The Highlands - Day 3
This morning looked a lot more promising, even the clouds cleared up so that we could see the distant mountains in the harbor. We got one last look at the town square before setting off.
D was nice enough to swing by a lookout point we skipped the day before. Yesterday it had been so windy, no one made it too far from the bus before running back. This morning was a much better sight, with clear enough skies that we could see all of the surrounding mountains. These were the Cuillin Mountains, with Glen Sligachan flowing between them.
It was a gorgeous morning sight, the last of the Isle of Skye. On the way to the next stop, D tried to find us some highland cows. Only, he informed us that only us tourist call them highland cows, and the locals simply call then hairy coos. We stopped on the side of another mountain and found a small group of them, even one of each color. Apparently they were all once black, but when the queen showed a preference for the gingers, farmers began breeding for that color.
The next stop was the Five Sisters of Kintail. This was probably my favorite story, most likely because the place was so beautiful that I wanted to commit it to memory. D started off by telling us about an ancient superstition that daughters from the same family should be married off in order from oldest to youngest. If married out of order, the marriage was doomed or the other sisters remained single and whatnot. The story began with a man with six beautiful daughters, who were all of marrying age. The problem was, he was so cheap he refused to believe any man was good enough for his daughters and wouldn't marry them to any poor local man. Then one summer, a damaged Irish ship full of soldiers arrived in need of shelter, while repairs were made on their ship. Among these Irish men was a prince who met and fell in love with the youngest daughter. Wanting to spent more time with her, the prince asked her father for her hand in marriage. The father refused, stating he could not marry off his youngest without first taking care of his five older daughters. However, the prince promised if he could marry the youngest daughter, he would return to Ireland and come back in three weeks' time with his five brothers to marry his five daughters. The man thought the cost of two weddings to marry off six daughters was a bargain and agreed. The youngest daughter and the prince sailed back to Ireland and the man and his five daughters waited for the return of the prince with his brothers. Three weeks came and passed, then three months came and passed. When enough time passed for the five sisters to show their age, the man sought the help of the local Seer, who promised he could keep them young while waiting for their would-be husbands. The Seer sent the father on holiday while he worked all manner of spells and ingredients on the sisters to keep them young. When the father returned, he couldn't find his daughters anywhere and went to the local Seer. The Seer told the man his work was done and he turned the sisters into beauty everlasting. When the father turned around, he saw the five sisters turned into the five mountains (The Five Sisters of Kintail).
Then it was onward to the mythical... the legendary... Loch Ness. I don't know how big I pictured it in my mind, but I didn't expect it to be so huge. It was 23 miles long! Can't even see the whole thing at once, but we drove all along it to Fort Augustus, at the southwest end of the loch. We stopped there for lunch with Nessie (or at least, I'd like to think so). The village was also host to lock gates that transfer boats from the Caledonian Canal. I had never seen loch gates in person, so that was neat to see too. Pedro and I had some pretty good burgers for lunch and were told our next stop would involve whisky (woo!)
We walked around the cathedral, but at that point the ground was frozen under our feet and it was almost dark, so we decided to go back to the bus. When we left D, he gave us a CD of all the cool songs and tales he played for us along with his stories. Hopefully we get a car with a CD player, because we have no way to listen to it otherwise. On the way out, I also snapped a picture of the map he referred to all throughout the trip to give us an idea of where we were and the routes we were taking. We covered some ground!
The Highlands is one of the five areas of Scotland that produces single malt scotch. The Dalwhinnie Distillery was built in 1897 and went through many owners and remodels before it become the building we visited. Pedro and I tried some of the single malt at different years. Mine tasted like an apple orchard, while his tasted like the Scottish summer grass (or so we were told- Pedro's tasted like pure ethanol to me).
This was the last highland place and last official stop.
We stopped once more for a snack break before we met up with a another bus to take us back to Glasgow while D took the others back to Edinburgh. He admitted there wasn't much here, but pointed out an old half built cathedral. It was being built just before the reformation of churches across Scotland and remained unfinished.
When we got back to Glasgow, I was surprised to see snow on the ground, a good two inches! Of course when we leave, it snows enough to stick to the ground. (Eh, the trip was worth it) We were slipping everywhere the walkways weren't salted, but I was still not over the novelty of it all and was giddy the whole walk home.
