a travelzine by Diann
tdiann@ct2.nai.net
(Copyright 1996. Please do not reprint without permission.)
^^^^^^^^^
We stopped shy of Urquhat Castle on Loch Ness for our photo-op.
We couldn't stop at U. Castle because they were now charging for the
privilege of pulling up to take pictures. I got some very murky
looking shots of Loch Ness back from the developers, and I think I
can see Nessie's backside as she breaks the surface just ever so
faintly. Everyone aboard the bus saw Nessie so many times I think
the loch requires an exterminator, the problem's gotten so bad.
We drove on to a tourist centre, collecting postcards and shots
of a fake Nessie in a pond. Looks dino-like to me.
Onwards, by some more fascinating and fabulous lochs, and then we
veered off westwards. We stopped at Eilean Donan for photos, but had no
time to tour inside the ruins. This is one of many old ruined castles, and
is supposed to be one of the most photographed locations
in Scotland. Most of us were disappointed we could not go in.
(See s_eilean.htm
for a photo of this intriguing place.)
We reached the ferry for Skye at Kyle of Lochalsh, boarded and
crossed -- a perfect day weatherwise after a murky-looking start
which had earlier added that appropriate Nessie ambiance. (The ferry has by now
been replaced by a bridge, but the bridge was not yet in service at
that time.) There was a smaller ruins, Castle Moil, (which again we could not tour) near
where the ferry left us off on Skye.
Skye had a desolate ambiance; various mountains of differing
geologic types (shoulda taken notes...) rising up. Our tour guide
kindly told us what they all were, but as I said, I didn't take notes.
We stopped for lunch just shy of Portree; and stayed for a
presentation on the history of the isle. It was a good place, and the
weather was perfect, but
eventually we had to move on. Since we spent so long there, we didn't
have a chance at Portree proper. (Check out s_skye.htm
for a photo taken from here.)
We retraced out steps, back to the mainland of Scotland. During the ferry
ride back I snapped the photo which is here as s_kyle.htm,
a view of a ferry coming the other direction, with the Kyle of Lochalsh in
the background.
We stopped once again at Eilean Donan, to obtain more photos of the ruins
from a different angle and with different lighting, standing down at
water's edge at low tide.
We stopped by Ben Nevis, the
largest mountain in Britain. Sheep grazed around us as we looked up at the
cloud-crowned mountain. And, then on to Fort William.
Our bus broke into three groups, for three different hotels, the first
of which was a lovely place just shy of Fort William.
They don't have large hotels in these parts, evidently. This first was
isolated from everything, but was simply gorgeous, with a good view of
the surrounding terrain. Would have loved
to have stayed there. I got placed in the Rob Roy, in the heart
of Fort William, which might have had the advantage of being in the
center of things -- but one I'd have readily traded away. Many of us
were disappointed anyway that our coach had split up, regardless of
the place. We liked being together.
The best thing about this hotel was the view of the harbor out
the bathroom window, and this indeed was good. The rooms were all right, but
it was mainly the dining facilities that seemed problematic to me.
The food was okay, sort of. I selected venison stew, and it was
chewy, gristly, and uninspired. The beverage service did not exist.
(Some at our table asked twice.) Three of us wandered the
town for a short bit -- the weather had turned markedly chilly, a
rather unusual sensation for me in these past few months. Shortly before
dinner, bag pipers had piped down the cobblestone street outside our hotel.
Fort William seems to be an interesting town with charm.
Reached Inverary, and saw the Castle there. Actually, we had
ourselves a rebellion -- the bus had stopped by the town, and the
guide assumed we'd shop and get our lunches in the town. Naw, we all
wanted Castle. We'd had our fill of driving past castles without
going inside, barely getting photo-ops. So we essentially all walked
the 15 minutes up to the castle, including one woman on her cane, to
pay for and tour the place on our own.
We walked through and explored, taking our own self-guided
tours. Including overhearing another tour talking about the ghost in
a bedroom -- seen and heard by Campbells of the true lineage whenever
a true lineage Campbell dies. Also, evidently seen by the true
Campbell dogs (I don't know about their lineage) who refuse to enter
the room.
Half the castle is still lived in by the Duke of Atholl and his
family. Letting visitors come through helps to pay for upkeep, taxes,
and the rest of it.
We ate in the basement; there's a simple Scots-food cafeteria
down there, with decent food.
Back on the bus, we headed for Loch Lomond, and a boat ride. It
rained a bit, but then cleared again, but the boat ride, which lasted
about 45 minutes, was worthwhile, even if the banks were more wet than bonnie.
One highlight of the boat ride was Honeymoon Isle, a small piece of real
estate with a few trees on it. The tale has it that newlywed couples were
left on the island for a week, and if one swam home before the scheduled
end, this was not a good omen for their relationship. (One friend has commented
that it would be more appropriate to find this out BEFORE the couple got
hitched...)
That was about it. I'd never done a tour before (of more than a few
hours in length), so the touring life was a new experience. The
fact that we were all conventioneers made it quite enjoyable. The tour guide
and driver were also enjoyable and informative.
Dashing past things was a bit disconcerting, but I understand the
necessity. At least I know where to return when/if I come back. When I
come back. When I come back.
Diann's Scotland Page | London |
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August 23rd:
The next morning we loaded back up into the coaches. Passed through
Glen Coe, scene of infamous treachery of the Campbell Clan against
the MacDonald clan. All was pretty quiet today. The landscape grew
more craggy, rough, and filled with Scotch mist. Indeed, it rained
off and on all day long. We passed over moors, including Rannoch
Moor, aptly described in our flier as "Lonely".
Last Updated: Friday, March 22, 1996