Loch Ness (There and Back Again)

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Wednesday 18th June

We left the B&B in Edinburgh prior to breakfast being served again. I think Eileen suspects we don't really eat at all! We are taking a 12-hour coach tour through the highlands that left Edinburgh at 8.30am.

We grabbed a quick bite to eat for breakfast in a cafe near the tour office, which was also where the tour started.

The bus was full of (surprise) Americans. The coach left Edinburgh via the A8. Most of the land outside Edinburgh is flat rolling countryside, except for a couple of unusually shaped hills. Just the other side of the airport a large area of the fields were being prepared for the upcoming Royal Edinburgh Show; tents, tarpaulins, screen walls being erected and (even now) lots of parked cars.

As we headed for "Hamish's Coffee Shop" at Kilmahog, part of the Trossachs Woolen Mill (that's how it's spelt!), we could see Stirling Castle, tomorrow's destination, in the distance. As we drove into the bus parking area we passed a very large highland bull, the aforementioned Hamish.

For those who have never seen highland cattle, they look like large ambulatory doormats. Instead of the short, relatively fine hairs that standard cows sport, highland cattle have a thick mat of chunky, ropey, tan covered hair. They also have a mane of hair on top of their head, which flops forward over their eyes like an Old English sheep dog.

After we had drunk some coffee, and had a mid-morning snack, we went into the woollen mill's gift shop. Marion spotted one of the ladies at the serving counter preparing little packets of cut fruit and vegetables. Marion thought that they might be packing healthy food for children's lunchboxes. Instead, it turned out, these were packages that could be purchased and the contents fed to Hamish. As our bus pulled out, four more coaches arrived, so there was no danger of Hamish losing weight!

The tour guide was a mature lady with an easy to listen to brogue. During the trip she gave vivid descriptions of the history and background of the parts of the highland we were visiting. I was surprised that a lot of what we had seen and learnt in the Orkneys was mentioned a number of times. It would appear that a visit to the Highlands includes the Orkneys (whether the Orcadian's "up North" like it or not!). The guide also had a fairly barbed sense of humour; much of which was aimed at the Americans, who were totally unaware of most of it.

Unluckily, it began to rain lightly obscuring many of the large mountains we began wending our way between. Photography from the bus was almost impossible anyway, as the windows did not wind down and because of the dull weather it was impossible to take snaps without getting reflections from within the coach (or your lens if you placed the camera against the glass).

We stopped for a (slightly damp) photo opportunity just before we entered the "Weeping Glen of Glencoe", the site of the massacre of the MacDonald's in 1692.

Clan Donald was a huge force within the Highland clan system, of which, the MacDonalds of Glen Coe (or MacIains as they were more specifically known) were only a small part. The MacIains were constantly involved in trouble with the law and with neighbouring clans for their consistent raiding, pillaging and cattle rustling. The clan had particular trouble with neighbouring Campbell clans.

There were many Highland clans at the time who were a possible threat to the new regime in London under King William of Orange, and many who openly swore their allegiance to the deposed Stuart King - James VII. King William himself was more concerned with his war against the French King, Louis XIV. Problems in the Highlands were little more than a nuisance to him.

The order came through that the chiefs were to sign an oath of allegiance to King William by January 1, 1692. Although this oath was originally packaged with the promise of money and land for the clans, by the time it was circulated publicly the terms were much more threatening - the clans would sign the agreement or be punished with the "utmost extremity of the law".

In late January or early February 1692, the first and second companies of the Earl of Argyll's Regiment of Foot, around 120 men, under the command of Captain Robert Campbell were billeted on the MacDonalds in Glencoe, who received them in the hospitable tradition of the Highlands. Most of the regiment was recruited from the Argyll estates, but only a minority actually bore the Campbell name. Others, including many of the officers, came from the Lowlands. Captain Campbell was related by marriage to old MacIain himself and so it was natural that he should be billeted at the Chief's own house. Each morning for about two weeks, Captain Campbell visited the home of Alexander MacDonald, MacIain's youngest son, who was married to Campbell's niece, the sister of Rob Roy MacGregor. At this stage, it is not clear that Campbell knew the true nature of their mission - ostensibly the purpose of collecting the Cess tax, instituted by the Scots Parliament in 1690.

On 12 February 1692, Captain Drummond arrived. Due to his role in ensuring MacIain was late in giving his oath Drummond would not have been welcomed. Various difficulties had been engineered to ensure that MacIain did not sign on time; these included a 60 mile trek to Inveraray (the principle town of his enemies -the Campbells), and being captured by Campbell soldiers serving in an Argyll’s regiment who detained him for a day.

As Drummond was captain of the grenadiers, the 1st company of the regiment, he was the ranking officer, yet did not take command. Drummond was bearing the following instructions for Robert Campbell, from his superior officer, a Major Duncanson.


You are hereby ordered to fall upon the Rebels, the McDonalds of Glenco, and putt all to the sword under seventy. You are to have a special care that the old Fox and his sons doe upon no account escape your hands, you are to secure all the avenues that no man escape. This you are to putt in execution at fyve of the clock precisely; and by that time, or very shortly after it, I'll strive to be att you with a stronger party: If I doe not come to you att fyve, you are not to tarry for me, but to fall on. This is by the Kings speciall command, for the good & safty of the Country, that these miscreants be cutt off root and branch. See that this be putt in execution without feud or favour, else you may expect to be dealt with as one not true to King nor Government, nor a man fitt to carry Commissione in the Kings service. Expecting you will not faill in the fullfilling hereof, as you love your selfe, I subscribe these with my hand att Balicholis Feb: 12, 1692
R. Duncanson
For their Majesties service
To Capt. Robert Campbell of Glenlyon

Robert Campbell spent the evening playing cards with his unsuspecting victims and upon retiring, wished them goodnight and accepted an invitation to dine with MacIain, the chief, the following day.

Alastair MacIain was killed while trying to rise from his bed by Lt Lindsay and Ensign Lundie but his sons escaped as initially did his wife. In all, 38 men were murdered either in their homes or as they tried to flee the glen. Another 40 women and children died of exposure after their homes were burned.

Elsewhere, various members of the two companies found ways of warning their hosts. Some took insubordination further - two lieutenants, Lt Francis Farquhar and Lt Gilbert Kennedy broke their swords rather than carry out their orders. They were arrested and imprisoned, but were exonerated, released and later gave evidence for the prosecution against their superior officers.

But highland memories are long and the murders of 400 years ago still burn in the clan Donald memories. So when a new Visitor's Information Centre was built, there were outcries from the valley when the manager appointed was ...you guessed it...a Mr Campbell!

Back aboard the bus we travelled through the Glen and out the other side, being surrounded by large mountains on all sides. The views were spoilt somewhat by the rain which became quite persistent. After leaving the glen we crossed Loch Leven which was spanned by a very short bridge at a narrow point. Loch Leven is a small arm of Loch Linnhe. Once over Leven, the road ran along the shore of the tranquil Loch Linnhe. The view was breathtaking; the smooth, serene water on our left and towering mountains on the right. We were told that one of the large mountains on the right was Ben Nevis, Scotland's tallest mountain, but it was not visible being wreathed in the clouds that were dumping rain on us.

We followed the shore of Loch Linnhe for about 10 miles, the rain ceased and we lunched at a touristy restaurant stop at Fort William. There was a "whisky centre" attached and Owen and I tasted the three single malt whiskies and liqueur on offer, but didn't purchase any.

Back in the bus and in the blink of an eye, the houses of Fort William were gone and the mountains reappeared on our right (their was a valley on our left, but little of it could be seen through the trees lining the road). Our guide proceeded to tell us about the three-legged haggises that lived in the mountains and how they had one short leg so that they could comfortably circle around the mountain, the short leg being the uphill one. It was a pity that Marion yelled, "I feel my leg being pulled", because most of the Yanks were lapping it up and I was interested in what other embroidery our guide might add to the story.

We had reached a spot where Ben Nevis might be visible again. This time we could see a faint outline beyond the nearer peaks, but its top was still cloud-shrouded.

We entered the town of Spean Bridge. It was quite a picturesque town of small cottages. The bridge which gives the town its name, is a quite unremarkable reasonably old stone bridge. This bridge was quite important in past times as it was the most direct method of moving troops from the North to Fort William and hence to destinations further South.

One of the more recent reasons for visiting the town is the quite well known Commando monument. This is a statue of three commandos looking out over the land where they trained during World War 2. Inscribed on the base of the memorial are the words "United we stand."

The coach continued along the long line of lochs that slant across the northern part of Scotland from south-west to north-east. These lochs have formed along a geological fault line created tens of thousands of years ago. The sudden dropping of the ground across a fault hundreds of miles long when the pressure became too much, must've been cataclysmic for anything living nearby. The lochs at both ends of this long line (Loch Linnhe and Loch Ness) both connect to the sea, so the North of Scotland is almost an island. Our route ran along the shores of these lochs; Linnhe, Lochy, Oich (yes, there are lochs named Lochy & Oich), and finally the infamous Ness.

The sun reappeared as we alighted at our next stop, Loch Ness' most famous castle, Urquhart. The castle had a visitor's centre and our guide recommended we view the short film that was on rotation in the centre's theatre, about the history of the castle which had a "surprising end". If you do ever visit Urquhart, it is worth seeing the video for the wondrous, amazing finish (which I will not reveal here). Urquhart is more a group of jumbled ruins than an actual castle. We wandered around the stronghold's vestiges and Owen and I climbed one of the remaining ramparts for a view of the loch and surrounding mountains.

From Urquhart we boarded a ferry, the Jacobite Queen, and sailed north-east up the loch towards Inverness for some "Nessie spotting". I can reveal exclusively here that Nessie is coloured purple-blue and has three humps - see our extraordinary,
all-revealing photo!

We disembarked at Loch's End and filed back aboard the bus. Once onboard and on our way our guide posed a question, "What's the difference between the Titanic and the Jacobite Queen?". Well, we could think of many differences but the answer she was seeking was "The Titanic only sunk once." Apparently the Queen has gone down three times! No wonder the guide didn't come along for the cruise!

We continued on to Inverness, which was not a picturesque town by any stretch of the imagination, and headed back for Edinburgh by a route further to the east.

At this stage it will be necessary to mention some of our travelling companions. In front of me were two late twenty-something or early thirty-something American women who were part of a party of four. These two women had talked incessantly throughout the trip about important subjects such as Nike footwear, which movie star was going out with whichever other movie star (and whether or not the female movie star was pregnant), what they had eaten last night and many other enervating subjects. I had to continually fight to tune them out so I could hear what the guide was saying, as they paid no attention to her whatsoever. They would then spend an inordinate amount of time hypothesising about facts the guide had already covered. As an example the guide had explained that Loch Ness was connected to the Moray Firth (and hence the North Sea) via the River Ness. After we had left Inverness the two ladies in question had a 25 minute heated discussion about "whether or not the lake (Loch Ness) reached the sea." They also referred to sheep, and they were not joking, as baa-lambs!

But the crowning moment was a little later in the trip when one of the pair, obviously the intellectual, yelled out so that her friends in the next seat in front (as well as the rest of the bus) could hear: "Hey, do you know what a stile is? It's spelt S-T-I-L-E".

The other three all shook their heads in bafflement. "It's like a set of steps to get to from one field to another." Her friend then said to the others, supposing they were deaf: "Did ya hear that. It's for baa-lambs to get from one field to another."

"No", said her friend, "it's for people not baa-lambs."

Thankfully they fell asleep soon after this exchange and I bathed in the wonderful silence.

The bus passed through some more bonny countryside although the mountains were nowhere near as tall as Ben Nevis and friends back around Glen Coe but still impressive on an Australian scale. I later discovered that the mountain range we were passing through was called "The Grampians" (Obviously some Scots had settled in Victoria).

The trip back was quiet with much of the bus asleep and the tour guide having a well-deserved. The only excitement was when the driver thought he could overtake a truck and suddenly realised he wasn't going to make it prior to hitting an oncoming lorry and braked strongly and pulled in behind the original truck.

We passed fields full of baa-lambs and moo-cows including some highland cattle. We entered the city of Edinburgh from a slightly different direction so that we could see the famous Forth Bridge (it's for trains) as we crossed the Firth of Forth via a more conventional road bridge. The tour guide enthused about the bridge and explained how exciting it was when a train came along as it had to climb up the first set of inclined girders, across the flat bit on top and then down the other side, across the short flat section and then up the next incline... Fearing that some of the passengers would believe this, she then said "Actually the train runs on a flat, horizontal track set between the girders". Very disappointing really!

The Forth bridge was completed at the price of 63 dead and 461 seriously injured. It stands today as a fitting monument to the Victorian Industrial Era; Gustave Eiffel (of tower fame) and all the other guests hailing it as 'the eighth wonder of the world" at its opening in 1890.

After viewing the bridge our coach returned to Edinburgh via the (yes, you guessed it) A8, arriving at around 8.30pm.

We went to the Royal MacGregor, a pub in the Royal Mile we had discovered a couple of days ago, to try their haggis.

For reasons best known to the people running the hotel, they had instigated a new regime regarding the loos since we had been there earlier in the week. (The waiter assured us it had nothing to do with our previous visit!) Instead of just trundling down the staircase into the bowels (not literally) of the pub and using the facilities; they were being kept locked when not in use and you had to request the key which was hung on one of two hooks beside the bar. (One key for the gentlemen and the other for the ladies). Both the loos were single person, standard residential household-type plumbing.

While we looked at the menu (we weren't really studying it as we had already decided that we were going to order haggis before arriving) a gentlemen asked for the toilet key. The bar waitress looked flustered seeing that the key was not on the hook and provided him with a spare key. (Quiz question: {provide your own think music} Why would the key be missing?) You guessed it. A different male patron returned a few minutes later looking quite flustered and upset. The original key had been missing because he had been using the toilet when suddenly the door was unlocked, thrown open and he was confronted by a man preparing to get rid of some waste products. (We'll leave this discussion here, lest the above passages (taken together with the bathroom blog) make you think we really are obsessed with loos.)

Marion and I had eaten two haggises (or should that be haggi?) on our honeymoon; one had been simply delicious and the other pretty disgusting. What we were served at the Royal MacGregor had no resemblance to the meal we had consumed over 20 years before. It was presented on a plate full of sauce/gravy as a tower (see picture); the "ground floor" was the haggis, the "first floor" mashed potato and the "top floor" mashed pumpkin; and it was simply scrumptious. We had a chat with the waiter who explained that because of health and food regs, they no longer cooked the Haggis in a sheep's stomach but had to use large "sausage" skins.

Collecting the car we had the predictable difficulty of finding somewhere to park outside Eileen's B&B. We had worse trouble than usual this time and ended up quite a distance away. Owen noticed that the road repairers had left their barricades and some of their mess halfway over a perfectly good, not being worked on, parking space. Owen corrected the positioning of the barricade and kindly tidied their bits and pieces for them; a side benefit being that the parking spot was now clear, so we used it rather than parking a further 100 metres down the road late at night.

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Photos

Hamish
Hamish the cow again. Isn't he gorgeous?

Hamish
This is Hamish - a highland cow.

Weeping Glen
A view out across the Weeping Glen of Glencoe.

Weeping Glen
Another photo taken of the site of the Glencoe Massacre.

Urquhart Castle
Urquhart Castle, on the shores of Loch Ness.

Urquhart Castle
The ruins of Urquhart Castle, looking down upon Loch Ness.

Loch Ness
A photograph from Urquhart Castle across the dark waters of Loch Ness.

Urquhart Castle
Another photo of the ruined Urquhart Castle.

Jacobite Queen
The Jacobite Queen, upon which we cruised the famous Loch Ness.

Loch Ness
A view over the waters of Loch Ness.

NESSIE!
We were lucky enough to see, and photograph the famous serpent of Loch Ness!

Loch Ness
Another picture of Loch Ness.

Nessie!
We spotted a second serpent on the way back to Edinburgh - this one green. A different Species?

Haggis
Haggis, that delicious Scottish delicacy. Yum.