Impromtu trip to Scotland

I have told myself that, while I am on my Grand Tour, if anyone asks if I want to do something, I ought to say yes (while staying safe and legal, of course, for I am still me). Thus I found myself on a hiking trip in Scotland this past week. I was staying with friends in Northampton a few weeks ago, and one asked me if I wanted to go "walking" in Scotland with him for a few days. (They walk here, rather than hike. Not sure why, except that maybe it's because the highest point in the whole UK is 4406 feet.) So, after overstaying my welcome with my relatives (don't worry, I'll be back there in a couple of days), I took the train up to Glasgow where my friend would collect me.

I was a bit sceptical about the train at first, as it pulled into the station with no announcement ("Now arriving, train to Glasgow"), and pulled away with no announcement ("This is the train to Glasgow Central"), and most of the people on the platform didn't get on the train. I wondered if it was a scheduled train at all, or if I'd just boarded the Brigadoon Express (but Brigadoon is in Scotland, right?). I felt a little better when an announcement about the dining car was almost indecipherable given the thick Scottish accent. So I sat back, relaxed, a read a book about lions (attacks by and the hunting thereof) in Kenya in 1900 (research for the next leg of my trip, you know).

The train did take me to Scotland, and Charlie was there to pick me up (once he found the train station). I've known Charlie since we were both little, as our fathers were flatmates in Montreal a million years ago. When he was young, he was the annoying, hyperactive little brother in the family. Now he's older, but just as hyper. (It's by no means annoying though. Comical, but not annoying.) He drove me up to the hostel where we were meeting his friend, Adrian, and where we would be staying the night.

I have very little experience with Youth Hostels. I remember a small house on the California Coast when I was in high school, and a grungy apartment in Rome when I was in college. This was something all together different. We spent the night at Auchendannen House next to Loch Lomond. And by House, they mean castle. (We did have bunk beds with beastly mattresses and pillows, but the dining room was pretty impressive.)

We headed off at a reasonable hour in the morning (once the sun was up, which was about 8 am!) and went north. I gazed with wonder at the lovely hills and craggy mountains we passed. When we got to just about our destination, I giggled with disbelief at the absolute barrenness of the place. Rannach Moor had nothing, and I mean NOTHING in it. I've never seen anything like it. We stopped at the only inn/restaurant/pub/tea house, struggled to get to the door of the place through the 40-60 mph winds that had been forecast for the area, and sat by the fire with cups of tea to plan our outing.

Charlie had grand ideas of climbing one of the Munroes (any mountain over 300m is known as a Munroe). He had said earlier that he wanted to get to the top of something craggy and see the sea. There would be no seeing of the sea today. We'd be lucky to see the path we just came up, as the clouds were hanging quite low. He and Adrian had just about sorted what we would climb up (I was just along for the ride, and willing to do whatever they told me to), when our Guardian Angle, in the form of an old Scot, came up with his map saying he heard we wanted to do a circular walk, and what if we walked AROUND this mountain, rather than over it. Excellent choice, given the horizontal rain and hail that we were met with not an hour later.

So we walked-- or slogged rather-- around Buachaille Etive Beag. (I kept calling it something like beu-call-ay-lee bairg, but apparently it sounds more like byoo-call ett-iv beg. Gaelic is totally beyond me.) The first thing we had to do was ford a stream. This might have been a stream at one point, but today, with the rain pouring down, it was a raging torrent. We had two somewhat dicey fords right off, but I made it across (with assistance... my jetes are a bit weak since I haven't had ballet in a while!).

My new waterproof boots worked for about an hour, then became more water-resistant, then moved on to water-retaining. The nice thing was, though, that I didn't have to worry about keeping my feet dry any more. Good thing, as our path, when it wasn't a full on muddy bog, had a stream running down it. Please remember the sideways rain and hail I mentioned earlier. When it started to hail, I just laughed, for what else can you do when you are on the side of a mountain without a tree in sight? Although wet, I stayed warm the whole time, so no worries. Every now and again the rain would stop, so we could look up and actually see where we were going. The views then were really, really lovely.

On the return trip along the other side of the mountain we saw that the path crossed a stream three times. (We had left the path at this point and were going cross-country along the end of the mountain, cutting off a down- and then up-hill. I wasn't thrilled about this part, as it was steep, wet, and a bit windy. We eventually got back to the path, having avoided the first ford.) We decided that it was silly to ford the same stream twice, so we blazed our own trail (except they don't actually have blazes on the trails in this country-- probably because there are no trees upon which to put them-- you just follow the path of mud with the footprints in it). And then we found the reason that the trail crossed to the other side... A huge crevasse was carved into the side of the mountain by a stream. Whoops! We went to the bottom of it, where it met the other stream, and just walked into the water. (Once you're wet, who cares if you are wetter?) My boots did dry out eventually (five days later).

When we got back to the car, we made a bee-line for the nearest pub, and huddled next to their pathetic little fire. Hot chocolates all round, and one whiskey (we were in Scotland, after all). Once heated a bit we headed north up to our bunkhouse. Not a castle this time, but not bad. It did have a "drying room" for all of our stuff, which probably would have worked better had we turned on either the heater or the dehumidifier.

At dinner, both boys started to feel ill. Immediately after dinner both boys got ill. Not sure what hit them, as the only thing they'd had that I hadn't was a bag of crisps (potato chips) and a shower. (I obviously blame the shower. Good reason to avoid such things.) So Charlie's plans to hike Ben Nevis (that mountain of 4406 feet) went down the toilet (or into the bushes, as the toilet was occupied by his friend). Poor guys!

On Tuesday we walked up the valley by Ben Nevis (reaching a whopping 150 meters, we figured later), but all the while congratulating ourselves for our good decision NOT to hike up the mountain, as the winds were again at 40 mph, and snow was predicted. (We did get snow for a few minutes, even at our low altitude.) After walking for an hour, we headed to the tea shop, then drove around the countryside for a few hours.

There are a remarkable number of rainbows in Scotland, which I guess makes sense given all the rain. Poor Charlie heard me yell "STOP THE CAR!" more than once. Eventually they became commonplace, I didn't need to take any more pictures, so let Charlie drive on in peace. (My favorite was the rainbow that ended right in a lake.)

There was a lot of napping going on that afternoon when we got back to the lodge, then we went out to a seafood place for dinner. (The blokes obviously were feeling better at this point.)

Wednesday we left Adrian, and Charlie and I struck out across country, stopping at points of interested marked on his road atlas. This led us to a dilapidated house wrapped in a tarp, a stone circle in the front yard of a farm, Dewar's Distillery, and across a mountain pass. (As you can see, some points good, some a little underwhelming. By the way, no one here has heard of Dewar's, so I'm guessing it's a pretty crappy, export-only, kind of whiskey.) We had a lovely day, though, and eventually ended in Edinburgh.

(As I'm sure this post is ridiculously long already, I'll write about Edinburgh in another post, so you can go off and get a cup of tea, and then regroup when you are ready. I'll go have a cup of tea myself, and continue writing when I am ready.)