Scotland 2007, Day 10, Thurso to the Isle of Skye

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Sunday, August 5th - Thurso to the Isle of Skye:

This was pretty much a driving day- about 240 miles I believe. We stopped every hour or less and stretched our legs and took pictures. We stopped at Betty Hill and mom and I picked out the house we were going to buy (it overlooked Torrisdale Bay). We also stopped and took pictures of Loch Eriboll. The scenery was beautiful, so between that and the fact that none of us could keep our eyes opened, the drive was over pretty quickly. We were amused that Margie would mention that we were going to be seeing beautiful scenery and to enjoy it, and then she would put “Scottish Tranquility” into the cd player. Everyone was asleep within 20 minutes. Mom's theory is that she would do this whenever the “kids” would start to get too rowdy. Knocked them right out.

We stopped at Ullapool and, despite the fact that I had actually eaten the night before, I was starving and decided to eat lunch for once. I was the typical American and ordered a Cheeseburger (which arrived with carrots mashed up in the mayo) while everyone else ate what Margie called the “best fish and chips in Scotland”. I ended up spending the remaining 45 minutes of our time in Ullapool in the bathroom at the restaurant Margie & Frank had warned us that the bathroom on the bus was for emergencies only and that it couldn’t be emptied and that the bus would smell bad for the trip- so I was thrilled that we had a longer than usual lunch break. Mom and John will have to recount their tales of Ullapool, because mine all center around reading messages on the bathroom stalls which were inscribed to “Western Ladies”.

The long day of driving ended when we got to Broadford in the Isle of Skye where we stayed at the Dunollie Hotel. Mom and I went out for a walk on the rocky beach and she decided to collect seashells along the way. So, being the ever helpful and loving daughter that I am, I started to scout around the rocks and “mini pools” that the lowered tide had left (I’m sure they have a name, but I don’t care.) I looked ahead to where I was stepping and thought, “hey, that rock is big, I’ll step on it.” Apparently that rock didn’t appreciate the fact that I thought of it as “big” because it instantly unglued itself from the ground and I went a tumblin’. My photographer brain kicked in and said “Save the camera!” so I raised my right arm up so that my hand/camera wouldn’t hit the ground when I landed. My right leg landed in one of the moldy pools and my left leg almost made it out of the pool but basically just managed to scrape my shin along a rock. I got up and applauded myself and thought that work probably had a pool (haha) going as to when I was going to fall. Bastards. Melissa was with us and she managed to not laugh/take pictures until after I had confirmed that I was okay. I decided I was tired of the beach then and limped off to the hotel room with mom. My ankle had swollen up nicely and my left palm wasn’t too happy that I had decided to let it take most of the fall since my camera hand was busy. Swelling in the ankle went down, goose eggs appeared on my leg, and a nice deep scrape on my right arm decided to take its time on healing and got slightly infected. But the scars will always remind me of the one time I tried to be nice to my mom. A mistake I will never make again.

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