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!