On a day carved out from a two-week visit in Edinburgh, we took a small-group van trip through part of the Highlands, including a stop at (can you avoid it?) Loch Ness.
The Loch Ness experience, as our guide set it up. Say 'Cheese!' (or 'Haggis')
Normally, I like to take my time, and have a chance to get a feel for a place. But, I also like to make a day trip of two from wherever I'm staying, and that means a certain number of places where I only get a taste, and sometimes a desire for more. This time I got to live the tag line in my signature: The best part of every trip is realizing it has upset your expectations.
Fueled perhaps by epic movies, romantic images and a few adventure and spy novels, I had an idea of the Scottish Highlands as being steeper, deeper and more mysterious than they appear. In that view, the people lived along the edges of mountain trails, and the mountains were tall and steep.
Well, so much for that. Even the tallest, Ben Nevis, would be lost in the Rockies, and right at home in the Catskills. So, while the Highlands as a whole are well above sea level, what we saw was largely rolling plains with serious hills. And that was fine. While some of that was not too exciting, some was seriously beautiful, and with a fine collection of clouds to top it off.
Not exactly a short trip; the time shown is driving; we were actually closer to 13 hours including stops and a traffic issue just before the Forth Road Bridge leading out of the city. For many years after its 1964 opening, it was the longest suspension bridge outside North America. Just next to it is the UNESCO-listed 1885 Forth bridge that carries rail traffic and is easily one of Scotland's most-recognized sights. For good measure, here's another interesting bridge, a recent construction built on ancient piers.
The first stop on our journey was in Pitlochry, a town that might be said to mark the boundary between low lands and Highlands. I can't vouch for the geographical distinction, but it's certainly the starting point for all sorts of hill-walkers, mountain walkers and other vacationers, and aside from two whiskey distilleries, one the smallest in Scotland, nearly all its businesses are set up to supply visitors with equipment, food, lodging and souvenirs.
If a town could ever be said to be Victorian, this one is it: it was little more than a bump in the road until she stopped there while touring Scotland in 1842. She commented favorably on it, mentioned it to friends, and then went on her way. But visitors soon found their way, the railroad arrived ten years later, and the main street was lined with neat and substantial stone buildings.
Out of sight, behind the main street, is a large parking lot for tour coaches and some restaurants serving a more transient trade than those on the street above. One of them has a nearly-shameful but clever pun in its advertising sign. Also by the coach park and public loo is one of a number of ladybug benches scattered around the town; it was the clue for this week's One-Clue Mystery, and was solved by George G.
Aside from hills (mountains, if you must) and streams and clouds, the Highlands also have a lot of sheep.
Other wildlife, too, including the deer... but mostly sheep.
Our second stop was at Fort Augustus, at the southern end of Loch Ness. Like Pitlochry, its 700 or so residents work mostly at supporting a tourist trade that brings thousands each year to see if they can see a sea monster in the Loch. We were offered an hour's boat ride out on the Loch, or time for lunch and a stroll.
We took the lunch and the stroll, and our fellow passengers told us that they hadn't seen a monster either, so we likely made the right choice. It's a picturesque small place with a few interesting buildings.
It's also where the River Och and the Caledonian Canal flow into Loch Ness. The canal connects a number of the lakes, making long-distance trips by boat possible. The river flows on its own; the canal enters through this lock.
The restaurant just by the dock for the sightseeing boats is also home, sort of, to a flock of ducks that are said to show up at the door whenever a new coach party arrives; they are then ritually shooed back to the water occasionally lured forward with handfuls of bread by the staff. Below, the arrival.
Some names just roll off your tongue...and land with a thud.
More scenes along our route back, as we passed through Glencoe and other areas, accompanied by tales of highland clans and wars and slaughters, hard to believe among the green streams and quiet land.
Near this tranquil scene, in 1692, the Glencoe Massacre took place; members of the MacDonald clan were slaughtered by their 'houseguests,' soldiers led by the rival Campbells. Our guide talked about rivalry among the clans, and hinted at illicit romantic connections—but it actually appears tied to the recent Jacobite rebellion and loyalty to the new monarchs, William and Mary.
And then, toward the end of the trip, the light began to fade, and the shadows began to take on a bit more menace...
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