scotland.

After making our way back down to the bus, Ruaridh drove us to a supermarket to get our well-deserved lunch. He took us to a park at the base of Ben Nevis where we could lie in the sun, relax and enjoy our meal. The sun was so hot we almost felt like joining the locals for a swim in a near-by stream, but decided instead to all lay back and have a short nap in the shade. Robyn, on her way back from a walk remarked that it looked like a battlefield with all our exhausted bodies strewn about! Ruaridh came along and collected us all after a while and herded us back onto the bus to continue the tour.

At this point Lauren and I noticed that we hadn't had a bathroom break since we'd left the hostel that morning, so we asked if we would be able to stop somewhere before we continued on our way through the mountains. Well, that was a mistake! Apparently in Scotland all the supermarkets have public toilets in them. Not having that in Canada and not being told of the situation here, we hadn't gone. Luckily, once we brought it up a couple other people piped up saying they hadn't known about it either, so he had to stop. However, for the rest of the trip, every time we stopped for groceries, Ruaridh would shoot a look and a grin in Lauren's and my direction and would remind us that we could use the bathroom there as well, if needed!

That afternoon we made our way up to Eileen Donan Castle, the most photographed castle in Scotland. Before that, however, we were given a tour of Glencoe, the most beautiful region of the highlands and the site of many feature films. Braveheart, Harry Potter, Highlander and countess others were all filmed in the mountains, glens and lochs of the region. We were told the story of the Five Sisters and the well of the Seven Heads, both of which included the faery folk, a people Ruaridh best described as being "Scottish leprechauns." They were all great stories, and whether they ended with a laugh or not, there was always a moral to be found.

Eileen Donan Castle was a beautifully restored castle which is still the home of the MacRae family, who have owned it for a few hundred years. It seemed to be a large shrine to the family and their friends, and almost crossed the line between proud and conceited. Still beautiful though.

Finally we made it out to the Isle of Skye, where we would be spending 2 nights in a hostel by the name of Saucy Mary's. This hostel got its name from a local legend in Kyleakin, a small fishing village just across the bridge on Skye. Apparently, as legend goes, the ruined castle (not a ten minute walk from the hostel) was once owned by a Viking king and his wife Mary. The king owned a ferry which was the only way to get between the Isle and the mainland. Having a monopoly on this important service, he was able to charge exorbitant amounts (a practice which is still done today with a 41£ charge for the bus to cross the bridge). Mary, however, felt sorry for all the men who had to pay the toll to get back and forth, so as they made their way across she would run up to the top of the castle and would flash her breasts out to the sea for all the men to enjoy. For this activity she acquired the nickname "Saucy Mary," and it has now become a favourite activity for tourists who have been told the legend, especially for those staying at Saucy Mary's. But more on that later (*wink wink*)

Saucy Mary's is part hostel, part public watering-hole, so we quickly dropped our stuff in the rooms and headed down to the pub for a pint and a meal and a game or two of pool. Isabelle, Lauren and I were in a room of our own, which was nice as we all got along really well and wouldn't be disturbing anyone if we decided to come in late.

Dinner and cake for the birthday girls was done in the bar, and then we headed across the road to the only other bar in Kyleakin to enjoy the live music they had playing that night. Word got round at the bar that Ruaridh was going to take all those who wanted to go up to the castle with some beer for a bit of a party, and after a small fiasco with people being picky about their drinks (BEER people, it's not that hard!!), we headed out in the dark. Now you would think that even our tour guide would be sober enough to remember to bring a flashlight when taking a bunch of drunk tourists to a castle in a place we've never been before, but no. We managed to make do with the LCD screens of a couple of cell phones and my digital camera which gave off some light. Paul slipped once on a wet rock, but got up quickly and declared rather drunkenly "I'm....ok.."

Halfway up to the castle, however, we hit a snag. It seems they'd had a lot of rain in Skye the few days previous and the tide along the beach had come up higher than usual, blocking our way up to the castle. We'd already paid for our beer though, and were in full gear for a party, so we sat and drank on the beach instead. Another dark and drunken walk back to the main road and we fell into bed, looking forward to our tour of Skye the next day.

August 13, 2004

Day 11 - Lake District

Well, we're back from our 6-day tour of the highlands and if I were to fill a hundred journals it wouldn't be enough to describe the beauty the Scottish Highlands have to offer. I'll start from the first day and move forward until the train I'm currently on arrives in Oxenholm.

HAGGIS BUS TOUR

Day 1 - Edinburgh to Oban

We started off with an early and rather brutal morning in Edinburgh. After our rampage through the Grass Market the night before, 6:00 a.m. came mighty early, and I have a feeling I was still drunk until we were on the road to Oban by about 9. Lauren and I met our tour on the Royal Mile. Ruaridh, our quite attractive tour guide, herded us all onto our big (and brand new!) yellow bus. Ruaridh was a great guy and a true Scotsman. No sympathy for anyone who complained, and a wit as sharp as an axe. He would take every opportunity possible to take the piss out of the nearest target, but always did it with a joking smile and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. I don't think we could have had a better guide. He was so knowledgeable about the history of the land we were traveling through, and I very much enjoyed our moments spent sitting on the bus hearing stories about great warriors, battles and clans in his soft and engaging Scottish brogue. I think of all the Scots I've met so far I'll miss him the most.

Our fist stop was the William Wallace monument, the second largest monument in the world dedicated to a single person (the Taj Mahal is the biggest). Ruaridh told us the story of William Wallace and his heroic, though often brutal ways of fighting the British (skinning a man ALIVE?! That's just disgusting...). It was a small walk up to the monument (if I'd written on that day I may have said a long walk, but I've thought better of that now. You'll see :D). We walked around it for about half an hour, taking pictures and gathering a souvenir or two in the nice sunny weather before heading back down to the bus.

Lunch was had in a small town a little ways outside Oban. Ruaridh stopped at a Safeway so we could get groceries and then we sat in the village by a waterfall and ate. A small drama ensued when a pair of young boys, who's parents were enjoying lunch in a nearby pub, started playing on the rocks. One fell into the water, and was getting swept downstream. The current wasn't strong and the water wasn't deep, but panic can be fatal to a small child and Robyn, Lauren and Mike, the first ones who heard the scream, dashed over and pulled the shaken child out of the water. The rest of us concerned ourselves with his slightly older brother, who had made it safely to the other side of the rocks, but was now too scared from his brother's fall to make the leap back. After some coaxing and an outstretched hand he made it safely across and both children were returned to their surprisingly unworried parents virtually unscathed. This was the first of many activities which bonded us into such a tight-knit group; all of whom I will surely miss.

Back on the bus, we (Lauren, me, Robyn, Mike, Fabio, 'A', and Isabelle) told Ruaridh and the others our tale as we continued on the road to Oban. Our next stop was a special treat Ruaridh had planned: a shinty game (sort of a cross between field hockey and UK football) between the locals and what the Guinness Book of World Records has called "the most successful sports team in the world." This team has apparently had more victories than any team in any sport anywhere in the world, and their skill was highly apparent at this game which, obviously, they won. It was really great to see a real Scottish sport, and was a really good way to rest away the hang-over!

Next was a trip to the beach in Oban. The weather was far too nice to sit on the bus and drive around, and we were in need of some activity after sitting around watching the shinty game, so Ruaridh got out a child's cricket set and a Frisbee and let us run wild in the sand. Lauren and I had never played cricket before, though what we wound up playing was a sort of skewed version of the real game. We found is was a lot like softball, and thus excelled rather well for a first try. A young local boy who was full of beans and had quite a mouth on him asked if he could join us, and we had great fun laughing at him every time he tried to hog the cricket bat. His first turn had lasted so long that if the rest of us wanted a try, he couldn't have another until we were done. Half the fun was trying to beat him to the bat! We left him after about an hour and a half, all of us with smiles on our faces. He waved goodbye to us from the beach as we drove past him on the bus, looking like the little angel he certainly was not!

Oban is a beautiful sea-front town. Ruaridh actually grew up not to far from there and would be going to a birthday party for one of his high school mates while we spent the night in town. Wanting to save money on dinner, we walked over to the local supermarket and about 11 of the 19 of us split the grocery bill for a nice dinner of pasta with three sauces, salad, chicken and even wine. We got back to the hostel and cooked up a storm, getting to know each other along the way. We were all quite impressed at how people who hardly knew each other could work so well as a team, especially with difficulties such as language barriers to break through. The meal was great and the company even better. Isabelle, a French-Canadian from Montreal was a great treat to have with us to share stories of home. The other large group of us were Aussies (five in total) and I found it really neat to learn about life on the other side of the world. Fabio taught us about Italy and Pilla, Lucia and even Vanessa who hardly spoke a word of English, were anxious to teach us about Spain.

After dinner we headed out to the pub where we met up with Ruaridh and his mates for a bit before they left. A couple of pints later we were full and satisfied and took a leisurely walk back to the hostel to explore the town at night before heading off to sleep.

August 9, 2004

Day 6 - Bus Tour to Isle of Skye

MacCurdy's Island Experience - "Life is like the wind: it's not there if there isn't any

544 p.m. (local time)

Alright, so I'm a bit behind on the journal entries. Funnily enough, all the fun started just AFTER my last entry, so I've got lots to tell. We went down to the bar that night and just had an absolute blast meeting people and learning about their various cultures. We started off talking to three Irish girls who had come over to Scotland for a short holiday. They'd gone to see the city during the day, were planning to party all night and then get back up the next morning and go home. Must be nice to be able to take a day-trip to Scotland (!!), although I'm sure they think the same thing about us and the United States. That night we also met four American girls who were taking a small break from their studies at Sterling University in Brighton, England. Apparently the program they're in is designed to allow them time to travel around the UK as well as study in their chosen field. They were very nice and after a pleasant conversation and a pint we decided it might be fun to see the city together as they also had only just arrived.

Another group we met was of three Italian boys, which I must say, fit EVERY stereotype I've ever heard of how Italian boys behave. Their accents were priceless, being hardly able to scrape a few words together in English, but they were very nice and gentlemanly, not to mention highly entertaining. We got to bed at a fairly decent hour so that we would have as much of the next day as possible to tour the city.

The next morning only two of the four Americans showed up downstairs for breakfast. Adrianne and Daniella had decided they didn't feel well and were going to stick around the hostel for the day. Nicole and Jenny, the two that did show up, didn't seem at all surprised that they weren't coming out, saying that the four of them had vacationed together before and they hadn't really gotten along too well on the road. One would wonder why they would travel together again if it hadn't worked out so well the first time, but it seemed like a long and complicated situation, and quite frankly I didn't care enough to hear it.

Anyway, the four of us decided to head out without the other two, and we headed back to the Royal Mile. We started out at the Palace of Holyroodhouse, the Queen's residence in Scotland. It is a gorgeous building, and not as astronomically expensive as Edinburgh Castle, so we decided that a tour was worth it. We got audio boxes and headsets and walked around the rooms, inside and out of the castle, learning all about the Scottish and English history that accompanies the building and its artifacts. I took tons of pictures to say the least. After that we walked the Mile again, this time going into a few shops to satisfy the Americans' constant need to buy things. Not sure what it is, but they tend to value material things more than we do. I walked out of there at the end of the day with a shot glass with the Harrison clan crest and motto on it (who knew I had Scottish heritage!) and a few postcards and that suited me just fine.

At the other end of the Mile is Edinburgh Castle, which we walked the grounds of again to please the Americans who had yet to see anything of the city. We ate lunch at a famous pub called The World's End, and after that we headed off the Mile and onto Princes Street which houses more shops and tourist attractions. After almost eight solid hours of walking the city's streets we decided it was time for dinner and a pint so we caught the shuttle back to the hostel to relax for the evening. Noble intentions they were but the end result wound up being quite different. Nicole and Jenny were adamant about wanting to go back downtown to the Hard Rock Café for dinner, but Lauren and I surely didn't travel six hours by plane to eat at a crappy American restaurant that we have at home, so we bid them farewell after that.

We headed down to the canteen at the hostel and purchased our cheapest meal yet: a McCain microwave pizza for 1£ each. After that we decided that another night in the hostel pub was unacceptable as Edinburgh is known for being just as beautiful at night as it is during the day. We got dressed up, grabbed our cameras and hopped back on the shuttle to go back to the city. On the way we met another Canadian who was staying at the hostel, whom I came to know only as "Saskatchewan." He told me his real name (Bret, I think), but we were so proud to have met someone from home that we wanted to refer to it as much as possible. He had been traveling in Scotland for a few months already, and had even acquired a Scottish tint to his Canadian accent, which to most Americans sounds Scottish enough already.

Anyway, he had also met from Americans from Sterling U and had decided it was time to paint the town red. Lauren and I decided to abandon our plan of photographing the castle, going for a walk and getting an early night in preparation for the Haggis tour the next day, and join them. Sask., like ourselves, found the Americans to be very nice people, but with far different priorities from Canadians and horribly ignorant about the place they were visiting. As soon as we joined the crowd, however, a rivalry ensued as to who were the best drinkers, Canada or the US, and a mighty good pub crawl began.

We started at a place with live music, but left after a fight broke out, which sort of spoiled the good vibe it had going on. After that we decided it was time to head down to the Grass Market, where Edinburgh nightlife is best, and went into a club which was offering free shots with every pint. The shot was a strawberry-and-cream type deal, and was surprisingly good despite the baby-pink colour (not the kind of shot one would think to find in a whiskey-loving country!). We also had a pint there and left soon after when we noticed our company was predominantly males who seemed much more interested in each other than us five girls walking around the bar in shorts and short skirts.

The next pub was in a more traditional style, called The Last Drop, so named because of the gallows which at one point stood near-by. More shots were passed around and we met a Brit, a Scot and an Australian who were all involved in the Military Tattoo which was going on at Edinburgh Castle during the festival. Finally we wound up at a Russian-style dance-club that had four floors plus and dance floor which the American girls and Lauren were very excited about, and me and the boys could care less for. We went and drank some more, which was probably a bad idea since we were pretty shit-faced (a Scottish expression in origin!) by then anyway! Lauren and I finally decided it was time to go by about 1 a.m., knowing that we had to get up at 6 a.m. to be back downtown for the tour the next morning. We cabbed our way back to the hostel, being far to drunk to find our way back to Waverly Bridge, and collapsed in our beds for what was really more of a detox than an actual sleep.