The Misty Isle of Skye

As the title would suggest, I took a trip to the Isle of Skye, the large very close island of the Northern Inner Hebrides. This email should take quite a while, because instead of only covering the events of a single day, this email should cover my exploits from Friday morning to Sunday late afternoon. So sit back, grab a nice cup of tea, and most importantly do enjoy.

Friday 1 March 2013

6:52 AM

My Room, Dalkeith House

The morning always comes too quickly. This is especially true when I stay up into the wee hours of the morning watching Doctor Who. Call it a hobby, an obsession, or whatever, but it relaxes me. Some people smoke, I watch Doctor Who.

#Don’t Judge me

So anyway, I fought to get up, running to the shower and making it back to the room before 7:05. I was just going on a short little weekender trip, and so should anyone be surprised that I hadn’t even begun to pack yet? One of the nice things about being a guy however is that packing really isn’t all that daunting of a chore. The right number of shirts, an extra pair of trousers, socks, underwear, a towel, some charger cables for my camera and phone, a note book, journal, and a few snacks for the road. No problems here, I was packed and in the centre hall in a matter of minutes, taking only two very small bags. If I had a proper backpack, I’m confident that I could have fit everything in there with room to spare.

Anyway, there was quite the crowd of us waiting in the centre hall. The bus that would take the 27 of us on the Highlands tour to the Isle of Skye was due to arrive at about 8:00, but we quite a bit of waiting time before the bus was about to arrive. Jess and Amber didn’t seem too talkative this morning (they were probably till tired), and so I walked over by Patty (who had just returned from China), asking her a few questions about the Experience China Program (The little sibling of the Wisconsin in Scotland Program). I really don’t have any intent on going to China anytime soon, but since I work in the Global Connections office on campus, I felt it would be nice to know some of the intricate differences between these two programs (aside from the fact that they take place on different continents).

The bus pulled, up and we were greeted by Michael, a tall man with very long, light curly hair. He was wearing a Kilt (which instantly made me worry that this was going to be an overly touristy trip). All that aside, I put one of my bags in the boot of the bus, and put the other one under my seat. I was sitting directly in front of Jess and Amber, next to a window. Throughout the whole weekend, I wouldn’t take a single photo out the window due to the window’s tinting. That’s not to say it didn’t pay to have a window seat. The views upon entering the highlands would become truly spectacular.

It was a beautiful sunny day. It was perfect weather to drive down the motorway, across the fourth bridge and all the way up to Dunbar where we made our first stop. Michael had us walk up towards an old cathedral that went alongside the river. We were allowed to walk in, take a few photos, and then take some pictures of the town and river. There was a nice place to get coffee, and an even better place to get Danishes.

We continued on down the road for a ways until we made it to another small town. Unfortunately, I can’t remember the name of this place, but it was a ski town. There was really only one street which had a giant snow covered hill as a backdrop. It was about lunch time (which was the point of this stop), and so Amber, Jess and I went to the local Tesco to see if we could pick up some plastic knives. In an effort to save money, we had decided to bring along a loaf of bread, peanut butter, and jam. Unfortunately, we had nothing to spread it with. Also unfortunately, Tesco doesn’t sell plastic knives. However after a lot of looking, I was able to find a set of [5] metal teaspoons for 95p.

The three of us found a little park-like area, near a small stream which went under a bridge. A few others from the group were already here having their lunch. They had a similar idea, but had gone the extra step and pre-made the sandwiches before coming.

All and all, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Teaspoons work brilliantly for making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and it really was a pleasant lunch. Afterwards, the group of us that were sitting by the creek decided to take the path that followed the stream under the bridge. We continued on, hopping a fence and venturing onward until the stream met up with a larger river. The way the sun was shining on the crystal clear mountain water was really something else. We would have stayed a bit longer, but we were already late to get back to the bus. Michael didn’t seem to happy with us, but as far as I was concerned, it was all part of the adventure. That little excursion was well worth the five minutes we lost. However, shortly after we arrived on the bus Michael announced that he had got us unto a whisky factory (which meant free whisky samples for all).

Note: Whisky ≠ Whiskey. Whisky is only made in Scotland, and although within Scotland it is most commonly referred to as whisky, in the rest of the world it is known as Scotch whisky or more commonly Scotch. Whiskey is a liquor that is made in a similar fashion to whisky. However since it doesn’t use natural Scottish spring water, it cannot be classified as a Scotch.

Anyway, we watched a wee informational video on the production of whisky and the varieties that this particular distillery makes. Afterwards we were each given a wee dram of whisky. The woman behind the bar instructed us to let the whisky sit on your tong for a few seconds to really let the distinct flavours come out. I must say it was good, but as of that moment my personal preference in liquors still resided with Belizean One Barrel.

As I was getting back on the bus, I asked Michael if there was any way we could stop at a standing stone circle sometime over our next few days of travel. He said he’d have to think on where a good one would be, but that we certainly would be able to visit one. I took my seat feeling quite pleased about this.

We soon were back on the road, we were just a few miles shy of Inverness when Michael announced, “Alright we’re going to be taking a bit of a detour. I just got a request to visit some standing stone circles and so we’re going to have to take a few back roads to get there.”

My jaw just about hit the floor. Sure I expected to see something over the course of the trip, but the next stop? This was absolutely amazing, man did Michael deliver. He found a triple burial cairn complex, each with its own stone ring. Of course, I didn’t bring my compass or a measuring tape. Without either I couldn’t do any meaningful research, but truthfully I wouldn’t have had time to accurately run a survey on the whole site. After all this time, countless hours of research, here I was in a Standing Stone circle complex called the Balnuaran of Clava. I had never heard of it before, but considering the fact that there are literally hundreds of such sites throughout the British Isles this didn’t bother me much. I instead darted around the site like a madman, taking pictures of virtually every stone from any angle I thought would be useful.

Getting back on the bus, I thanked Michael profusely before we continued on to the Culloden battlefield, the site of the last battle on the Island of Great Brittan, where Bonnie Prince Charles met his final defeat by the English in 1746. Walking around on this unsuspecting moorland, I was given the same feeling I had when wandering about the hills of Gettysburg a few years back. I left a small stone on the larger stone that was engraved with the Stewart clan’s name. It wasn’t much of an offering, but they had the most to lose and they certainly lost it here.

When we left the battle field, we went into the shop. I liked this shop, not because I particularly like little knickknacks, but rather because I really like the fact that all the signs were written in Gaelic (pronounced “Gal-ik” not “Gay-lick” the second pronunciation refers to the Irish dialect which is a totally different animal altogether). I did find a few teach yourself Gaelic books which I ended up being late back to the bus inquiring about. Sometime in the eventual future, I’m going to buy one of these books on Amazon. Consider this added to bucket list.

From here, we continued on through the only city in the highlands, Inverness. Driving through Karen Gillan’s home town was pretty cool (If you don’t know who Karen Gillan is we may need to have a wee chat). We never did stop and get out, but rather just drove through the small city and on to the northern side of Loch Ness.

Through a tunnel that went under the road, and across the pier there was a rocky beach. We were given about 45 minutes, and over the course of that 45 minutes most of our group had taken turns jumping into the bitter cold water only to shout “Fuck it’s cold!” And then race to get out.

Having not brought any swimming trunks (intentionally), I didn’t feel like jumping in. I did however, wade in. I couldn’t really feel my feet afterwards. I do have to say I envied those who actually did jump in. Maybe next time I’m near the Loch, I’ll jump.

We piled back into the bus, and Michael passed around a bottle of whisky to help warm us up. After a few times around the bus, we cleaned out the bottle. I’m not sure if this was part of the tour or if he was just being nice, but either way it was much appreciated.

Our next stop was at the ruins of Urquhart Castle. Parking in the parking lot, he said that he was going to a petrol station to fill up the bus, and so we were free to wander about the area. Since the castle’s visitor centre was closed for the day we we’d be able to see the castle from the hillside overlooking the Loch. If we wanted to get a better look at the castle, and no one was around, all we’d have to do is hop over a wee little fence. However, if the authorities came we weren’t supposed to say he told us to do that.

The group stayed on top of the hill for some time. I got a few good pictures, here, but really did want to see the whole castle. So, wandered around and found the fence that Michael was talking about it. In one fluid motion I was on the other side of it, and jogging down the hill. The others in the group were quickly behind me. I have to say it felt quite nice to be leading the charge towards a castle. I suppose the brilliant part of this was that we weren’t supposed to be there. It also made things like climbing on the castle and walking on the grass rather trivial. We were able to really explore the entirety of the castle, before running back to the bus.

It was getting close to 6:00 PM, and the sky was getting darker. This is really quite sad because the further north we went the more beautiful it became. After about an hour and a half more driving, we crossed Skye bridge and left the Isle of Great Brittan and arrived onto Skye.

Our hostel was in the small port village of Kyleakin. Here we were greeted by Maggie the woman who ran the hostel. After getting our rooms, I went with a few of the guys to Saucy Mary’s, a local pub named after a medieval Viking princess, or rather her willingness to show her breasts from the window of her tower. Here I got a Strongbow and plate of fresh prawns. They were very good, although the few of them that were pregnant were a little less pleasant to pick apart.

When I got back to the hostel, I set about journaling the day’s events. As you now know they were quite numerous. When I finished, there were only a handful of people in the sitting room. Kev and Adam, two English guys who up here on holiday – Katrine, a woman from Iceland who happened to work at the hostel, and Alec from my group. Kev and Adam were pretty pissed (drunk) by this point. Which made the following debates on the coriolis effect and the merits behind mixed taps rather interesting. They were going to play spoons. Since I suck at spoons, I decided then would be as good a time to go to bed as any.

Saturday 2 March 2013

7:32 AM

MacBackpacker’s Hostel Room 2

Right so, I woke up Saturday, feeling disappointed that I missed my alarm. I had endeavored to see a sunrise on the ocean (this is more or less my thing whenever I’m on a small enough island I like to watch the sunrise). I soon found out from Maggie that it was too cloudy/misty to have seen any sunrise had I been up to watch it.

We got on the Bus at about 9:00, and we were headed for the only real town on the isle, Portree. We wandered about the town for a wee while, and then were off to the Faerie Glen. There are four rules to visiting the Faerie Glen.

1.      Never take anything.

2.      Don’t whistle

3.      Don’t walk around with your hands in your pockets

4.      Don’t swear

These four rules must be followed in order to insure you don’t piss off the Faeries. A few years back a Frenchman was on this tour, and thought Faeries were a load of crap. So he picked up a rock and put it in his pocket, stuck one hand in his pocket, cussed out the faeries, and then whistled loudly with his other hand. In a matter of seconds he had slipped down the hill and broken his foot. Now this doesn’t mean I believe in faeries, but I do like to be respectful in sacred places. So I followed the rules, and explored the hillside. I ran alongside sheep as I climbed the difficult ways up and over the various hills. The sky was overcast, but it was too beautiful to care.

Our next stop was the port village of Uig. Here we stopped for lunch. Amber Jess and I made Peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches with the remaining bread and teaspoons. It was a nice little village, I liked being here especially because if I were to ever go to the Isle of Lewis this would be where I’d depart.

We were off then to the Quiraing mountain pass. Michael dropped us off, and told us not to stray from the path. He was going to go around and meet us on the other side. Once again, I feel like I lead the charge down the path. However anytime it tripped my fancy (purely for the purpose of seeing good sites), I would stray from the path and go exploring a wee bit. The mist in these mountains was incredibly thick. It was absolutely brilliant here we were walking through clouds on the Isle of Skye. Not everyone in the group was as keen on mountain hiking, and the especially didn’t like it when I would stray from the path. But Since I was one of the fastest in the group, it really wasn’t much of a chore for me to wander off and make it back to the trail well before the last of us.

Eventually the path forked, and we had to decide which way to take. The group of us agreed on taking the left path. Once we had gone down the left path for quite a ways, the rest of the group was getting rather sceptical. Looking to the side of a small bluff, I could see a path that wrapped around the mountainside. I’m still fairly certain that this secondary trail was what the right trail would lead to.

Unfortunately I couldn’t convince the others of this. Luckily, Asia, a girl in our group, quite angrily did convince most of the rest of the group to go the way I had been saying from the beginning. There were a hand full of people who stubbornly refused and turned around.

I would like to take this moment to mention that I was right. Not to brag or anything, that would be so very out of character. Anyway yeah I was right, and it cost us quite a bit of time because the others didn’t want to listen. Was I a bit bitter about this? You bet.

Our next stop was the beautiful waterfall at Kilt rock, and then another smaller waterfall at the Old man of Storr. These were short little trips that were quite fun, but I have to admit I would have enjoyed more if I wasn’t still rather annoyed by a handful of members of the group.

There was still a bit of daylight left when we finally made it back to Kyleakin. So me and a few of the guys decided now would be a good time to wander to the ruins of Maol Castle (where our infamous Viking princess once lived). It was a good hike up there, and the views of the castle were certainly worth it, but I’m quite glad I had brought my torch along for the way back.

 Back in the hostel, I made dinner. I had brought along a large amount of leftovers, and I threw them all into a frying pan. Stir frying them and adding a few spices that happened to be lying around, I made something that looked gross but tasted pretty good. This is kind of my M.O. when I cook, but you eat for your tong not your eyeballs so as far as I’m concerned tasty is all that matters.

After dinner, I went into the sitting room where Kev, Adam, and their friend Allen (who was passed out on the floor drunk the night before), were talking with Terry from my group and a guy named Lenny. Lenny was pissed, so pissed in fact that it made me wonder what was left of his liver. The conversation went waffled between drunk mutterings about nothing, the Kinks being the best music group ever, and random insults that were honestly more funny than offensive.

We all took turns rotating out of the room to take a break, but we were really just biding time until the live music was going to start at Saucy Mary’s. At about 10:00, I went over there with the English guys (Kev, Allen, and Adam). We got some drinks and met up with Michael who was talking to a friend of his. As it would turn out, that Saturday was Maggie’s birthday and so they were celebrating.

Alec soon joined us along with Katrine who was already there. We began playing keep the balloon off the ground, which was especially fun when the majority of the pub began to join in. After a little bit, a hand full of people came into the pub from my group including Jess. I went over to talk to her for a little while, but I was more interested in meeting locals and hanging with my English friends. After all, that is why I was there in the first place.

So this is where things start getting a little bit blurry. The first shot I had tasted like an evergreen tree, and the second one tasted really good, although I can’t remember what it tasted like. I had two pints of strong bow throughout the night, one of which I had to slam because of a drinking rule. Apparently if you take a drink with your right hand, and someone yells buffalo, you have to slam the drink. I did know this rule the whole night, and I had taken extra care to drink out of my left hand. However, it’s really hard to break a lifetime of right-handedness.

Sometime over the course of the evening, I went over to sit by a few of the guys from my group. They must not have been talking about something all that interesting because, I instead turned my attention to the four local girls who were sitting at the adjoining table. Jade, Shannon, Courtney, and Allison were all from here, but Shannon attended college at the University of Glasgow. They were nice to have a short chat with, but they went out to have a smoke, and I went back to my other mates.

One of the coolest things that happened quite a lot over the course of the night was my accent. As some of you may or may not know, I’ve been working on an English accent for quite some time. After drinking with my English friends for a while, it just kind of came out. No stopping it, no controlling it, I just had an English accent. So here’s how many introductory conversations would go.

“So you’re on holiday? Where are you from?”

“Wisconsin”

“Really? Then why do you sound English or Welsh?”

“I Dunno, probably too much Doctor Who.”

Either way the girls loved it, so I’m counting it as a win (even if it annoys the people in my group).

Katrine and Adam were going to go for a spur of the moment sprint, which sounded like an exceptional idea. I had to set my drink down, but I followed after them. They complained that I didn’t sprint the whole way…   I suppose this isn’t that interesting of a story so I’m going to cut to the chase on this one, I set them up. We didn’t see much of them the rest of the night, and Adam never went back to his room. You do the math. I love it when I do that.

So I was feeling pretty good about myself, and I went back into the pub. This time I helped Kev build up the confidence to talk to one of the girls in my group. She didn’t stay out much after that, but he did get a kiss out of the deal so I’m going to call that a two for two.

So it ended up being, Alec, Kev, Allan, and I when the bar closed. The lot of us were waiting outside the bar with none other than Shannon, Jade, Courtney, and Allison. None of us really wanted to go to sleep yet. We had a place, they had some alcohol in Kyleakin those are the two key ingredients to an after party, just add drinking games.

Cultural note: there is no great difference in drinking games between the United States and the United Kingdom, not that I would know what drinking games in the States are like…   anyway moving on.

The night continued on like this, and I found myself sitting closer and closer to Shannon. I think at about 4:00 in the morning Alec and I looked at each other and decided that we weren’t going to get any sleep that night.

Allan went to bed sometime around 4:30, and we continued on until about 6:00 when Courtney and Allison decided they had to go. Shannon and I were practically joined at the hip by this point, and Alec and Jade weren’t all that different. We kept talking until it got close to 7:00, and then they had to go. Shannon was leaving for Glasgow pretty soon, and Jade just felt like going.

So the five of us walked out, and I suggested that we go and watch the sun rise. Shannon loved the idea, but really had to get going, and so we said our goodbyes. Shannon and I doing so rather passionately (we kissed for an incredibly long time). Glasgow isn’t that far. We’re going to see each other again sometime. I don’t know if it will go anywhere, because we’re both too practical to jump into a relationship that is destined to be long distance. However, I will promise you this. Just this once, I’m going to try not to be practical. We’ll see where it goes from there.

When I got back into the hostel, Kev and Alec congratulated me. Terry was awake now, and so Kev and I walked with him down by the water to see if we could see any wild otters. We didn’t but it was still pretty cool to look at the early morning ocean.

When we finally got back to the hostel, I made some tea and then packed up my stuff getting ready to head out. The bus arrived, as I finished packing. I went down stairs, and said my goodbyes to Kev, Allen, Adam, and Katrine – also congratulating Adam and Katrine. I do love it when I play match maker.

All of my group, slowly but surely piled on the bus, and in no time we were going back across Skye Bridge and watching the misty isle fade into the background, partially lit by the early morning sun.

Our first brief stop was Eilean Donan Castle, this spectacular castle which we only were able to see from a across the loch is in every way the post card worthy castle. Considering the fact that I hadn’t had any sleep yet, I’m confident that some zombies are livelier.

When we got back on the bus and began to move though the stunningly breath-taking mountainsides, Terry insisted that I get some sleep. I had no will to argue, and I was out cold. I awoke after what felt like only a few seconds (it had been the better part of two hours), and we stopped at a small little place some breakfast.

I got a baked potato with haggis, and a coke. I don’t know if that qualifys as the breakfast of champions or not, but it sure was tasty so that’s all that matters in my book. This was the third time I’ve had haggis and I have to admit this was the best I’ve had yet. The others of the group who tried it agreed. Just no one tell Henry.

After piling back on the bus, I quickly fell asleep again for a short while. The next time we got out we went for the shortest of hikes along some truly stunning mountainsides. I really wished I could have really had the opportunity to go hiking out here. When I was out and moving around, I could do it, but get me back on the bus and I was out like a light.

We continued on for quite a ways until we made it to Doune Castle. This was a little extra that Michael was adding to the tour. Unfortunately, we only had about 15 minutes here and a tour (which cost about five quid) would last an hour and a half. It’s a shame because I really would have liked to see more of the place.

Our next and final destination was Sterling. Unfortunately, we weren’t there to see the castle. Instead we were there to see the Wallace Memorial, which was incredibly impressive. This is a massive tower on top of an already tall hill. Certainly a wonderful monument to a great Scottish hero, who was much taller than Mel Gibson and quite likely never wore a kilt.

We made it back home close to 5:30, exhausted but pleased with our trip. Since Michael had been such a great tour guide, the group had chipped in and bought him a bottle of whisky. I shook his hand on the way out, thanking him again for the stone circle trip. He smiled and congratulated me about my night (which by then, the whole bus had heard about).

We walked back into the house, tired but happy – happy for a great trip and happy to be home.

Cheers!

--Anth