day 6 - march 21, 2009

Hostel breakfast.
The croissants out of that cardboard box were the best part.

I was really excited for our Scottish Highlands tour. Anyone that has read "Outlander" will understand why. We signed up for a tour with MacBackpackers called the Loch Ness Weekender. In advance of telling you all about our tour I will say that if you're ever looking for a tour of Scotland or a hostel to stay at USE MACBACKPACKERS. I'm not usually one for organised tours, but this was the BEST TOUR EVER.

Now, let's get on to why.

Firstly, we lucked out with our tour guide. His name was (and still is, I imagine) Graeme and he was dressed in Anderson tartan--my family on my Grandma's side are Andersons, so I took this to be a good sign. Graeme is a natural storyteller and he told us compelling tales of the Highlands with genuine passion and love for his history. He could convince the most English Englishman to spurn his heritage, strap on a kilt and dive headfirst into Loch Ness. But more on that later.

Our first stop on the tour was St. Andrew's, on the eastern coast of Scotland. St. Andrew's is the location of the oldest university in Scotland, is apparently the birth place of golf and has a beautiful ruined cathedral dating back to the 1300s.
We stayed just long enough to check out the graveyard (one of my favourite sites to check out whilst traveling), walk along the shore and appreciate that Scotland was welcoming us with a sunny, lovely day.

Back on the bus.

Next stop, Pitlochry for a quick lunch and mailing postcards. (Irish postcards, but nevermind!)

Kp had a crush on the mailboxes. No wonder. (They are just her size!)

We only saw about 1.5 blocks of Pitlochry, but what we did see only added to our suspicions that we might just LOVE Scotland.

Back on the bus.

Once we left Pitlochry, the landscape began to change. We crossed into the Highlands and drove through the Pass of Killicrankie. Graeme told us the story of the battle there between the Jacobites (the Highlanders) and the government (the English) but I'm not going to embarrass myself by trying to recount the particulars. Take the tour and listen for yourself.

At the start of our tour, kp and Tori and I were joking around and generally being the loudest (and clearly the most fun) on the bus. But, as we came into the highlands, we got quiet. I got goosebumps as the highlands opened up before us. The hills and the texture of the landscape were more striking than I could have imagined and I felt like my eyes couldn't look long enough or fast enough to take it all in.

Our next stop was Culloden. I knew a little bit about the battle of Culloden, but knowing a bit about it was nothing compared to looking at it while hearing a real, live Highlander tell you the story. We pulled into the parking lot at Culloden and Graeme told us the story of the Jacobite rising and the slaughter of the Highlanders on the field at Culloden as if it had happened last week rather than in 1746. My goosebumps got goosebumps and stepping out onto the field gave me a lump in my throat.
So many wars are fought over religion, and this one was no exception. Although it is easy to write this battle off as Scottish versus English, really it was Catholic versus Protestant for control over the country. It is heart-wrenching to think how close Bonnie Prince Charlie was to winning the throne--if only he had pressed on to take London rather than retreating, or if only there hadn't been a miscommunication with the French. I wonder how that would have affected Scotland, England, the world, even. Maybe it wouldn't have made an enormous difference in the grand scheme of things, but I would love to see how the UK would be different if it were run by Scots.

Back on the bus.

We left Culloden behind and headed to Loch Ness. I didn't realise that Loch Ness would be so enormous. The water is an unfriendly dark silver and the waves sort of slide one behind the next. Looking at it, you can completely understand why people would believe that there is a creature lurking in its depths. Although kp and I had already decided we weren't going to swim in Loch Ness, Graeme was able to peer pressure us into doing it. He used an age-old tactic of "when ye've got yer wee laddie on yer knee and he asks ye about Loch Ness, are ye gonna say 'aye, I've seen it' or are ye gonna say 'AYE, I'VE SWAM IN IT'????" Plus, we had developed just the tiniest bit of a crush by now and the Scottish accent weakened our resolve.
What were we thinking? Well, the answer is clear: we weren't. We didn't get any photos of us IN the Loch, but here's one I stole from our fellow Canadian on the tour, the lovely Claire:
We didn't bring our bathing suits, so that's Tori and kp in their pyjamas and me in my green underwear and striped knee socks. Claire is on the far right and Jeff (an Aussie lad) is beside her, sensibly wearing bathing trunks. YES it was cold, NO we didn't see Nessie and YES I would do it again (except I'd probably wait until mid-summer or thereafter). See how my little fists are clenched in preparation? I was preparing for SPEED. The bottom was all rocks: slimy, green, algae covered rocks, which I tried to run over as fast as possible so I could get into the water before my body went numb. Embarassingly, I screamed the entire time like a little girl. That is, until kp tried to drown me and I threw out my back. That stopped the screaming momentarily.

That's me and kp coming out of the water on the left-hand side there. I'm holding her hand because I don't know yet that she has broken me, since I can't feel my back due to numbness as a result of the cold, cold, very cold water. In all honesty, I couldn't feel my feet. I have never felt that before and it was a real marvel to be walking around on a body part I could not feel. Although I've never been so cold, I would say you HAVE to swim in Loch Ness if you ever get the chance. My only regret was that I didn't pause the screaming and take a half-second to appreciate that I was actually IN the water. So do me a favour and savour it for a second, then get the hell out of there.

Back on the bus.

Shivering, we headed to Inverness, the only city in the Highlands. Our hostel for the night was clean, cozy and fairly quiet and at the top of the hill near the relatively new castle.

This is me trying to stretch out my Loch Ness injury in our hostel.
Kp compassionately took a photo.

We headed into the city with a crew of people from the tour. The street we walked along led down to the water. It was cobblestoned, but not in an Irish way. Inverness felt more stately and solid as opposed to the cozy cramp of Dublin's streets. Less dashed together than Dublin, maybe. In any case, we ate lovely Thai food (yes, Thai) and drank lovely organic beer that tasted a bit of heather at a place called Hootenany's. There was live music upstairs and downstairs. We tried upstairs first.

Tori didn't like it.

Downstairs, there was a 3-piece blues band called the High Lonesome that kp and I just LOVED. The rest of our tour pals didn't love them as much and left before their last set, but kp and I stayed. Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was their harmonies, but either way, we became big fans real fast.

***I'm going to put in a video of one of their songs HERE... but I didn't have the patience to wait for it to load before going to bed. But I'll do it. Promise.

We befriended a little lady who loved the music as much as we did. She was fiestier than us, and pulled us on to the dance floor even though no one else was dancing there. We didn't mind. We were fuelled by pints at that point. Here's us with a couple of members of the band and our new li'l pal.
I think kp and I have that expression on our faces for two reasons:

1. beer.
2. our li'l pal just said something very racy about taking all of the band members home and what she would like to do to them once they're there. they don't seem to mind.

We closed the pub (meaning, we were still there when they were trying to close so we got kicked out) and went out onto the streets in search of a payphone. It had rained so the streets were wet and shiny and the city looked fantastic. I called Neil to wish him a happy anniversary and he said "oh, right! I forgot!" but I didn't mind because I was drunk and in Scotland.
While I was on the phone, kp took photos of a seagull. Here's the best one:

Whoops, kp! You've been drinking!

We stopped some fellow drunken young people on the street to get directions to the nearest chip shop and then ate the most delicious chips and coleslaw. On the way back kp pissed in an alleyway (but didn't get any on herself! A+!) and we made it back to the hostel safe and sound. We crawled (as) quietly (as possible) into our bunks and dreamed dreams of heather flavoured beer and Scottish harmonies.