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Published: June 27th 2006
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I’m sure that everyone is dying to hear about my little romp in the Highlands, but first we must have some closing notes about Edinburgh. I won’t bore anyone with long-winded descriptions about old monuments and the like, I will just share some amusing stories (amusing to me anyways, if you get bored just scroll down).
So feeling a deep need to shriek and bury my head in a stranger’s back, I decided to join one of Edinburgh’s many “terror” walking tours, along with a truly lovely American couple that I shared a hostel room with (Hi Kate and James!). Now the walking tour itself was far from terrifying, involving the usual tales of plague outbreaks, witch burnings, and murder. Edinburgh’s narrow, cobbled streets, though, are quite creepy when being led at night by a woman in a cape. The end of the tour, however, did prove to be quite terrifying. Underneath the city streets is a network of extremely “haunted” vaults that were once home to Edinburgh’s destitute. It was into these damp, dark, vaults that we entered. Though we didn’t experience any paranormal activity, at one point I did lose vision in one eye, apparently a common occurrence
Kate and the Cow
Edinburgh is littered with these cow statues....and here I thought Vancouver's Spirit Bears and Orcas were unique... in these vaults (I’m of the opinion, however, that this was due to anxiety rather than the work of a poltergeist. We were, after all, in a chamber where 120 people were cooked alive).
This very night, I also experienced the first of many injuries that I assume will occur on this trip. While stumbling to unlock the bathroom door, a chunk of the side of my hand got caught in the mechanism and was left behind. Not an altogether serious injury, its odd location did require me to tape up my hand (which I did in the dark so as not to disturb any of my loud, snoring roommates; now you all know what a nice person I am). A taped up hand, of course, did lead to many inquiries as to the nature of this seemingly severe injury. Tired of repeating the same story, I began to answer with an invented tale of a knife fight with a monkey at the Edinburgh Zoo. Not surprisingly, this story was only believed by two Highlanders who had been drinking quite heavily for some time.
And on that note, as I realize you have all been quite patient, I
"Haunted" vault
This is not a ghost, just the only person brave enough to step into the stone circle. shall begin my tale of the mystical Isle of Skye, aptly named as here the sea makes no attempt to distinguish herself from the sky. It often seems, while perched atop on of the island’s many mountains, that one is floating above the clouds (The name ACTUALLY comes from the Gaelic for Island of Mists).
I made the decision, rather uncharacteristically, to venture into the Highlands with an organized tour. In such a remote area, I felt that the advantage of reliable transport and a knowledgeable guide far outweighed being tied to one group of people for three days. I deliberated briefly between the “Haggis” tour company and “MacBackpackers”, trying to decide which name made me laugh more, before finally realizing that “MacBackpackers” was cheaper. The name was slightly deceiving, however, as I was the only “backpacker” on the bus and though the tour was aimed at 18-30 year olds, there was in fact a group of elderly Indian women on board (and before anyone accuses me of holding racist attitudes, there is a reason that I felt it necessary to mention their racial origin, and it will become apparent later). I must add though, that these women went
running up the sides of Highland hills dressed in Saris while I, in my sturdy hiking boots and jeans, was nearly blown off on several occasions.
So with Jo, our effervescent, singing tour guide, and Jim, our dour driver who was quite prone to road rage, we set off for Pitlochry, the gateway to the Highlands. Formerly the place where the "pansy" English would leave their valuables before venturing North to face those "scary, hairy Highlanders", the town is now a quaint stop before heading into the winding mountain passes.
We passed briefly through the haunted Ruthven Barracks (I'm beginning to wonder if there is anywhere in Scotland that is NOT haunted, that I would like to see: "visit (insert funny Gaelic name), where there are NO ghosts and nothing scary ever happened"). After some photos and a wee wander, we continued our journey North, passing through Invernes (rather unremarkable), and Loch Ness (no sign of Nessie though), before finally arriving on the Isle of Skye, last remaining home of the Scottish Faeries. Before anyone gets too excited though (you know who you two are), I should mention that these are not Walt Disney Tinkerbells. The only small,
Ruthven Barracks 2
Spanish Lad in Kilt flying creatures on the island are bastardly thing called "midges". These tiny mosquitoes, after biting you, leave you coated with pheromones that sttract every other midge within a mile radius. The bites can also take up to 24 hours to become inflamed and itchy so the unwise traveller will wake up in the morning and think themselves unharmed before realizing later in the day that low rise jeans were in fact not a good choice for running around on the beach in the midnight sun. Moving on though...
The next day began with a visit to a river that claims to hold powers of youthful restoration. Standing in the pouring rain with the wind at our backs, this claim was not enough to convince us young lot to climb down and stick our heads in. After being told that it was a hangover cure, however, there was a fair race to navigate the slippery rocks. Refreshed and finally awake, we were ready to spend the rest of the day exploring the island. I will leave explanations to the photographs (which are coming, I swear), and will only comment on my favourite part of the island, Faery Glen. Standing in
the Glen, an ancient Celtic holy spot, feels like swimming through a cool emerald. Trying to seek the Faeries' favour, I left a small token of myself and asked for some respite from the rain. I was answered by a strong gust of wind and another onslaught of "liquid sunshine". They must have eventually realied my sincerity though, as on the drive back to the hostel the cloud parted and we were surrounded by several rainbows. Driving directly through a rainbow is an experience that I won't soon forget, we were envelloped by horizontal stripes of colour...incredible.
And now finally, as promised, the relevance of the Indian ladies. A group of us girls, not wanting to choke down the greasy fare on offer at the pub, decide to cook ourselves a nice supper. A vegetarian curry, we thought, would go down nicely after a day in the rain. Our recipe: put chopped vegetables and chick peas in pot along with a jar of curry sauce; simmer for a while and serve with rice. The Indian ladies, also in the kitchen and making real Indian food, caught sight of our "secret ingredient" and almost collapsed laughing at us. After their
initial shock, however, they did offer advice on the preparation of real curry. They also promised that the next time we meet they would instruct me on the making of chapatis.
Day three and it is time to leave the Highlands and begin winding our way back down to Edinburgh. A few history lessons, some stunning views, and a visit with a hairy Highland "coo", and soon find ourselves parke on the M8, where a drunk truck driver has managed to get his vehice wrapped around the column of an overpass. The bored restlessness which ensued led to a rather jovial round of "bus karaoke" (yes dear brother, we needed you there as my rendition of "O Canada" was somewhat uninteresting though at least I remembered the words).
Despite the cold rain and midges, the Highlands were one of the most beautiful spots i have ever visited and I plan to make it back there before I head home.
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Mama
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Lang may her lum reek!
Wow Gali, what can I say? This is amazing - made me laugh to much. It also makes me want to visit the Highlands - all those years there and I never made it. I do remember the midges though and they can sure get into places you don't want to talk about!! - wee buggers! Can't wait to see the photos. Arn't those highland cows amazing? Now I can say to you "and a coo flew auer the moon"!!!! :-) Missing you, Mama