Day Six--Over the sea we'll go to the Hebrides

As I was unable to post this yesterday, this is post-dated for Tuesday, September 4, 2007. Pictures to post later.
I stopped counting Land Rovers days ago. there are so many here. And rightly so. If you need on e anywhere, this is the place. the Defender is Dave's favorite, so he's been eyeing every unusual one he's nver seen in America--like the truck style Defender that has a hard top you can attach on the truck bed to make it into an SUV. Today after check out we headed north towards Uig on the Totternish peninsular--our last stop until catching the ferry for the Hebrides at 5:30 pm. We wished well to our fine hostess, Anne Houston, at Toravaig house and decided to make our first stop an art exhibition by Glasgow artist Pam Carter just up the road. Her work is superb and she really has a way of using oil paints to draw out the beauty of a place. They are pricey by our standards--those being Americans with a declining dollar--but I'm sure for natives or Europeans they are well priced. One painting cuaght my eye of a dark foreboding sky and glowing white traditional homes in the foreground. It's a scene repeated here often when the sun comes out to bless a small bit of land with its rays while darkness looms all around. It's a magical moment and she caught it so well. This got us talking with the art gallery owners about the tradition of the white houses here. It seems that in the oldest days of these homes, the paint was made of a mixture of lyme and water, giving off a milky appearance. Later innovations introduced sand into the mix which provided Scots with a more durable exterior against the elements. Now, of course, there are a plethora of synthetic paints available to the consumer, the hardiest of which are used on the lighthouses (for obvious reasons). After we had been back on the road for a while we stopped for petrol and bought 2 CDs for our further journeys. One CD was a compilation of flook music, very popular right now. The other was by Scot singer Kate Rusby entitled "Little Lights". Kate's CD is a real stunner and just perfect as our day's accomaniment. It's a gray day today, the air full of sky. The name "Skye" atually means "Isle of Mist", and on days as today one reckons it was rightly named. The air is thick and wet and there is no difference between the sky and the air. Today there is only a thich veil drawn over all of this island. It's as if the sea is picked up and dispersed in the air. So when we drive north out of Portree towards the Old Man of Storr (which in old Norse means "big" or "great")--a very unusual rock formation--it was cloaked in a misty fog. Missing it, and not wanting to venture through the wet fog to find it, we decided to pass it by. The sea came out before us on our right as we moved north towards the Quirang. Dave commented that he's never liked the sea so much, being that it seems so uncertain, so vast, so indefineable. He said he'd learn to sail just to conquer it, which seemed like a very masculine comment. Mastery of nature, or nature will master you? Indeed it is immense, for its sheer distance alone is enough to send the mind into thoughts of isolation, emptiness and Kantian awe. But its depth is the most terrifying to me. The true last frontier, excepting other galaxies. So deep that the tallest mountains in the world lie in the deep mountian range between North America and Europe. I look out and see a terrifying immense abyss. I don't think I could stomach being a sailor. With this racing through my mind we reached the look out for point for Kilt Rock. We stopped for pics. It's a rock formation that looks like the ripples in a kilt. Quick pics and we're off to find a bathroom. We stopped in Staffin (a small village where there are dinosaur fossiles) at a convenient store/restaurant/community hall. Almost every village has a community hall. It's where they meet to discuss, as well as have their dances. Then we headed towards the Quirang, one of the most dramatic areas of geological formations on Skye. In Gaelic Auriang means "round fold or pen" and comes from quoyrand or kvirand--an old Norse word. It was created by a succession of the largest landslides in Britain. According to a tourist guide, "Huge blocks of rock slippd down-slope when Jurassic sediments buckled under the weight of the basalt plateau which lies above." It is visually stunning and makes for great photos...when you can see it. Today its hidden. My plan had been to hike it as far as "the Needle" formation or "the Prison".But with the Skye spitting on us and winds pushing every which way, we decided against it. instead, we drove up to the car park and took pictures when the clouds parted enough to grab some pictures of "the Needle". Then we turned around and headed to Flodigarry to visit Flodigarry Country house hotel where we had (a terrible) lunch.I wouldn't advise this place for food--only for tea in their drawing room. The food was terrible and overpriced. It was the first bad meal we've had since we arrived. While lunching i got back into The Road North--in particular the Alexander Smith excerpt on Skye. It was very amusing to see what another traveller's impresions were of the place over 100 years ago. It's been a great companion book on our journey. Dave picked up The Financial Times earlier in the day and pulled it out to read. After warming up a bit we headed off north to make the journey complete to Uig. On the way we passed Duntulm castle, which lies in ruins on land which had once served as an iron age broch, a Pictish fort and Viking stronghold The MacLeods and MacDonalds each had their turns at the castle before it fell into disuse. Just before we had arrived a tour bus unloaded at the site, and because of rain and my not wanting to trapse up with 30ish other people or so, we decided to keep on in the car to Uig. Caledonian MacBrayne has the ferry monopoly around here, so we headed onto their gigantic ship, left the car in the hull and headed up top the shop for tea in the cafeteria. Back in Portree I had picked up some sea sickness medicine, remembering two previous "cruises" when i was fairly green the whole of the journey. Two hours passed uneventful as Dave and I read. We came up upon Harris around 7:40pm and with the deep fog clinging to the sea there suddenly emerged very green patches of earth spotting rocky outcroppings. It was a treeless earth made of small hills and little islands.I couldn't help but think of the hardiness of the people who live here. It reminded me alot of the film The Shipping News, which takes place, for the most part, in New Foundland (populated in most part by Scot and Irish immigrants). A rugged hardy people to match such a place, where it seems the wind must howl over the land and the people fight for their right to live there. After disembarking we headed north out of North Harris towards Lewis. Tonight our journey was to end at Planasker Old School Bed and Breakfast in Marbig on Lewis. The drive was difficult as the fog was so thick we couldn't see the road out in front of us until we reached Lewis. From there our partly revealed guest began to show itself as an other wordly landscape of big rocks and earth clinging to them. We were later to find out that part of the 2001 Space Odyssey movie was filmed in this lunar landscape on the east of the island. We drove into what seemed like the farthest reaches of the world as we made the approach to Planasker. Our journey ended at the head of the loch in front of Planasker.We stepped inside for a delicious homemade late supper and then tucked ourselves in bed for the evening. Today's journey had seemed like the longest. But this land held great possibility for discovery.

Day Four (I think)--Into the Hills

I am not able to write every day, so this post is post-dated for Sunday, September 2, 2007. Pictures to follow later.
So last night after dinner we conversed with the other guests to Torvaig House in the drawing room. It was wonderfully intimate, and we chatted with a German couple and Dutch couple until after midnight. The conversation was lively and enjoyable and reminded me of one of the things I've always liked about Europe--diversity. People from different countries are so diverse and each have different ideas about how life should be lived and how things should be done. It can be amusing and insightful to gather together. We had a great chat about immigration in our perspective countries, the spending habits of Americans and different western Europeans. The young German woman was studying goldsmithing, so we had lots to discuss in terms of jewelry design, being that is my chosen profession, as well. It was comraderie and connection, a truly international evening. There was talk of BMW motorcyles and Harleys. Both the German woman and the Dutch couple drove Harleys. In fact, the Dutch couple brought their Harley's over from Belgium and have been touring on them through Scotland. My husband drives a BMW. He was envious of their motorcyle journey, hoping we'll follow suit one day. So there was fun banter about which bike was really the better on long distance drives. One of them noted that if it's raining you'll only see BMW drivers. That's true. They are pretty hard core. So, because of this delightful (but late) evening, we slept in until 10:30am. We rushed downstairs to grab breakfast before shoving off towards MacLeod's Table--a mountain we were intent on summiting on the western side of Skye.MacLeod is a very common name in Skye. In fact, the two main clans here historically were the waring MacLeods and MacDonalds. Almost every native on the island is ancestorally linked to one or the other. The clans seemed to live in continual conflict (like most clans)--each one always seeking revenge for a previous wrong done to them by the other. It probably wasn't until the feudal clan system was officially done away with that peaceableness came between the clans. Now I'm not sure if people here know who is of whose blood, as they are probably fairly mixed these days. Unless, of course, their name is MacLeod or MacDonald. So anyway, back to our day's journey. We were off to MacLeod's Table, but on the way we took in the sights--including a very amusing Walking and Wellies named outdoor gear store which also had on their sign that they carried lingerie. Hmmm....any ideas about that one? We gave it a nice chuckle. The sun was out today in full force, a rarity here. So we took full advantage and made a stop at Dun Beag Broch--an Iron Age broch, or fort.Supposedly, no one really knows why ancient peoples here built brochs. Although, one theory is that they were used as fire beacons warning others of approaching foreign vessels and invaders. These were supposed to still be in use when the Norsemen began their Hebridean raids here. Interesting more the less. There is just the circular ground enclosure left, with a small stone fort facade built up around the edges. it's high up on a hill with great views to the sea and lochs and mountains around. Nowadays only sheep use it. Mainly as a toilet.But I digress...Heading back to the car we noticed that the heather and ferns in theis part of Skye grow very near the ground to survive. This land here is very wind swept, or it seems to be, at least. I can't imagine the savagery of winter here! There are no great trees in these parts, and the heather takes on a thicker, bunchier appearance quite unlike the longer heather in the Highlands. But it's a hardy plant--I'll give it that! So, MacLeod's Table--next stop. In the Skye mythology, MacLeod's Table got it's name from a MacLeod chief who decided he needed a really big banquet table and couldn't find ones so decided to spread a table cloth over the mountain top and place torch bearers all around, making it the largest banqueting table ever know. Being mythology, we can doubt this ever happened, but none the less, MacLeod's Table stuck as the mountain's name. Actually, there are 2 flat-topped mountains called MacLeod's Table--Healabhal Meag and Healabhal Mor. We climbed the wider of the two--Healabhal Beag. Our hotel receptionist was kind enough to lend us her totgraphical map of the area--as we had no official hiking trails booklets. Dave, being quite the mountaineer and pathfinder, figured a way to the top by initially following a shep trail--which came and went the further we got on . Let it be known: There is no REAL trail. You make it up as you go along. So be forewarned. The trail was wet, or maybe I should say soggy. The gound is like a sponge and with every step you sink a little. The trick is to miss the real bogs--or holes in the ground filled with water--usually hidden by overgrown grasses. I stepped in four. Let's just say my shoes were soaked by the end. If you choose to hike in Scotland, he prepared (or, more prepared than we were) and wear VERY waterproof boots or wellies.
It was quite a fun climb, none the less. Most of it was moderate, becoming steeper towards the end. I was just so happy to reach the top and enjoy the enormous views from 488 meters (that's 1,601 feet from sea level for the metrically challenged). The top was flat--I mean FLAT--and grassy.Oh, and VERY boggy. In fact, two of my "feet wettings" happened up there. When we topped the Table the winds nearly blew us over. Now I understand why the top is flat!We enjoyed cheese and HobNobs (a British sweet oat biscuit) and watched the clouds roll in over the sea and lochs. We could see the whole of Skye from up there. Looking out towards the town of Dunvegan (our next stop) we watched a rainbow appear and disappear many times before presenting us with a magical double rainbow. It was a nice end to the climb. But I was tired and ready to get down. It had taken us two hours to summit, and I wanted us to descend in much less time. So, like a horse to the barn, we scurried down the mountain and found our way back to our car, parked on the road side next to an open gate we used to enter the land at the foot of the Table. Tired, we dragged ourselves to Dunvegan Castle--my "must stop" for the day.Although, I have to say, a real let down. It's not really worth a stop (in my opinion). I think it's better photographed than toured. But it's worth mentioning it's historical significance. It's the ancestral home of the Clan MacLeod and is said to be one of the oldest inhabited castles in Scotland. A wing of the castle is still occupied by the Hugh Magnus MacLeod family (he's the current Chief of Clan MacLeod). It has an interesting gardens and a lovely view of the sea and isles. But the tour was uneventful. Well, there were some Raeburn paintings worthy of a look, but most of the house was tired and worn. Well, the dungeon might be a poll for some. Anyway, we left there even more exhausted and headed to our hotel about an hour to the southeast. We arrived in time for good hot baths, some pre-dinner drinks (whiskey, thank you!) and our delicious 4 course meal--after which no food was left on the plate. We took after dinner coffee in the lounge once more and had another lovely chat with the Dutch couple and headed off to bed. Another very late night. But more on that tomorrow...

Day Three--Over the Bridge to Skye

This morning after breakfast we headed off again back over Loch Linnhe on the ferry to make our journey to Skye. Technically there are two ways to get to Skye from Strontian, but we chose to retrace our steps back over the ferry, towards Fort William and then over land and "over the bridge to Skye". We went this way partly because I wanted to see the Eileen Donan castle along the route to the Skye bridge, and partly, on my part, because I didn't want to drive those single lane roads again going in the opposite direction. My nerves just couldn't take it this morning. In the ferry que we noticed so many people smoking. Maybe I just don't notice it in America, but I'm appauled by how many Scots smoke. It's a filthy habit and we notice that most people who smoke look older than they are, mainly because their hair is brittle, teeth yellow, and face ashen and dull in color. But enough ranting. Dismissing the smokers we were again taken with the raw beauty of the place--and how beautiful all the white washed houses are against their muted background. They glow, and I think it's one of my favorite things about Scotland--the white houses and towering mountains around them.They always look clean and new. Another thing we were remined of after just a couple of days here: That Scots are much more friendly than English people. Of course, there are always exceptions, but both of us have lived in England and have found the English wanting in kindness and hospitality. The Scots, on the other hand, have always proves enjoyable and gracious. And this was just confirmed again to us during our stay at Kilcamb where there were alot of English visitors, as well as in the ferry que, where the Brits were just tacky to us. But alas, I digress. We stopped in Fort William--the biggest town in the Highlands--for Dave to get some hard-to-find whiskeys. From there we headed up north and then west towards the Skye bridge, stopping only for a peek at Eileen Donan castle near Dornie. It's been made famous as the most photographed castle in Scotland, as well as the castle used in the film The Highlander and most recently in Elizabeth: The Golden Age. On an island in Loch Duich, the castle is accessible by a bridge. Originally built in the 13th century, it was fully destroyed in the mid-1700s and lay in ruin until a member of Clan MacRae bought it and restored it to be a family home where they lived until the 1980s. Anyway, the really interesting part about the castle is that it was originally built during a time of intense feuding between clans. Most castles in the west of Scotland were built near the ocean or lochs in strategic positions which would aid the ruling party in a given area against invading hords. They were usually placed on promitories which allowed full view of all those ships coming and going through the lochs and sea. Even foreign ships trafficked these waters, as evidenced in a Spanish ship being sunk in a storm off the coast of the Ardamurchan peninsular near the mouth of a loch (sunk with Spanish gold on board and never recovered). And of course, before that, there were the Vikings. But again I digress. So, after departing Eileen Donan we decided to head over the bridge and to Skye. We had meant to make it to Plockton to takes some pics and tour around, given that Plockton is the back drop of the BBC show Hamish MacBeth, but alas we were starving and not willing to make the extra trip without food first. Starving, and 3:00pm, we stopped off the main A87 road into Skye and ate at a lovely restaurant named Alba, after the dark haired highland cattle from Skye.They had the freshest, most delicious food I think we've had, to date. In fact, it's my favorite kind of good: inexpensive home cooking that knocks the socks off overpriced uneventful gourmet food. Not to mention it's just plain comforting comfort food. i started with a Gaelic coffee, which is--for all of you who've never had one--a delicious concoction of full cream, whiskey and coffee (and sugar, of course). It was the best Gaelic coffee I've had since Lough Inach Lodge in Connemara, Ireland. Dave had Talisker whiskey neat. Talisker is the only whiskey distillery on Skye, and also one of Dave and I's favorite (very convenient). We hope to make it to their distillery on Monday or Tuesday. So back to Alba. For our appetizer we had the Scottish Broth--not like the canned Campbell's soup version--but a real, thick delicious soup of barley (a Scottish staple), lamb, veggies, and broth. It reminded me of the soup a dear Scot friend made for me when I was in high school, home sick with mononeucleosis. It was comfort food then, and it's comfort food now. After devouring the soup between us, Dave had the freshest fish and chips I've ever tasted, and I had a special scallop and haddock pie with a divine cheesy cream sauce. Need I say more? The owner, Caroline Knox, was so kind, and after a "wee" chat about our kids we shuffled off towards Toravaig House on the Sleat peninsular of Skye. But not before Dave visited the Alba farm shop to buy some fresh local cheese for our hiking snacks. If you ever make it to Skye, you really have to try Alba in Breakish village--it's worth the stop. So on to Torvaig. Dave and I could have stayed at Kinloch Lodge, just a few miles north of Torvaig House, but the prices were astronomical. Claire MacDonald, the owner of Kinloch, is one of Scotland's most reputed chefs. She kind of redefined Scottish fare, and has opened a great lodge and restaurant to share her hospitality with others. However, tempting as it was, it was either 2 days there, or 6 days elsewhere. We chose elsewhere. So just down south of Kinloch is Torvaig House. A lovely little 4 star guest house with 7 rooms. Here, too, they are known for their food, so we got a dinner, bed and breakfast rate to make sure we enjoyed it every night. The house is near Knoch Bay and Armadale at the bottom of the Sleat peninsular.After we settled in and unpacked we decided to walk off our late lunch to the ruins of Knock Castle. Knock Castle dates back to the late Medieval era and was built by Clan MacLeod. It is also known as Castle Camus, a former stronghold of the MacDonalds. By 1689 it was left to decay. Supposedly the castle is haunted by a "green lady"--but we never saw her. The trail to the castle was accessed through walking on other people's properties. I am continually impressed with the openness of Scots and Irish to let others use their land to reach somewhere else. When we were last in Ireland we hiked through other's properties and no one questioned it or gave us funny looks or made comments. But when I was in England I wouldn't have even thought about such a thing! I'd have been yelled out and probably chased with a bat! And here no one looked twice with us opening their gates and letting ourselves on their land to walk. But now back to Knock Castle.There is hardly anything left of the castle. But it was well worth the walk to stand high on the rocks and look over the sea and feel the rain fall and again think about the people who lived here before. We went back for dinner at Torvaig, and had a four course meal. I noticed that almost every menu we've seen has some sort of jelly on it. Very strange, indeed. A texture I've not found to my liking. In fact, I find it awful. Just can't stomach it. But all in all, the food was good and we enjoyed it. We'll see what tomorrow holds.