Friday, July 09, 2004
The Scotland Report: Installment VII
I was beginning to think that it would take me as long to blog Scotland as it did to visit it! I'm relieved to see that the end is finally in sight.
We left Broadford on Monday morning and traveled back over the bridge to the mainland. We spent most of the morning making our way to Glenfinnan, home of the monument to Bonnie Prince Charlie:
Glenfinnan is also the location of this railway bridge, which was crossed by the Hogwarts Express in the Harry Potter movies:
This is where I ran out of room on my camera's memory stick, which I felt was perfect timing. The rest of the day was dedicated to getting down to the Glasgow area in preparation for our trip to the airport the following day. The scenery was beautiful, but by that point we were all a bit numb: "Yeah, yeah, beautiful loch. Pass the corn nuts."
We spent the night at the Holiday Inn Express in Greenock. I had booked an internet special a couple days earlier from the tourist office in Portree, and at only 39 pounds for all 4 of us, it was quite a bargain. It was so nice to use a bathroom sink again where the hot and cold water both ran out of the same faucet!
Tuesday morning we enjoyed the breakfast buffet at the hotel and then drove down to Prestwick Airport. We turned in the rental car, checked our bags with Security, and tried to figure out how to pass the 9 hours we had before our flight.
We wound up going by train into the town of Ayr, birthplace of Robert Burns. We wandered around downtown for a bit and wound up having lunch at Burger King. Then we took the train back to the airport and settled in for the few remaining hours.
I hit the bookstore and bought a copy of Michael Moore's Dude, Where's My Country? which I enjoyed immensely. I noticed that the gentleman sitting next to me in the waiting area was reading this book:
Finally, it was time to get on our plane and head back to Germany. We arrived back in Frankfurt-Hahn at around midnight and made it back to Mannheim at 2:00 a.m.
Here's a random observation that I've been meaning to stick in somewhere, so I might as well tack it on here at the end. For all the stereotypes about the Scots being penny-pinchers, I have never before seen a more altruistic-minded society. Every cash register in every store had at least 1 or 2 piggy banks for various charities. The captain of our seal boat had a jar set up for tips, which he was donating to cancer research. In fact, that same afternoon in Plockton a hotel was hosting a tea to benefit cancer research. Even the celidh that we enjoyed on the Isle of Skye was a benefit for multiple sclerosis.
I mentioned this to the clerk at the riding-center cafe on Skye, when I noticed that she had various certificates posted proclaiming that the cafe had donated so much money or so much time to a certain children's home. She said she had never really thought much about it but was pleased and flattered that I had noticed. There are worse things to be known for than a concern for your fellow earthlings.
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We left Broadford on Monday morning and traveled back over the bridge to the mainland. We spent most of the morning making our way to Glenfinnan, home of the monument to Bonnie Prince Charlie:
Glenfinnan is also the location of this railway bridge, which was crossed by the Hogwarts Express in the Harry Potter movies:
This is where I ran out of room on my camera's memory stick, which I felt was perfect timing. The rest of the day was dedicated to getting down to the Glasgow area in preparation for our trip to the airport the following day. The scenery was beautiful, but by that point we were all a bit numb: "Yeah, yeah, beautiful loch. Pass the corn nuts."
We spent the night at the Holiday Inn Express in Greenock. I had booked an internet special a couple days earlier from the tourist office in Portree, and at only 39 pounds for all 4 of us, it was quite a bargain. It was so nice to use a bathroom sink again where the hot and cold water both ran out of the same faucet!
Tuesday morning we enjoyed the breakfast buffet at the hotel and then drove down to Prestwick Airport. We turned in the rental car, checked our bags with Security, and tried to figure out how to pass the 9 hours we had before our flight.
We wound up going by train into the town of Ayr, birthplace of Robert Burns. We wandered around downtown for a bit and wound up having lunch at Burger King. Then we took the train back to the airport and settled in for the few remaining hours.
I hit the bookstore and bought a copy of Michael Moore's Dude, Where's My Country? which I enjoyed immensely. I noticed that the gentleman sitting next to me in the waiting area was reading this book:
Finally, it was time to get on our plane and head back to Germany. We arrived back in Frankfurt-Hahn at around midnight and made it back to Mannheim at 2:00 a.m.
Here's a random observation that I've been meaning to stick in somewhere, so I might as well tack it on here at the end. For all the stereotypes about the Scots being penny-pinchers, I have never before seen a more altruistic-minded society. Every cash register in every store had at least 1 or 2 piggy banks for various charities. The captain of our seal boat had a jar set up for tips, which he was donating to cancer research. In fact, that same afternoon in Plockton a hotel was hosting a tea to benefit cancer research. Even the celidh that we enjoyed on the Isle of Skye was a benefit for multiple sclerosis.
I mentioned this to the clerk at the riding-center cafe on Skye, when I noticed that she had various certificates posted proclaiming that the cafe had donated so much money or so much time to a certain children's home. She said she had never really thought much about it but was pleased and flattered that I had noticed. There are worse things to be known for than a concern for your fellow earthlings.
Labels: Scotland
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
The Scotland Report: Installment VI
Sunday morning we enjoyed a wonderful breakfast in our hotel in Portree and then headed north to explore the Trotternish Peninsula.
The road was narrow, but the scenery was amazing. We got out of the car to admire Lealt Falls and the rock formation known as the Old Man of Storr. It was misty on the old man that day, but you can have an idea of what is was like:
One thing I forgot to mention from our very first night in Scotland is that as we were walking from the plane to the terminal, a small airplane buzzed by at what seemed like pretty close range. One of the airport workers informed us that the plane was off of the aircraft carrier the USS Enterprise, which was in local waters as part of an exercise. We thought that was very cool but expected no further encounters with the Enterprise.
Imagine our surprise then, when we rounded a curve up on the northern end of Skye and saw this just off the coast:
The carrier was surrounded by other smaller ships, and we even saw a plane taking off from its deck. I hopped out of the car and immediately began snapping pictures, but that sucker moves FAST! Here's another halfway decent one though:
We stopped for lunch at a riding center, where Daddy and I had the most amazing scones with strawberries and whipped cream. In the field outside the parking lot, we saw one of Dr. Doolittle's legendary animals, the Push-Me-Pull-Ewe:
We were now finished with the Trotternish Peninsula and continued on to explore the northwestern part of the island. We went to Dunvegan Castle but opted not to go inside for the tour. It was getting late, and we were more interested in trying to find the seals that we had heard lived in the area. So we drove past the castle and down an even narrower road and were able to see a few seals on an island in the middle of the loch. I took this picture of the castle:
We spent the rest of the afternoon driving down to the town of Broadford to find a place to stop for the night.
I was excited to see a youth hostel, and in spite of Dad's assertion that "I ain't no youth," I insisted that we at least check it out. It turned out to be a wonderful bargain that more than offset the splurge from the night before. We got a 6-bed room to ourselves at a rate of 12 pounds per adult and 9 pounds per kid. The room was simple but clean and comfortable:
All around Scotland, I wanted to get a picture of my dad in front of one particular street sign. In Broadford, I finally got my chance. I call this one "Hey, Papa Boyd! What's your sign?"
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The road was narrow, but the scenery was amazing. We got out of the car to admire Lealt Falls and the rock formation known as the Old Man of Storr. It was misty on the old man that day, but you can have an idea of what is was like:
One thing I forgot to mention from our very first night in Scotland is that as we were walking from the plane to the terminal, a small airplane buzzed by at what seemed like pretty close range. One of the airport workers informed us that the plane was off of the aircraft carrier the USS Enterprise, which was in local waters as part of an exercise. We thought that was very cool but expected no further encounters with the Enterprise.
Imagine our surprise then, when we rounded a curve up on the northern end of Skye and saw this just off the coast:
The carrier was surrounded by other smaller ships, and we even saw a plane taking off from its deck. I hopped out of the car and immediately began snapping pictures, but that sucker moves FAST! Here's another halfway decent one though:
We stopped for lunch at a riding center, where Daddy and I had the most amazing scones with strawberries and whipped cream. In the field outside the parking lot, we saw one of Dr. Doolittle's legendary animals, the Push-Me-Pull-Ewe:
We were now finished with the Trotternish Peninsula and continued on to explore the northwestern part of the island. We went to Dunvegan Castle but opted not to go inside for the tour. It was getting late, and we were more interested in trying to find the seals that we had heard lived in the area. So we drove past the castle and down an even narrower road and were able to see a few seals on an island in the middle of the loch. I took this picture of the castle:
We spent the rest of the afternoon driving down to the town of Broadford to find a place to stop for the night.
I was excited to see a youth hostel, and in spite of Dad's assertion that "I ain't no youth," I insisted that we at least check it out. It turned out to be a wonderful bargain that more than offset the splurge from the night before. We got a 6-bed room to ourselves at a rate of 12 pounds per adult and 9 pounds per kid. The room was simple but clean and comfortable:
All around Scotland, I wanted to get a picture of my dad in front of one particular street sign. In Broadford, I finally got my chance. I call this one "Hey, Papa Boyd! What's your sign?"
Labels: Scotland
Monday, July 05, 2004
The Scotland Report: Installment V
We arrived in Portree on the Isle of Skye shortly before lunch on Saturday. The sleepy little town that I was expecting was brimming with activity! We had inadvertently arrived on the day of the 4th Annual Isle of Skye Pipe Band Festival.
We stopped by the tourist office, but the workers there were not optimistic about our chances of finding lodging in town for Saturday night. Apparently, almost every bed was taken up by folks who were in for the festival. We walked around town for a bit in the blustery weather and stopped in at a couple of places. One hotel that we stopped at was booked up, but the clerk called the Rosedale Hotel on our behalf and sent us over to look at what were probably the last 2 rooms left in town.
The Rosedale was our big splurge, but even so it proved to be quite reasonable under the circumstances. The normal charge was 40 pounds per person, but they only charged us 10 pounds for each of the kids for a total charge of 100 pounds for the night.
After we got the luggage into our rooms, we still had a few hours to kill before all the bands from the festival were due to come together in one location for an ensemble performance. Daddy and I went out and brought back fish and chips (and a hamburger for Annabelle) from the takeaway around the corner, and we enjoyed a quick lunch in the hotel lounge. Then we set out to do some exploring.
We walked through town for a bit and poked around in various shops. I was standing in line at a bookstore waiting to pay for my book (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time--very good book; I strongly recommend it!), when Dad called out excitedly from the sidewalk. He had spotted the pipe bands just up the road!
We walked up to the parking lot where they were performing individually and enjoyed quite a show. About an hour later, we wandered back down to the town square to wait for them to come together for the big performance. The wind was biting cold, but we were determined to stick it out. Finally, one after another the bands marched down the street, filed into the square, and lined up side by side. We forgot the cold in the excitement of standing so close to that many bagpipes. Here's one band as they marched into the square:
After the performance, I took pictures of the kids with pipers and drummers:
I even managed to get into one picture:
Finally we escaped the cold by ducking into an Indian restaurant for a hearty supper. After supper, we headed to the Skye Gathering Hall for a ceilidh, which seems to be the Scottish equivalent of a hoedown. This was not a professionally choreographed event put on for the benefit of tourists; this was the people of Portree getting together for a fun time on a Saturday night, and it was without a doubt the high point of the whole trip, at least for me. (Annabelle would disagree, as she suffered through the bagpipes with her fingers stuffed firmly in her ears.)
We sat at a table with an elderly couple from upstate New York who had come to watch their grandson performing in the festival. Families congregated at tables surrounding the dance floor, and one guitar and a couple of accordions provided much of the music. After about an hour, the local pipe band marched in unannounced, now wearing polos and T-shirts with their kilts. Their song? "When the Saints Go Marching In."
By 11:00 p.m., Annabelle was near tears from the blasting pipes and from sheer exhaustion. So we left much earlier than we would have liked, but Dad and I both heard bagpipes going strong at midnight.
I took some video shots, both of the pipe band performance and of the ceilidh. I had to shoot at a very low resolution, however, or I wouldn't have had enough room on my memory stick. So the video itself isn't very good, but it gives you a pretty good idea of what it sounded like along with a grainy view of the action. I've assembled them all into an album at Sony's Image Station, which you can access by clicking here. Make sure your speakers are turned up really, really loud.
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We stopped by the tourist office, but the workers there were not optimistic about our chances of finding lodging in town for Saturday night. Apparently, almost every bed was taken up by folks who were in for the festival. We walked around town for a bit in the blustery weather and stopped in at a couple of places. One hotel that we stopped at was booked up, but the clerk called the Rosedale Hotel on our behalf and sent us over to look at what were probably the last 2 rooms left in town.
The Rosedale was our big splurge, but even so it proved to be quite reasonable under the circumstances. The normal charge was 40 pounds per person, but they only charged us 10 pounds for each of the kids for a total charge of 100 pounds for the night.
After we got the luggage into our rooms, we still had a few hours to kill before all the bands from the festival were due to come together in one location for an ensemble performance. Daddy and I went out and brought back fish and chips (and a hamburger for Annabelle) from the takeaway around the corner, and we enjoyed a quick lunch in the hotel lounge. Then we set out to do some exploring.
We walked through town for a bit and poked around in various shops. I was standing in line at a bookstore waiting to pay for my book (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time--very good book; I strongly recommend it!), when Dad called out excitedly from the sidewalk. He had spotted the pipe bands just up the road!
We walked up to the parking lot where they were performing individually and enjoyed quite a show. About an hour later, we wandered back down to the town square to wait for them to come together for the big performance. The wind was biting cold, but we were determined to stick it out. Finally, one after another the bands marched down the street, filed into the square, and lined up side by side. We forgot the cold in the excitement of standing so close to that many bagpipes. Here's one band as they marched into the square:
After the performance, I took pictures of the kids with pipers and drummers:
I even managed to get into one picture:
Finally we escaped the cold by ducking into an Indian restaurant for a hearty supper. After supper, we headed to the Skye Gathering Hall for a ceilidh, which seems to be the Scottish equivalent of a hoedown. This was not a professionally choreographed event put on for the benefit of tourists; this was the people of Portree getting together for a fun time on a Saturday night, and it was without a doubt the high point of the whole trip, at least for me. (Annabelle would disagree, as she suffered through the bagpipes with her fingers stuffed firmly in her ears.)
We sat at a table with an elderly couple from upstate New York who had come to watch their grandson performing in the festival. Families congregated at tables surrounding the dance floor, and one guitar and a couple of accordions provided much of the music. After about an hour, the local pipe band marched in unannounced, now wearing polos and T-shirts with their kilts. Their song? "When the Saints Go Marching In."
By 11:00 p.m., Annabelle was near tears from the blasting pipes and from sheer exhaustion. So we left much earlier than we would have liked, but Dad and I both heard bagpipes going strong at midnight.
I took some video shots, both of the pipe band performance and of the ceilidh. I had to shoot at a very low resolution, however, or I wouldn't have had enough room on my memory stick. So the video itself isn't very good, but it gives you a pretty good idea of what it sounded like along with a grainy view of the action. I've assembled them all into an album at Sony's Image Station, which you can access by clicking here. Make sure your speakers are turned up really, really loud.
Labels: Scotland
The Scotland Report: Installment IV
When we awoke Saturday morning, the pleasant weather that had greeted our arrival in Plockton the previous day was gone. Word on the street was that a gale was blowing in, and we were eager to be over the bridge and safely on the Isle of Skye before that happened.
On our way out of town, we passed through the teeny tiny town of Duirinish (population 21), just west of Plockton. Dad stopped the car so I could get out and get the picture I had been longing for of one of the many longhaired highland cattle that roam freely through the area:
Just after I finished taking the cow's picture, these sheep wandered by:
From Duirinish, we headed south to Eilean Donan Castle:
I stopped on the bridge to take a picture of Dad and the kids with the castle in the background, and a Dutch tourist stepped up and offered to take a picture of the 4 of us:
We had a great time exploring the castle, which is much better preserved than Urquhart Castle. Many of the rooms are set up with furniture, and the kitchen has quite an exhibit of mannequins and fake food to demonstrate castle life of long ago.
I went back and forth with myself over whether or not to put the next part in, but I've decided that I will even though it is a bit of a downer. As we were leaving the castle grounds, we saw the aftermath of a motorcycle accident at the entrance. One bike was standing at the side of the road, another was lying in the middle, and an ambulance was there as well. We saw them loading one person into the ambulance, but the ambulance did not appear to be in a hurry to take off. There was also a tarp near the second ambulance with what could only have been the second rider underneath.
I can't think of anything terribly profound to say about the wreck. I had no sudden insights into the meaning of life, only a sudden jolt of reality to think that one minute you can be cruising through life enjoying the scenery, and the next minute you're under a tarp in front of one of the most photographed castles in Scotland. Also, I felt so sad for the riders' loved ones who were going to get some awful news very soon, news that I already knew.
Within minutes, however, we were paying our toll and crossing the bridge onto the Isle of Skye, about to embark on the most memorable day of the whole vacation.
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On our way out of town, we passed through the teeny tiny town of Duirinish (population 21), just west of Plockton. Dad stopped the car so I could get out and get the picture I had been longing for of one of the many longhaired highland cattle that roam freely through the area:
Just after I finished taking the cow's picture, these sheep wandered by:
From Duirinish, we headed south to Eilean Donan Castle:
I stopped on the bridge to take a picture of Dad and the kids with the castle in the background, and a Dutch tourist stepped up and offered to take a picture of the 4 of us:
We had a great time exploring the castle, which is much better preserved than Urquhart Castle. Many of the rooms are set up with furniture, and the kitchen has quite an exhibit of mannequins and fake food to demonstrate castle life of long ago.
I went back and forth with myself over whether or not to put the next part in, but I've decided that I will even though it is a bit of a downer. As we were leaving the castle grounds, we saw the aftermath of a motorcycle accident at the entrance. One bike was standing at the side of the road, another was lying in the middle, and an ambulance was there as well. We saw them loading one person into the ambulance, but the ambulance did not appear to be in a hurry to take off. There was also a tarp near the second ambulance with what could only have been the second rider underneath.
I can't think of anything terribly profound to say about the wreck. I had no sudden insights into the meaning of life, only a sudden jolt of reality to think that one minute you can be cruising through life enjoying the scenery, and the next minute you're under a tarp in front of one of the most photographed castles in Scotland. Also, I felt so sad for the riders' loved ones who were going to get some awful news very soon, news that I already knew.
Within minutes, however, we were paying our toll and crossing the bridge onto the Isle of Skye, about to embark on the most memorable day of the whole vacation.
Labels: Scotland
Friday, July 02, 2004
The Scotland Report: Installment III
Back to Scotland and to Urquhart Castle . . .
When you visit the castle, you enter the grounds through a visitors' center. We opted to hang out and see the 8-minute film on the castle's history before going outside, and we were very glad we did. At the end of the film, the screen lifted and the curtains parted, giving us a breathtaking panoramic view of the castle and the loch.
After the film, we zipped up our rain jackets and headed out to explore the castle grounds:
Once we got down to the castle, we all climbed up to the top of the tower you see in the picture above, and I was able to get a shot of the general overview of the ruin itself:
We had planned to go to Ullapool, a small fishing village to the north, the next day, but our hostesses said, "Oh, you simply must take the children to Plockton to see the seals!" We didn't have enough time to do both and still spend much time on the Isle of Skye, so Friday morning we headed off to Plockton.
The scenery along the road was truly amazing. We saw sheep in just about every field and a number of quaint little cottages with gardens like this:
For much of the drive the road was nothing more than a single lane with occasional wide spots to allow passing. Daddy pulled into one such wide spot so that I could get out and take a picture of this island near Plockton:
In Plockton we had our one and only day of truly glorious weather, and I'm sure that colored our perception of the town in general. Annabelle declared that she liked this part of Scotland much better than the rainy part.
Plockton is a tiny little village on the shores of Loch Carron. It looks as if one might use the word "sleepy" to describe it, but it's really not. The town is brimming with activity, and ever since it served as the set for filming of the BBC's Hamish MacBeth series, more and more tourists have been coming.
We drove past a herd of shaggy highland cattle that were grazing unfenced on the outskirts of town and made our way down to the waterfront. One of the first things we saw was a dog who was clever enough to be responsible for his own walks. As the saying goes, "Retriever, heel thyself":
The B&Bs along the main drag were filled, so we hurried up a side street to find a room. We wound up at a bed and breakfast run by Mrs. Janet MacKenzie, where we had 2 double rooms for 80 pounds total. Here's a picture of the front of the house and its garden:
Once we found our room, we hurried back down to the waterfront to catch the 2:00 p.m. seal-watching trip. When we got there, we discovered that the boat wouldn't be leaving for until 2:30, so we passed the time by talking to a local man, Geoffrey Malcolm Salt, who had recently published a book of his life stories. The next morning I bought a copy of his book, which he signed for me:
Finally it was time to get on the boat. Our skipper was Callum MacKenzie (pictured below with his first mate), who runs daily tours to look at the seals. Callum guarantees seals and doesn't collect payment until some are spotted.
Callum gave the kids on board an opportunity to drive the boat. Annabelle passed, but Mike happily took him up on the offer:
On our way out to the seals, we passed by Duncraig Castle:
We did indeed get to see quite a few seals, much to the delight of the kids. I enjoyed having the chance to play with the zoom on my new camera:
After our seal hunt, we got fish and chips from Grumpy's Takeaway and enjoyed them at a picnic table down by the beach before heading back to our B&B.
We had trouble getting to sleep that night, as the beautiful weather made the lateness of the sunset that much more dramatic. Here's the view from the room I shared with Annabelle, taken early Friday afternoon:
And here's the same view taken at 11:00 that night:
Next time: the Isle of Skye . . .
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When you visit the castle, you enter the grounds through a visitors' center. We opted to hang out and see the 8-minute film on the castle's history before going outside, and we were very glad we did. At the end of the film, the screen lifted and the curtains parted, giving us a breathtaking panoramic view of the castle and the loch.
After the film, we zipped up our rain jackets and headed out to explore the castle grounds:
Once we got down to the castle, we all climbed up to the top of the tower you see in the picture above, and I was able to get a shot of the general overview of the ruin itself:
We had planned to go to Ullapool, a small fishing village to the north, the next day, but our hostesses said, "Oh, you simply must take the children to Plockton to see the seals!" We didn't have enough time to do both and still spend much time on the Isle of Skye, so Friday morning we headed off to Plockton.
The scenery along the road was truly amazing. We saw sheep in just about every field and a number of quaint little cottages with gardens like this:
For much of the drive the road was nothing more than a single lane with occasional wide spots to allow passing. Daddy pulled into one such wide spot so that I could get out and take a picture of this island near Plockton:
In Plockton we had our one and only day of truly glorious weather, and I'm sure that colored our perception of the town in general. Annabelle declared that she liked this part of Scotland much better than the rainy part.
Plockton is a tiny little village on the shores of Loch Carron. It looks as if one might use the word "sleepy" to describe it, but it's really not. The town is brimming with activity, and ever since it served as the set for filming of the BBC's Hamish MacBeth series, more and more tourists have been coming.
We drove past a herd of shaggy highland cattle that were grazing unfenced on the outskirts of town and made our way down to the waterfront. One of the first things we saw was a dog who was clever enough to be responsible for his own walks. As the saying goes, "Retriever, heel thyself":
The B&Bs along the main drag were filled, so we hurried up a side street to find a room. We wound up at a bed and breakfast run by Mrs. Janet MacKenzie, where we had 2 double rooms for 80 pounds total. Here's a picture of the front of the house and its garden:
Once we found our room, we hurried back down to the waterfront to catch the 2:00 p.m. seal-watching trip. When we got there, we discovered that the boat wouldn't be leaving for until 2:30, so we passed the time by talking to a local man, Geoffrey Malcolm Salt, who had recently published a book of his life stories. The next morning I bought a copy of his book, which he signed for me:
Finally it was time to get on the boat. Our skipper was Callum MacKenzie (pictured below with his first mate), who runs daily tours to look at the seals. Callum guarantees seals and doesn't collect payment until some are spotted.
Callum gave the kids on board an opportunity to drive the boat. Annabelle passed, but Mike happily took him up on the offer:
On our way out to the seals, we passed by Duncraig Castle:
We did indeed get to see quite a few seals, much to the delight of the kids. I enjoyed having the chance to play with the zoom on my new camera:
After our seal hunt, we got fish and chips from Grumpy's Takeaway and enjoyed them at a picnic table down by the beach before heading back to our B&B.
We had trouble getting to sleep that night, as the beautiful weather made the lateness of the sunset that much more dramatic. Here's the view from the room I shared with Annabelle, taken early Friday afternoon:
And here's the same view taken at 11:00 that night:
Next time: the Isle of Skye . . .
Labels: Scotland
Thursday, July 01, 2004
The Scotland Report: Installment II
Before I go into our day at Loch Ness, I want to share a little running joke that kept us smiling for many of the 700+ miles we covered last week.
Daddy had sat next to a Scotsman on the plane up from Germany and had mentioned something about a "lake." "Ees naw ah lake, ees ah LOCH," the Scotsman declared adamantly. That became our standard line.
When somebody later mused, "I wonder what body of water that is," somebody else would pipe up: "Ees naw ah body, ees ah booty!"
Mention the cat back home, and somebody was sure to correct you: "Ees naw ah Eddie, ees ah Oodie!"
OK, on to Loch Ness!
The drive from Fort William to the little town of Drumnadrochit was mercifully short compared to the trek the previous day, no more than 2 hours door to door. The weather, on the other hand, was a perfect replica of the day before: rainy, rainy, rainy, and cold.
Our B&B in Drum, Springburn, was run by 2 middle-aged ladies named Dot and Sheila. Our rooms (88 pounds total--$160) weren't ready when we arrived, but they were happy to let us leave our bags there. They even gave us loaner umbrellas from their porch to keep us dry on the short hike down to the monster exhibition.
The exhibit itself was quite well done, but we spent the most time in the gift shop at the end of the presentation. I managed to corner the market in stuffed Nessies, and the kids enjoyed posing with this giant monster (for the record, I didn't buy the hats):
I take my political humor where I find it, so imagine my delight upon seeing this sketch hanging on the wall of the gift shop:
Food at the exhibit cafe was pretty pricey, so we headed for the Drum Takeaway, which is located adjacent to the local grocery store, for lunch. If you're ever looking for (relatively) cheap food in Scotland, look for a takeaway. They're good sources for fish and chips, burgers, and all sort of kebabs. Dad and Annabelle found their lunch at the grocery store, but Mike and I got delicious kebabs for a total of 6 pounds (which is almost $11 and, now that I convert it, not as cheap as I thought--still, it was much cheaper than the alternatives). Here's the lovely Drum Takeaway:
After lunch we drove a couple miles down the lake--whoops! excuse me, I mean "loch"--to the remains of Urquhart Castle. I would love to post my photos of the castle here, but I've been trying for hours and Blogger appears to be having some technical difficulties with photo uploading this evening. So I'm going to go ahead and call it a night and post what I've already written. I promise to take care of the castle tomorrow, so check back then.
In the meantime, why don't you go monster hunting yourself?
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Daddy had sat next to a Scotsman on the plane up from Germany and had mentioned something about a "lake." "Ees naw ah lake, ees ah LOCH," the Scotsman declared adamantly. That became our standard line.
When somebody later mused, "I wonder what body of water that is," somebody else would pipe up: "Ees naw ah body, ees ah booty!"
Mention the cat back home, and somebody was sure to correct you: "Ees naw ah Eddie, ees ah Oodie!"
OK, on to Loch Ness!
The drive from Fort William to the little town of Drumnadrochit was mercifully short compared to the trek the previous day, no more than 2 hours door to door. The weather, on the other hand, was a perfect replica of the day before: rainy, rainy, rainy, and cold.
Our B&B in Drum, Springburn, was run by 2 middle-aged ladies named Dot and Sheila. Our rooms (88 pounds total--$160) weren't ready when we arrived, but they were happy to let us leave our bags there. They even gave us loaner umbrellas from their porch to keep us dry on the short hike down to the monster exhibition.
The exhibit itself was quite well done, but we spent the most time in the gift shop at the end of the presentation. I managed to corner the market in stuffed Nessies, and the kids enjoyed posing with this giant monster (for the record, I didn't buy the hats):
I take my political humor where I find it, so imagine my delight upon seeing this sketch hanging on the wall of the gift shop:
Food at the exhibit cafe was pretty pricey, so we headed for the Drum Takeaway, which is located adjacent to the local grocery store, for lunch. If you're ever looking for (relatively) cheap food in Scotland, look for a takeaway. They're good sources for fish and chips, burgers, and all sort of kebabs. Dad and Annabelle found their lunch at the grocery store, but Mike and I got delicious kebabs for a total of 6 pounds (which is almost $11 and, now that I convert it, not as cheap as I thought--still, it was much cheaper than the alternatives). Here's the lovely Drum Takeaway:
After lunch we drove a couple miles down the lake--whoops! excuse me, I mean "loch"--to the remains of Urquhart Castle. I would love to post my photos of the castle here, but I've been trying for hours and Blogger appears to be having some technical difficulties with photo uploading this evening. So I'm going to go ahead and call it a night and post what I've already written. I promise to take care of the castle tomorrow, so check back then.
In the meantime, why don't you go monster hunting yourself?
Labels: Scotland
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
The Scotland Report: Installment I
We left Germany on the evening of Tuesday, June 22, on a Ryanair flight from Frankfurt-Hahn. Ryanair is an Irish budget-airline that has carved out quite a market share for itself by offering cheap flights into and out of obscure airports. Hahn, for example, is about as much a part of Frankfurt as Lake Helen is a part of Orlando. Still, the tickets were cheap enough--100 euro each roundtrip. (One hundred euro is currently $122; however, note the new currency converter in my list of links if you're reading this sometime in the future when the dollar sucks even worse than it currently does.)
After an uneventful 90-minute flight, we landed at Glasgow-Prestwick (with "Prestwick" being the name of the actual town and "Glasgow" being the major city an hour away that people have actually heard of). The Prestwick location was fine by us though, as we had booked a room in a dormitory at an agricultural college in nearby Ayr.
When we arrived at Wilson Hall, we weren't sure how to go about checking in. I asked some students who were hanging out in the TV lounge, and one volunteered to go get the "warden" for us. I'd never stayed in a facility with a warden before (well, except for that one time, but those records were expunged long ago), so I was curious to see how this would turn out.
Our room was definitely on the spartan side of things, but it cost only 46 pounds (roughly $84) and included breakfast. We had two twin beds and a set of bunks for the kids. The ladies' bathroom was just down the hall, but the boys had to go down to the floor below. Here are the kids settling into their beds:
The next morning we had breakfast in the refectory. Annabelle ate Rice Krispies while the rest of us dined on scrambled eggs, bacon, and baked beans, which apparently are quite common on Scottish breakfast tables.
After breakfast we left Ayr and headed north toward Fort William. Dad did a great job with the driving, but the ride was quite the thriller. Our first challenge was negotiating around the edges of Glasgow proper and getting across the Clyde River. Our second challenge was skirting the shores of Loch Lomond without getting mowed over by the lunatic drivers heading the other direction in our lane. Keep to the left, people! I can backseat drive only one car at a time, you know.
We reached Fort William, which is a charming little town, in the early afternoon. Unfortunately, the weather was most disagreeable--cold and rainy and just generally yucky. We bundled up in our jackets and raced from shop to shop, trying to stay as dry and warm as possible:
Our first stop in Fort William was at the local office for the National Tourism Board. For the price of 3 pounds, the tourism board will book you into a hotel or bed-and-breakfast. We wound up staying in a little bed-and-breakfast called Corrie Duff for 66 pounds ($120). I introduced Dad and the kids to the joys of Indian food for supper that night, and we were in our beds fast asleep by 9:00 p.m., exhausted from our shivery afternoon.
The next morning we enjoyed our bacon, eggs, and beans and then headed off in the rain for Drumnadrochit on the shores of Loch Ness. To be continued . . .
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After an uneventful 90-minute flight, we landed at Glasgow-Prestwick (with "Prestwick" being the name of the actual town and "Glasgow" being the major city an hour away that people have actually heard of). The Prestwick location was fine by us though, as we had booked a room in a dormitory at an agricultural college in nearby Ayr.
When we arrived at Wilson Hall, we weren't sure how to go about checking in. I asked some students who were hanging out in the TV lounge, and one volunteered to go get the "warden" for us. I'd never stayed in a facility with a warden before (well, except for that one time, but those records were expunged long ago), so I was curious to see how this would turn out.
Our room was definitely on the spartan side of things, but it cost only 46 pounds (roughly $84) and included breakfast. We had two twin beds and a set of bunks for the kids. The ladies' bathroom was just down the hall, but the boys had to go down to the floor below. Here are the kids settling into their beds:
The next morning we had breakfast in the refectory. Annabelle ate Rice Krispies while the rest of us dined on scrambled eggs, bacon, and baked beans, which apparently are quite common on Scottish breakfast tables.
After breakfast we left Ayr and headed north toward Fort William. Dad did a great job with the driving, but the ride was quite the thriller. Our first challenge was negotiating around the edges of Glasgow proper and getting across the Clyde River. Our second challenge was skirting the shores of Loch Lomond without getting mowed over by the lunatic drivers heading the other direction in our lane. Keep to the left, people! I can backseat drive only one car at a time, you know.
We reached Fort William, which is a charming little town, in the early afternoon. Unfortunately, the weather was most disagreeable--cold and rainy and just generally yucky. We bundled up in our jackets and raced from shop to shop, trying to stay as dry and warm as possible:
Our first stop in Fort William was at the local office for the National Tourism Board. For the price of 3 pounds, the tourism board will book you into a hotel or bed-and-breakfast. We wound up staying in a little bed-and-breakfast called Corrie Duff for 66 pounds ($120). I introduced Dad and the kids to the joys of Indian food for supper that night, and we were in our beds fast asleep by 9:00 p.m., exhausted from our shivery afternoon.
The next morning we enjoyed our bacon, eggs, and beans and then headed off in the rain for Drumnadrochit on the shores of Loch Ness. To be continued . . .
Labels: Scotland
Saturday, June 26, 2004
Greetings from Scotland! This is the first time I've been on a computer since last Tuesday, and it's like breathing air after a very long dry spell. Unfortunately, I have only 8 minutes left on my session here at the Portree visitor center on the Isle of Skye, so this will be a quickie. I'm having trouble sending email, so:
Mom--we're at the Rosedale Hotel in rooms 10 and 16. Number from the States is 011-44-1478613131. We'll be out most of the evening at the pipeband festival.
Don and Mary--so glad you've got your email up and running again! I tried answering, but this time I was the one having problems sending.
Phil and Amy and Rebecca--thinking of you guys lots and lots! Be strong. Phil, stay safe. Amy and Rebecca, I'll see you on Wednesday.
Fred--hope all is well with you. The lack of internet access for following the world news is about to drive me crazy. Love ya! Kids say to tell you that we miss you a lot and they will neomail you in a few days.
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Mom--we're at the Rosedale Hotel in rooms 10 and 16. Number from the States is 011-44-1478613131. We'll be out most of the evening at the pipeband festival.
Don and Mary--so glad you've got your email up and running again! I tried answering, but this time I was the one having problems sending.
Phil and Amy and Rebecca--thinking of you guys lots and lots! Be strong. Phil, stay safe. Amy and Rebecca, I'll see you on Wednesday.
Fred--hope all is well with you. The lack of internet access for following the world news is about to drive me crazy. Love ya! Kids say to tell you that we miss you a lot and they will neomail you in a few days.
Labels: Scotland
