Logbook: Isle of Skye

We were up and moving early Tuesday morning to catch the ferry from Mallaig over to the Isle of Skye. Again, it is a 45 minute crossing that seems to take you to another world. On first impression, Skye is more rugged than Mull (or the mainland) and seems to have more exposed rock and barren moors. The weather was pretty nice and we immediately set off on a pretty good two lane road then continued on a smaller, single-lane track toward the southwest coast. By now I have become quite comfortable with the whole "driving on the left" situation, but I'm not sure one ever feels completely at ease with the single-track roads. Not only are they narrow and require some attention -- plus a lot of stopping and starting -- to synchronize passing other cars at the slightly wider "passing places" but the tracks wind sharply around blind curves and over blind summits. You just never know when another car is going to appear only a few meters ahead of you with neither of you having any place to pull over. It is fun driving, actually, but it is also a little stressful and tiring.

Upon reaching the coast, we parked the car and changed into our hiking boots to take a walk on a well defined trail up into the hills. We had no information about exactly where the trail would take us, but we were keen to walk after our lengthy drive and to take advantage of the beautiful weather. After working our way pretty steadily up hill for about an hour, Mom suggested we take a break to eat our sack lunch. About that time a hiker came from the other direction and said that a lovely view was "just up ahead." We've learned that there is no universal standard for "just up ahead" so I volunteered to walk ahead and check it out then wave to Mom if it was really pretty close and worthwhile. Sure enough, about ten minutes later I crested the hill and had a spectacular view of the Cuillin Mountains across a stunning bay with a white sandy beach along the coast. I waved to Mom who joined me for a delightful picnic in a truly astonishing setting then we headed back down and continued our drive.

We arrived in the town of Portree and checked into a charming little inn with enough time for me to scout out an internet connection at a local hostel. The guy at the desk said I was welcome to buy an hour of time online, but he couldn't let me sit inside due to a rule about "registered guests only" being allowed on the premises. So, I sat outside on a bench and caught up with myself for a about an hour before it started to rain and I had to head back to the inn. Drams, dinner and sleep finished another successful day of exploration! Yesterday morning was just lovely, with clear blue skies and a bright sun bathing the little harbor of Portree. We had breakfast and got in the car, heading toward the extreme northwest of the island on a series of ever diminishing roads. Sadly, the weather started closing in on our way and was sufficiently bleak by the time we reached the coast that we didn't have much of a view anywhere.

Intrepid walkers that we are, however, we did "boot up" and take a decent walk in the wind and light rain out onto a bluff point then down onto a coral beach. You may have noticed that I've now mentioned "beaches" -- both sand and coral -- a few times. Much to our surprise we have found many beaches out here on the Isles, and since I don't understand enough about beach geology to be able to explain their presence I will just say it seems strange to find them here at such high latitudes amidst such rugged surroundings. Satisfied that we had made the most we could of the day at hand, we headed back to Portree along the circuit route we had planned out. In just two days of part-time driving we have already covered practically every road on the Isle and since Mom has picked up on my practice of highlighting roads as we travel them, our map is looking quite colorful! I had another brief session online when we got back to town -- this time I was smart enough to drive and was able to sit in the car! -- then it was drams, dinner and sleep to finish the day.

We had a few hours this morning before our ferry, so we used our time to explore our last parts of Skye. Heading north out of Portree we stopped to check out the Old Man of Storr and Kilt Rock then worked our way through the Quiraing Mountains and down to the ferry port at Uig. If nothing else, the morning confirmed that Skye is indeed a stunning island with truly remarkable scenery. Although I feel like we've seen much of the island in the two days we've spent here, I think one would have to spend a long time here to really comprehend all that it is. I don't think I would ever choose to live on Skye, but it sure would be nice to have it handy for extensive exploration over time. From here we will take a ferry across to the Outer Hebrides island of North Uist. As we approach the half-way point of our Scotland exploration, we are also approaching the most distant point.

Lost In Translation: Isle of Skye, Scotland

Road Sign

Isle of Skye, Scotland

August 2007

I almost drove off the road trying to figure out what the sign said!

Dram: Highland Cow

While driving on the Isle of Skye, we passed a beautiful Scottish Highland Cow standing by the roadside. Here's a little Dram to share the experience!

Logbook: Mull Iona Staffa

Friday morning we tracked down the "Trouser Bridge Inn" legend (See Dram below) then filled up with petrol, picked up some food and got on line for the ferry to Mull. The crossing takes only about 45 minutes, but when you pull off the ferry onto the island you feel like you've entered another world. The terrain ranges from stark, rugged moors to lush fertile fields and from rocky cliffs to sandy beaches. There are few buildings to be seen, and even fewer people. The sheep and cattle can be spotted up in the hills, scattered across the fields and often in the road, a single lane track that's in generally poor shape and has only occasional "passing places" barely wide enough for two small cars to get by. As different as Mull is, it seems somehow ordinary when one reaches the end of the island at Fionnphort and views the tiny island of Iona across the narrow channel. I had been to Iona once before -- about twenty years ago -- and I was still awestruck when it came into view.

We caught a tiny ferry for the very short ride across the channel and enjoyed a few hours of wandering around, touring through the old nunnery (where a wedding was taking place!) and visiting the famous abbey before taking a short walk through the fields and up to the hills. There is something truly remarkable about Iona, a kind of "feeling" that is hard to describe. Perhaps because at 2.9 billion years old it is one of the oldest pieces of rock on Earth. Perhaps because there are so few people, buildings and vehicles set in the wide open pastoral setting. Perhaps because of the remains of ancient religious structures. I'm not sure. What I do know is that Iona has a tranquility about it that makes one want to just hang out there. By sunset we were on the little ferry back to Mull, then checked into our little B&B before having dinner at the only little pub/restaurant in town and calling it a day.

Saturday morning we drove to the south coast of Mull to take a look at a beach/cliff walk, but the weather was sufficiently cold, rainy and windy that we decided it wouldn't be very fun. So, we headed back to Fionnphort and had a bowl of soup then boarded a small boat for an hour long trip to Staffa, a small rock island with spectacular basaltic geology, huge natural caves and great views. We were very fortunate to have the weather clear up dramatically when we arrived and were thrilled to explore the tiny island for an hour or so until it was time to make the boat trip back. I'll put a few pictures in the current Photo Log and let them do a better job of describing Staffa. For now, I'll just say that once again I wish I had studied more geology!

Yesterday we drove from the south side of Mull to the north via a very narrow single track road that passed through and over just about every kind of terrain you can imagine. We stopped at various places to enjoy the views and spent some time on an improbable white sand beach before taking a pleasant little hike through woods and out to the rocky coast. As evening approached we arrived in Tobermory, a truly lovely, colorful little seaside town. We didn't have much time there, but I would definitely put it on my list of places to visit again. This morning we caught a little ferry from Tobermory across a modest channel to return to the mainland and drive north through even more spectacular scenery on an even more challenging single track roads. We arrived here in Mallaig in time to grab some lunch then spent some time making arrangements going forward for our exploration of the "outer" islands. We've been going pretty fast for the past week, so it's been a good afternoon to relax a little bit, catch up with ourselves and get ready for another high energy week ahead.

Dram: Doggie Dinnertime

While my Mom and I were hiking on Iona, a hard working sheep dog ran past us and up the highest hill on the island to annoy, er, herd some sheep. A few moments later I caught the dog on video as it came speeding down the hill, headed -- we imagined -- for dinner. Here's a quick little Dram for dog lovers!

Dram: Trousers Bridge Inn

Just south of Oban there is an old stone bridge called "The Bridge Over The Atlantic" and next to it is a place knows as "Trousers Inn." The story goes that after the Jacobite Rising of 1745, Scots were forbidden to wear kilts on the mainland and had to wear trousers instead. When they would return to their home island -- across the small stone bridge which, technically, crosses the Atlantic from the mainland -- they would stop at the Inn to change out of their trousers and back into their beloved kilts. Yet another example from the "You can't make this stuff up" category!

Logbook: Oban

On Tuesday morning I caught a ride on the Inn's shuttle van to the airport to meet my Mom. Unlike her last trip over, her flight was on time and she'd had good connections, so she was in much better shape to begin our exploration together. After a quick stop back at the Inn so she could sort herself out, we threw our gear in the car and took off. I hadn't really thought much about it, but my Mom commented on how adeptly I navigated the congestion getting out of the airport area and on my facility with driving on the left in general. It's funny how your brain adjusts to things, I guess, because after driving over here for a couple (few?) weeks now, it all seems quite normal to me. We zoomed down the M8 to Glasgow then worked our way through some traffic until we were able to continue with relative speed to the northwest. A few minutes later we were cruising along the shores of Loch Lomond, getting our first exposure to the beauty that makes this area of Scotland so unforgettable. We found a nice little place along the way to have some lunch then continued through the Trossach mountain passes and on out to the coast.

Oban is visually stunning, a graceful little city surrounding a peaceful harbor with beautiful views across to the islands. It is also very charming, with its stone buildings, winding streets and ever-present Scottish flavor. Along our drive up, we had been delighted to see signs advertising that the "Oban Highland Games" would be held during our time here -- a very happy coincidence of something we were keen to experience -- but it gave us a little concern about whether or not we would have trouble finding a place to stay. Not to worry, a little scouting around found us a perfectly good, slightly funky little hotel that could give us a room for the next three nights. By the time we checked in, jet lag had finally caught up with Mom -- aided, perhaps, by our celebratory dram -- and a short nap was in order. In the evening we wandered around town, found a decent place to eat then called it a day.

Yesterday morning we awoke to a fabulous blue sky and decided to go find a walk. Just south of Oban we boarded a tiny, twelve passenger ferry that runs a few hundred meters to the small island of Kerrera which is highly recommended for its walkability. True to its reputation, the six mile loop trail around the southern end of the island is excellent. Along the shore, around the crags, over the moors and through the farms we had a really excellent walk. The weather was absolutely perfect and we could see for miles across the water to the islands and well inland to the higher peaks. We stopped to have a sack lunch in sight of some old castle ruins then completed the walk and caught the ferry back to our car. We were back in Oban by dram-time, celebrated a fine day then got cleaned up and went out to dinner.

Today was the day of the Oban Games and we had a great time. Starting with a parade from downtown out to the athletic fields, the action never stopped. On first impression, the scene on the field seems to be chaotic. After a while, a sense of order somehow emerges: Four small platforms are set at the corners of the field where individual bagpipe competition goes on all the time; inside that perimeter, a normal size grass track hosts all manner of running events throughout the day; inside that ring, a fairly large stage in one corner hosts an endless stream of highland dancing competition; in the corner next to that, a vaulting area hosts other field events; and in the other half of the infield, the "heavy" contests like hammer and stone throwing take place. All around the outside of that complex is a broad array of food vendors, crafts, etc. All around the whole thing is a fairly large bleacher on one side and a nice hill for viewing on the other. Thousands of people -- including us -- spent a nice day enjoying a constant stream of activity, sports, highland culture, food, babies, puppies and fun! (Be sure to take a look at the Photos for more highlights.)

It's been a great first few days of our road trip. Tomorrow morning we take a ferry across to Mull and begin our exploration of the Hebrides. Stay tuned!

Dram: Bagpipe Fingers

There was a lot going on at the Oban Highland Games, but one little thing in particular caught my eye: As the young bagpipers performed, the judge's fingers seemed to match them note for note. Here's a little Dram that shows you can't fight instinct!

Lost In Translation: Oban, Scotland

Bank Window Advertisement

Oban, Scotland

August 2007

It turns out that "hoick" is a word after all, but this struck me as too funny not to share.

Logbook: An Almost Perfect Day

Having arrived back in Edinburgh last night -- a day earlier earlier than I had "planned" -- I had all of today with nothing to do until my Mom arrives tomorrow morning. Since she and I will be "on the go" for the next two weeks, I decided to use the day to take care of "chores" and inquired at the front desk about the possibility of doing some laundry. I was informed that the Inn has no laundry facilities and the only laundromat they could think of was the one back in downtown Edinburgh that I had used when I stayed there before. I wasn't about to go back into the city and deal with the traffic, etc., just to do laundry, so I went online to search for alternatives. Believe it or not, you can find laundromats online, and I found one in Falkirk, a small city some twenty miles west of Edinburgh. I figured this was a perfect opportunity to combine chores with exploration, so I grabbed my day pack and my laundry bag and headed out the door.

Navigating to Falkirk on the M9 was easy and shortly after entering the town I spotted a sign for Camelon, the "suburb" where the laundromat was located. A few arbitrary turns later, I stumbled across Union Street, spotted the laundromat, parked the car and went in. Rachel, the laundress, informed me that I was welcome to do my laundry or, for two pounds more, she would do it for me. I was in a new place on a nice day, so I handed over my bag and was told to come back in a couple of hours. I asked her where I could get some lunch and she sent me down the street to a little deli where I picked up a chicken sandwich and a bottle of juice. I asked the ladies behind the counter where I might find a nice place to sit and eat, and they suggested I walk to a park about twenty minutes away. A guy in overalls who was also picking up his lunch said, "Nae! Go to the corner and turn left. There's a little cemetery just down the block. It's a nice, quiet place to sit. My mates and I eat there all the time." The ladies were horrified at the notion of eating lunch in a cemetery, but the guy and I exchanged looks that said "It's a guy thing" and I thanked them all, grabbed my lunch and headed out.

I never actually made it to the cemetery because I found a quiet spot along the way to sit on a bench overlooking a nice recreational field. Good enough for me. On my way back toward my car I happened to walk past a barber shop and decided to stop in to get a trim so that I'd look tidy for my Mom. Unfortunately, my specific, repeated request for a "wee trim" was mostly unheeded so I ended up with a really, really short cut that you can see in the Haircut Chronicles. (Note: I'm not really bummed about it -- it's just part of the deal when you get your hair cut in a different place every time -- but it was the thing that made the day "almost" perfect.)

I still had some time to kill before Rachel would have my laundry ready, so I wandered into town and stumbled onto a lock belonging to the Forth & Clyde Canal. I struck up a conversation with a couple of guys who were working the lock and they asked if I had seen "The Wheel" yet. I hadn't, of course, so they pointed me down the canal path and said, "It's about a mile that way... You can't miss it!" So, off I went down the path and pretty soon came upon "The Falkirk Wheel." In a nutshell, Falkirk is where two canals come together to continue their way east on the Forth & Clyde. One of the canals arrives at a much higher level than the other, so its boats have to be raised/lowered quite a bit. Instead of using a series of closely spaced locks, the Wheel takes on boats at the top/bottom and spins to release them at the other level. The basic concept is pretty simple, but it is interesting and fun to watch so I hung out for a bit, seeing something entirely new to me.

From the Wheel, I walked back into town, picked up my laundry and drove back to the Inn at the airport. The point of the story, I guess, is that even "chore day" can be "explore day" if you choose the path of the unknown, let things unfold however they may, engage strangers in spontaneous co-creation and follow your instincts. This is really what The Voyage is all about, and it helped make today an almost perfect day!

(Note: When my Mom arrives in the morning, we will be heading west on our two week road trip. Internet facilities along the way are unknown, but I will -- as always -- strive to keep you up to date!)