Rushing to our next thing, the Mann clan hauled all our luggage up the street to the designated pickup spot for Timberbush tours. After being shoved out of the way by a few other families, we found our way onto the very back of the bus. A blessing, since we got to meet a few sophomores from Indonesia and Singapore studying in London. We also met a family from Cologne, Germany. More on the rude passengers later.
Steve, our guide, pointed out the graveyard guard tower which were common back in the day to prevent "resurrectionists", a particularly nasty lot, from thieving dead bodies from the ground. They sold the bodies to medical science for a hair under a full year's wage, 8 pounds for a female and 5 for a male. What a lovely job.
We drove through the rain (today's rain, tomorrow's whisky), passing Paisley which is the birthplace of the famed William Wallace- circa 1200's.
Side note: Scotland has a LOT of greenways and sidewalks. I'm a little envious.
Our first stop was the bonnie banks of Loch (lake) Lomond for a quick potty stop and photo op by the lake. This particular lake is the largest of Scotland's 31,420 lakes (seriously) and holds 13 islands: the weirdest of them having a wallaby colony, another with a nudist colony and castle ruins on another. The ducks were quite friendly, mom was having great conversations with them by the shore. At one point I was convinced the ducks would start following her.
 |
| They had purple heads |
 |
| The duck whisperer |
 |
| Loch swans. Still mean. |
Apparently the true flower of Scotland is the bluebell, a
purple flower. Who chooses the names for these things? At any rate, these
puppies cover the hillsides and make for lovely surround as if we weren’t lucky
enough with the views. These flowers were used for the ancient people called “painted
ones” which are also known as the picts. These people were interesting, they
fought in nothing but their skin tattooed with dye from the bluebells. Steve
made an important point: people haven’t changed. While they opted to put their
war badges in paint on their bodies, we are more “civilized” and used medals on
our clothes.
 |
| 100% purple |
Signs here are in Galic (from the Irish language of Gaelic)
which is the national language of Scotland. Once upon a time many years ago
Galic was threatened, as it was outlawed and punishable by death. Now about 150
people here are still fluent in Galic, and Steve noted we could easily pick
these folks out as they sort-of sang when they talked. I want to meet one and
be friends.
Side note: The West Highland Way is on my bucket list. It’s
100 miles of pure Scottish highland glory. There were quite a few folks hiking
on it today. I was a little envious. My butt was getting sore on the giant
coach bus.
We made a few stops as we started to get into the real
Scottish highlands where we got a chance to stop and chat with Steve. This was
the most shocking conversation I’ve ever had while traveling.
“Ye arr ‘mericans, rite?”
“Yep, from Georgia”
“Oh, thank God. Some o’ these travelers git off te bous snap
a few photos and get back en, then fall asleep. They don’ care ‘bout any o’ te
histrey o’ te place. You lot keep these trips alive.”
*SHOCK* Someone actually likes Americans. Us loud obnoxious
arrogant Americans. It feels good to be loved.
And going back to the super fun company we have, one
particular family with a particular nationality which will not be particularly
revealed here is particularly obnoxious. More so than us annoying ‘Mericans on
July 4th 18 beers deep.
Let’s just put it this way, regardless of what it is, they
want a photo with it. And will run anyone and anything over to get it. I kind
of want to take their camera battery and hide it… just to see what would unfold.
I’ll resist the temptation. There was a cyclist getting a picture in front of
the Commando WWII Memorial and this individual on our tour grabbed the cyclist’s
bike as he was attempting to depart, also grabbed the cyclist and pulled him in
front of the memorial. To get a picture. This happened more than once to more
than one innocent bystander. It. Is. Weird. I was nearly bulldozed by their
child several times. The little boy looooves to dart in and out of people and
especially in front of people trying to get on the bus. At least they’re good
for entertainment. Steve told us he’d be picking us up first tomorrow to assure
us the front seats since we actually care about the commentary. And we do. The
man is hilarious and his Scottish accent is the best.
 |
| Waterfalls err'where |
 |
| Random pit stop. NBD. |
 |
| More time and I would have run off into those hills... |
We passed through Rannoch Moor, an amazingly rugged and
gorgeous place. It’s wildly popular for skiing, mountain climbing, massacres,
and movies. “Skyfall” and Harry Potter movies were filmed here among about 15
others Steve rattled off. He also pointed out where Hagrid’s hut was as we sped
by at warp speed in our coach van. The man drives like a maniac (read: efficiently). I like him
even more.
 |
| "Skyfall" territory |
Glencoe is the actual host of the 1692 massacre of 38 people
in the MacDonald clan who are now buried on a loch-locked isle. This was during
the time of the Jacobite uprisings, Jacobites being those who supported the
Catholic house of Stewart in power. The Protestants, brought on by John Knox,
supported a Holland King named William of Orange. William liked war. The red
coats and Campbell clan militia, William supporters, came up to the highlands
to pay the Jacobites a visit. The highland code dictates that highlanders are always hospitable, even to their enemies.
It sounds similar to the southern culture that still survives some places but
is rare to find. “What ‘choo need, honey? I’m gonna feed ya. You look thin.
Want some butter ‘n biscuits? Some sweet tea?”
At any rate, these highlanders were taken advantage of, the
Scottish Trojan horse so to speak. The Campbell clan tried to warn them, but
they were betrayed. Men were ruthlessly slain and their women and families were
left to flee into the mountains during the winter, left to starve or die of
hypothermia. Scotland is peaceful place.
 |
| Glencoe |
 |
| “Mountains are always called sisters. I doon’ know why.” |
 |
| Ferns? |
We stopped for lunch which was a delicious tomato soup (they
do tomatoes RIGHT here) and a few shots of whisky. I talked to the woman in the
whisky shop and she showed me the weirdest
assortment of wines.
 |
| That's right: ginger wine. |
There was also a lovely soap shop with whisky honey scented
soap, Scottish raspberry and the most divine cinnamon orange soap.
We zoomed over to the Commando WWII Memorial where we had
our little cultural incident. I will say no more.
 |
| Spotted in Scotland. Only in Scotland. |
 |
| Red poppys for memorials |
Steve pointed out the “hairy coos”, also known as the
highland cattle, the oldest known breed of moo moos. Apparently we’ll meet some
later this week. Yay moo!
Scotland is a mix of many different clans, a “clan pie”. It
includes the Irish Scotties (apparently the Scottish are originally Irish),
Vikings, Picts, Romans, and Normans (becoming most of the royals). It’s like a
more ancient melting pot America. Of these different sorts came about 750 clans
who loved war, drinking and the arts. The highlanders were mostly farmers and
quite religious. The clans had chiefs, who were either men or women… and the
first born son or daughter was left in command. If the first born was incapable
as deemed by mom or dad, another child was placed in charge. I bet that sibling
rivalry was fun.
They also had tacksmen, not tax, who were shipped off to a
respectable college at age 12 for 10 years to bring mathematics, language (Latin
and French), and Biblical studies back to their clans. The most common was St.
Andrews, Paris for the upscale clan, and the richest went to Rome. Oohhh fancy.
Loch Garry, another loch of a zillion, had little cages
floating around. Trout farms. Who knew. Apparently Steve did.
Arriving in Skye and dozing in and out of consciousness,
Steve told us “skye” meant cloud in Norse. It holds the name “misty isle” and
is a very trusting community. Some
people even leave their keys in their car in case their neighbor needs to
borrow it. In ATL that’s asking to die.
Zombie-status of hanger we walked, briskly I might add, to
dinner with a mother-daughter pair from China. The daughter, now studying at
Ohio State, actually went to Athens Christian High School… in Georgia. Weird
coincidence. I already forgot her name. Typical me.
 |
| More salmon for the win |
I got the pleasure to meet Scotland’s most populous
inhabitants, and most annoying, the midges. They’re ½ the size of the mosquito
with two times the nasty ‘tude, and three times the attitude. They also love to
eat people’s faces. Die little buggers, die.
They joined us while we watched the birds on the harbor.
Little snots.
 |
| This one was on top of a car |
 |
| Mom zoom in action |
 |
| On our way into town... they're everywhere. |
Side note: the shower in our B&B is like standing in the
brainchild of a rainstorm and ocean spray in 65 mph wind. It explodes.
Everywhere. It’s sort of nice, until you get pummeled in the face by the spray
of water while attempting to find the soap. Not as pleasant. The water gets hot
but by the time the misty spray reaches your body it’s already cooled off. Much
to my parent’s dismay as they will discover, this is sufficient reason for me
to avoid showers until Edinburgh.
No comments:
Post a Comment