I ♥ Skye

It's only 19 miles, I thought. How long could that take? At least there was a truck dispensing tea at the top of a very scenic, windy summit.

I headed north from Eyre to Uig and wound around the Trotternish peninsula.

Everything was grand in scale, except the roads, which if anything were narrower than yesterday's.

The rain brought the green.

These cows seemed unperturbed by it.

If a little annoyed by me asking them to pose.

Every bend in the road was unbearably beautiful.

Occasionally the rain stopped. I turned on BBC Scotland on the radio to entertain me, but they spent at least an hour talking about Wimbledon and then another half hour on cricket. I thought it couldn't get any more boring when they found a runner who is hoping to compete in the next summer Olympics after having a child. I was so grateful when I found a station playing folk songs.

 Why did the lamb cross the road?

Eventually I made it to Portree, which was hilly and scenic but jam packed with tourists and paid car packs with tiny parking spaces. I found free parking with wider spaces down the hill, just as it started to pour.

 Portree's most famous ladies are these pastel houses.

The rain meant a long wait at Cafe Arriba, because no one wanted to leave. It was the very definition of cosy, with generous bowls of soup, huge slices of cake, and excellent foamy cappuccino. I got the venison pie and had a long discussion about the Royal Navy's volunteer lifeboat brigade with an older gentleman and a Welsh woman with a campervan. The busiest rescue spot is of course London Bridge, a combination of foolish boaters and attempted suicides and drunken people who just fall into the Thames in the middle of the night. Now you know.

I came back to the B&B after supper, and my California neighbors, who left and said goodbye this morning, returned. They went to Dunvegan castle but made a wrong turn and wound up circling the same peninsula as me. 

Scotland makes the GPS go wrong; probably because the engineerings who make maps are back in Mountain View and Greenwich. All those signs warning "blind summit" are trying to tell us something.

the highlands road

You may take the high road, but I'll take the low speed road. Pictured is a Scottish highway.

Okay, I'm exaggerating. A little. Many of the roads on my journey are slightly wider than one lane. But they're two way, leading to a game of chicken. Driven from the wrong side, with a stick shift. 

A family I met had to choose between a ditch and a bus headed for them, across the center line. They chose the ditch.

We explored a few small towns in the Black Isle; as Lilly explained, "isle" usually doesn't mean island. In this case, it means peninsula.

 A brief stop in Fortrose at the ruins of a cathedral, where the last of the MacKenzie's clan is interred.

(Isn't that an I Love Lucy episode?)

Undeniably good bones. Then Lilly set off for home, and I headed west toward the Isle of Skye, which is actually an island.

I was so thrilled to get out of the car and find a perfect viewpoint. As I got out of the car, I heard a horrible buzzing: a bunch of German tourists with a drone. I took a few pictures, glared at them, and drove on.

 Castle for scale

Here's the brooding Scotland I was promised in Skyfall and Braveheart! None of this sunshine nonsense.

Finally. At long last, Skye.

horse lattitudes

Bow down your strong heads to taste the water.

The Kelpies is the largest sculpture of horses in the world. Standing 30 meters high, the horses are located at the Helix complex in Falkirk, by canals that today are frequented by pleasure barges.

Andy Scott spent 7 years designing the horses, modeled on two Clydesdales. (Did you know Clydesdales were Scottish?) They were assembled by a handful of people in just 90 days.

 I picked up a rental car and went on a terrific tour led by Jim which included being able to go inside.

The sketches show the full concept: kelpies are mythical creatures that take the forms of horses. If you encounter them, your hand will be stuck to the horse, and they will drag you under water to drown you and then eat you.

 They're open air, and the 900+ pieces are welded to the structure.

Afterward I drove 200 miles north to Cromarty on the Black Isle. I should add I did this driving on the left, with a stick shift, through a million roundabouts and later on one-lane country roads. It was only occasionally terrifying.

My friend Lilly described this as being like Scotland used to be. It's an adorable town, with a collection of small cottages and big mansions.

 These oil rigs are assembled here. No one is drilling in the water north of Cromarty.

 We had another day of bright sunshine. This was around 9 pm.

The beaches have pink sand. There's poetry about Cleopatra on the obelisk. The hills reminded me of Point Reyes.

It's a charming area. The house on the left reminded me of Magritte. The whole town is in bloom, with tall poppies and just past their peak roses. Did I mention there's a cheese store? We'll be sure to stop by.

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Horse Latitudes

by Jim Morrison

castle rock

I know, it's been a while. Nearly six months since my last post. I did take a couple of short trips, including one to British Columbia. But it's been a busy spring, and only now, after a fabulous family reunion at a dude ranch in the Catskills, do I have the chance to wander.

I landed in Edinburgh yesterday, my second time in Scotland if you count the day trip I took from the Lake District right after college, a million years ago. I gawked at the castle, bought a turquoise mohair throw, and gazed in shop windows, longingly.

Since then I've been to Dunedin, the most Scottish city in New Zealand, and to Nova Scotia, where unhappy Scots emigrated.

Edinburgh today is bustling. There are so many tourists and languages all around me. Also, it's sunny. This never happens.

I'm pretty wiped out from flying east, but I have walked and walked and walked and walked. Taking in architecture and cultures and a lot of tasty treats.

Yesterday I climbed a nearby hill above the city. Today, I had a delicious breakfast of bircher muesli prepared by my hostess Joi and heard from the people next door, who are from Monterey. (He plans to ask her to marry him, he confessed.)

The houses in this area of town, on the edge of Leith, look modest, but they are enormous inside, with high ceilings and staircases.

Isn't this a splendid tree?

I've had no time to breathe the past few months, so I didn't want to overprogram this trip. I'm here because a few years ago, Benjy posted a photo of Skye and I knew I had to go there. And I happened to have enough frequent flier miles to get here and back. And it's the right time of year.

(What? You didn't think I was here for the haggis, did you?) This is the National Museum of Scotland. It also looks modest, but each doorway leads to another exhibit hall. It was toasty inside today.

The museum has a rooftop terrace, with views in every direction.

Why yes, those are Andy Goldsworthy sculptures too. Even if they look like ashtrays.

Back inside, I learned some Scottish revisionism. Apparently Scots were first in flight. Scots identified red–green color blindness. And Scots invented the kaleidoscope!

The museum is excellent, with exhibits of sewing machines and musical instruments and narwhals from around the world.

This is not a teapot. It's for alcohol.

 After lunch, I hopped the bus across town to the Botanical Garden, because Janet said I had to.

They were pretty special. Also huge. I walked till my feet hurt, and my phone started to run out of juice.

 Of course there were lots of flowers. I saw a fluffy fuzzy duckling too.

 Everything is in bloom, with the sun shining from 5 am to 10 pm.

Poppies!

Something about this bench made me happy. When I die, I hope someone dedicates a bench in a lovely spot in my honor.

If you walk far enough, a treat awaits. Foxglove is everywhere.

 This section was dedicated to the Queen Mum: a Scot!

Roses as big as your head.

 The flowers in the Queen Mum's section are all blooming. inside is a house made out of shells.

Don't forget to look up.

This seems like as good a stopping place as any. Central Edinburgh has nearly as many cranes as Toronto.

Tomorrow: the Kelpies! Plus a drive north to Inverness and Cromarty. And now, to bed.

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