Advertisement
Published: April 25th 2010
Ali and Geoff
The proprietors of our bed and breakfast were wonderful hosts. It was in this kitchen that they prepared us a bountiful Scottish breakfast. Had their been any sun this room might have been nice and warm with all those windows, but it was cloudy and we nearly froze to death as we ate.Plans for this day were to be for a nice few hour drive through the Western middle Highlands of Scotland. A distillery tour, a walk along a working canal and then proceeding through the Scottish hills where the Glencoe Massacre of the Campbells took place. Throughout my months of planning this region was where I most worried about encountering snowy conditions. Even before we picked-up our rental car equipped with racing slicks I feared that going through these mountain passes and valleys could be very tricky at this time of the year. We would be passing below the looming Ben Nevis Mountain where there is snow almost all year long. Imagine the countryside where Braveheart Gibson lived with his wife before she met her untimely end, or where Duncan McLeod of Highlander chases his girlfriend through the heather or where Rob Roy Neeson scurries up steep mountains to elude the British. And we were thinking of driving through there during the worst winter in recent Scottish memory.
Waking up in this bed and breakfast reminded me of spending my first night at a girlfriend's parents' house - I didn't want to get up and make too much noise nor did
Creag Meagaidh Living Room
The night before we spent an enjoyable evening chatting with our hosts gathered around the warm woodstove in the corner of this room. I want to leave my room and maybe wake up our sleeping hosts. Unlike my late night bathroom excursion at 3:00 that morning where I thought I would freeze to death by the time I reached the commode, in the early morning the heat was turned back on in the floor tiles. I'm not sure how energy efficient that type of heating is when you are warming up such a big area, but it felt very very nice as I stripped and jumped into the hot shower. I laid my jeans on the bathroom floor to heat up while I showered.
After my shower I went across the upstairs hallway to get the kids. Naturally, they were still asleep. Once I got them going I debated heading downstairs to check on Gail and her mother. Since the proprietors also lived on the ground floor, I didn't want to make too much noise and disturb them. But fearing that Gail and Grandma might also still be sleeping, I went down to their room. They were already up and ready to go. As we waited in the downstairs’ bedroom for our kids, Geoff walked by and invited us into the back
A View from the Parking Lot
While we were clearing our windows with the makeshift scraper and as the car warmed-up, I took some time to take a few photos of Newtonmore. To the far right is tha Balavil Hotel where we ate the night before. As I stood outside I felt like I was in a scene from "The Birds" as the trees in front of me filled with nasty black crows. of the house for breakfast.
The kids showed-up a few seconds later and we all headed into the huge beautifully appointed modern kitchen and breakfast nook. Our table was inside a glass-covered Florida room where we had unobstructed views of the trees and gardens on the property. Everything was covered in a deep blanket of snow. We estimated the depth of the snow on top of a birdfeeder to be at least a foot high. Since the day was overcast with more snow threatening, we were unable to see the mountains that Geoff told us were off in the distance. As we awaited our breakfast we watched scores of birds perched in the tall trees just outside our glass cocoon. Geoff and Ali worked in the kitchen prepping our coffees, teas and juices. Tyler and I ordered Scottish breakfasts which meant Geoff and Ali had to cook up toast, bacon, sausage, eggs, mushrooms, and baked beans. We didn't wish to inconvenience them so we turned down their offer of broiled tomato. The ladies had scrambled eggs, toast with marmalade and jelly and home-made muesli.
While we ate Ali and Geoff chatted with us extolling the many virtues of
Preparing to Swoop
I love my telephoto lens. I was able to get this closer look at the flock of birds nesting in the trees above us. the Newtonmore area. There were skiing areas, hiking trails, mountain biking opportunities, canoeing and a whole host of other activities you'd never catch me ever doing. We must live in the laziest part of the world because I never see or hear of anybody in our neck of the woods participating in these extreme acts. Yet everywhere we travel in Europe and on the West Coast we see people biking, parasailing, kayaking and rollerblading. Somehow I've made it to the ripe old age of 57 without unduly risking life and limb and still feel I've had a rather enjoyable life. I'll be happy to get another 20 years or more of vicarious thrills by just traveling the globe and watch other numbnuts injure themselves.
The longer we were in Scotland the easier it seemed to understand what the locals were saying. What had once seemed like unintelligible brogues were now normal cultured voices. Ali and Geoff were wonderful hosts. No doubt because of our chattering teeth and layers of clothing they surmised we were just a tad bit cold sitting in the glass-enclosed breakfast area so they kindly brought out a couple of space heaters for us. I'm a
The Balavil Hotel
I wanted a daylight picture of the place where we ate the night before. Hard to believe there's an indoor pool inside. person that loves the cold and even I was freezing sitting there. Hence the fact that I downed three cups of the excellent English breakfast tea.
We didn't want to idle away our whole morning eating breakfast in the spacious breakfast nook. Besides, we figured it had to be warmer outside in the snow. We profusely thanked our hosts for their warm hospitality and not so warm accommodations then promised to visit again sometime soon. As I sit here writing this months later I still have very fond memories of our stay, but now realize that the odds of our ever returning are probably close to nil. We just have too many other places we haven't seen and plenty of others we really
need to return to. Months before we went to the UK when I was first booking our accommodations, the whole idea of staying in bed and breakfasts sounded novel and cheap, but when we did finally arrive in Scotland I started to have some doubts about staying in someone's home. Geoff and Ali had made us feel so welcome at
Creag Meagaidh that we were ready to move on to our next two B&B's with no further
Our B&B
The entrance to Creag Meagaidh. My room was on the second floor inside the left window. apprehension. Once we got home from our trip I made sure that I gave them a very positive review on Booking.com where I initially found out about this great place.
When we walked out to our Passat wagon there was no one else out on the street. Our car was safely ensconced in the private parking lot but covered in a thin layer of ice. A search of the glovebox and trunk resulted in our finding no ice scrapers. No doubt they too are unneeded in this land warmed by the Gulfstream. We used a plastic CD jewelbox cover to scrape off the windshield and allowed the car to warm for a good 15 minutes. Fortunately the streets were clear and the skies actually seemed to be clearing a bit.
Prior to leaving on our trip I had e-mailed the Ben Nevis Distillery enquiring about tours for this day. They wrote back saying that they normally host larger groups but they would accommodate us since I had written ahead. They asked for our approximate arrival time and when I wrote back to them they ok'd our arrival window of between 11:00-12:00. My GPS indicated a drive of less
Our Bestest Buddy
This little Garmin Nuvi was a godsend 95% of the time. It screwed-up more often than we would've liked (see what happens later this same day), but most of the time it got us over many a tricky road. This picture was taken just outside Newtonmore as we headed-up the A86 toward Fort William. Considering all the snow they had been getting, these roads were very well groomed. than an hour. Leaving the Creag Meagaidh at 10:30 allowed us to fit into that time frame.
The A86 road between Newtonmore and Fort William was a meandering route through some of the prettiest countryside we saw all trip. The surrounding countryside was cloaked in centimeters of pure-white glistening snow, yet the roads were almost as pristine as those in Germany. Somebody around here knew how to deal with a little old blizzard. The journey was so pretty we stopped countless times just to take photos.
The only planned detour on our proposed route to Fort William was to show Tyler the Commando Monument near Spean Bridge. It was in this area that World War II British commandos as well as US Rangers were trained for top secret assignments. Many of the WWII spy novels I've read took place on the property of Achnacarry Castle which is located nearby. We had seen the memorial on our previous EF trip in the summer of 2006. It looked quite a bit different on this snowy December day. Miraculously, as we got out of our car in the snow-covered parking lot the sun suddenly appeared. Looking at the pictures one might
Scotland All to Ourselves
Partly because of the weather and partly because of the holidays we drove onward with barely another soul in sight. think things suddenly warmed-up. Not a chance. A howling wicked wind stabbed us in our faces as we trudged up to the isolated monument in the middle of a sheep pasture. Despite the horrible weather and preponderance of snow, a plaque below the monument was swept clear and a bouquet of flowers lay beneath. I've since learned that a nearby footpath leads to some of the old commando training areas where troops trained under live fire and harsh winter conditions (much like those we were encountering). This was another spot where Tyler and I could have spent much more time reveling in the history of the area, but the girls were freezing and we needed to get to Ben Nevis Distillery by noon.
No sooner were we back in the car and warmed-up again than we arrived at Ben Nevis Distillery. There were a couple of other cars in the lot. I thought that maybe a few others would be joining us on our tour. When we walked in we were almost immediately made uncomfortable by a rather snooty gentleman who "greeted" us. When I told him that I had written ahead about taking a tour he said that
The Reason We Were Running Late
The landscape looked so pretty with all this snow still in the trees that I continually pulled off the road for a few seconds in order to take pictures. Even though we left Creag Meagaidh with plenty of time to spare these little diversions soon put us behind schedule. it wouldn't be possible that day. They had 200 people coming in by bus. Too bad Yanks. So far, 0 for 3 on distillery tours. He allowed us to look around at some of the displays and in the gift shop. Gail and I had been through here on our EF trip and it wasn't all that exciting a tour. They could've given us 15 minutes of their time and perhaps sold a couple of bottles of Scotch at the same time. We made good use of the bathroom before deciding to leave. As we got ready to go out, the distillery man asked us where we were from. When we said "Pennsylvania" he seemed a little excited. He than told us that he had once spent a year living in Lancaster County, PA with an Amish family. Somehow this was done through his church. He then explained to us that he wrote his college thesis based on this experience. He seemed like a pretty decent, nice guy, but what was he thinking? He could've been taking us on a quick little tour of the place and also told us his story at the same time. Instead he damaged American-Scottish
Yeccch!
Our VW would get even more disgusting as time went on. Things worked out well for us however. None of the speed cameras posted throughout Britain could get a clear shot of our license. relations nearly beyond repair. I’ll never drink another Ben Nevis Scotch.
It wasn't like we didn't have any other options however. Fort William's tourism page described a series of canal locks in the center of town. After taking a little tour all around the distillery grounds, we drove toward the downtown. The skies were now sunny so we got some nice views of the highest peak in Scotland, Ben Nevis. As we drove around we were never able to find this unique canal area. I was more than a little uncomfortable driving around in downtown Fort William since every intersection appeared to be a roundabout. It was taking every ounce of my brain to remember to stay left at all times. A brochure that we had picked-up somewhere along the way indicated that there was a distillery in Oban. Typing the location into the GPS we saw that it was a mere 39 miles away. How long could that take?
Had it been summer the route that took us to the seaport of Oban might have been very beautiful. We drove along the banks of Loch Linnhe which suddenly is renamed "The Firth of Lorn" at some unmarked
point along the way. The road followed the rocky coast for mile upon mile. There wasn't much to see on the landside of our route, but out on the water we saw a couple of ferries and a few fishing vessels. In the middle of the bay there were isolated rocky islands. We passed through a couple of tiny waterside villages where boatyards full of sailboats and pleasure craft waited for the summer. The most amazing sight was the total absence of snow in this region. Apparently the Gulfstream still had enough warmth to keep this western part of Scotland somewhat temperate.
Our trip of less than 40 miles took us over an hour and a half. The two-lane road allowed limited passing opportunities so we were at the mercy of slow-moving lorries almost the entire trip. When we reached the outskirts of Oban I once again got a little apprehensive about driving in city traffic. And true to form, my Nuvi maps were slightly off so that we passed by the distillery twice before seeing where it actually was. Trying to find a parking space was also a pain. I was almost ready to quit when somebody spotted
No Parking, but Plenty of Off-Road Walking Permitted
The pull-off areas on most of the roads were unplowed, but we were able to pull-off here for another photo op. I have no idea why there were so many footsteps in the snow out here in nowhereland. Hmmm, no bathroom facilities around.... a public parking lot well behind the main street. By now it was almost 3:00 pm. We hurried to the distillery hidden away on an unobtrusive side street. The entrance looked like the way into an apartment building more than an actual factory.
Almost as soon as we entered we were informed that the last tour of the day was leaving immediately and only two spots remained. The ladies obviously had no interest in going and told Tyler and I to hurry into line. They would do some shopping instead. What a noble gesture.
Our tour took us up and down the various floors of the building with easy access to all machinery within our reach. It reminded me of the Yuengling Brewery tour where you actually get to see and smell the production process. It was totally unlike the old Schaefer Brewery or the Anheuser-Busch tours where you stand high above the production area behind glass walls. This was so much better than the Ben Nevis tour we had taken back in 2006. I was amazed to learn that they employed just 7 employees and production was not a 24/7 process. In fact, Oban is one of
I Wish I Knew
I have no idea what this place was. It was an impressive gatehouse for a private residence I suppose. Google Earth says that Cluny Castle was on this road, but we don't remember any signs for it. the smallest facilities in Scotland. Unfortunately we weren’t allowed to take pictures. I guess they were afraid that Tyler and I would set up our own still back home and run them out of business. The most interesting part of the tour was the explanation of the “spirit safe”. Up until the distillation process, scotch production is almost the same as beer making. When the malt mixed with water has produced just the right amount of sugars it is sent to a big pot where it is boiled. The steam is sent through a series of coils where it cools and condenses. When this more potent liquid goes through this process it is deemed a “spirit”. As the spirits are sent through pipes toward a second distillation they pass through a sealed case that is kept closed by a lock from her Majesty’s Customs and Excise. At this point it is taxable so no one is allowed access. The spirits can be evaluated for alcohol content by instruments inside the safe, but nobody can get to them.
From there the spirits go through a second distillation. The stillman may decide for another distillation to boil off even more of the
Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Nobody was taking my picture so I felt it was time to liven up the dull white sameness of the snow with something truly spectacular. liquid depending on the strength or flavor he desires. When all is ready the Scotch goes into old wooden wine casks where it ages for at least 3 years, and usually 10-12.
Our tour concluded in a dark basement where we were given our own souvenir glass along with a couple of slurps of Scotch. Of course the experts advised us to observe the hints of oak, malt, spring water, and sunshine in the scotch. Neither of us noticed any of this, but decided that we liked the Oban Scotch better than all the other brands they also sold. The gift shop back at the entrance had scores of different brands and all kinds of merchandise. I was overwhelmed. As an early birthday present Tyler bought me a big bottle of the Oban. The ladies showed-up right at this time and informed us that they too had gotten a couple of free samples while they were waiting for us.
I would’ve liked to spend more time in Oban town itself, but it was after 4:00 and the sun was beginning to set when we returned to our car. Our GPS informed us of a 1:43 drive to our
Could it be Ardverikie Estate?
According to the pictures of the area on Google Earth, this is part of a big estate where one can rent out houses for your vacation. accommodations in Stirling. I was not only concerned about driving in the dark through the mountains of the Highlands, but since we would be headed back inland there was a possibility of snow driving through the mountain valleys.
Gail told me she had seen an interesting Roman-style building on top of the hill behind our parking lot. I remembered reading that a Victorian-age folly resembling the Roman Coliseum had been built in Oban at the turn of the Twentieth Century. The structure was commissioned by the wealthy, philanthropic banker, John Stuart McCaig. He decided to build it in order to provide work to the unemployed stonemasons of Oban and to give the community an art museum, but he died before its completion and work stopped. Today it looks like a finished Stonehenge or unfinished Coliseum.
We tried to find a road leading up to the hill with the folly, but because of one way streets and wacky street patterns, we had to drive far past the structure seeking a way up the hill. We finally found a way up the hill, but couldn’t find the building or any signs directing us there. We finally gave up when we
reached the summit of a high hill and couldn’t find the pseudo Coliseum. I assumed at this point that we were now on the opposite side of Oban and fairly near the road we had driven in on. I punched in the address of our B&B in Stirling and saw that the Nuvi would get us there by 6:00. We then proceeded to follow the GPS’ directions.
We were led in the direction of the setting sun continuing uphill on a slowly narrowing road. What had been a two lane road gradually became just one car width as we headed farther and farther away from the residential section. Soon we were driving on twisty partially snow-covered roads that took us through sheep and cow fields. No one else was on the road which seemed a good thing because any approaching traffic would never get by. The farther we drove the worse the road got. There were no road signs for any villages or even crossroads. The roads became slicker as we began to descend. I knew we were in serious trouble when we crossed a rickety wooden bridge onto a packed dirt road. We crossed a metal cattle guard
Yet Another Unscheduled Stop
After that stop at the gatehouse we were just getting up to speed when I saw a big loch through the trees. It seems like I stop to take a picture of every body of water I pass. Here went ten more minutes. and said goodbye to the last lonely farmhouse.
After going about a mile on this road we encountered a road surface totally covered with packed snow. The road dipped and climbed every few feet as we followed alongside a swift-running creek. As the sun began to set on us we tried to make our way up another hill. This time our bald summer tires failed us. We tried and tried to get up the 15 foot hill but even after backing up and trying a running start we could only go halfway up the rise. At this point I began to consider how we were going to keep warm that night in the car as we sat stuck in the middle of nowhere. Somehow I was able to turn the car around without getting stuck. We crossed our fingers and held our breath as we gunned the engine and hoped for the best. Going back we had to climb back up those same hills we had descended a short while before. At one point a flock of sheep decided to cross the road in front of us as we revved the engine in an effort to fight through the
Loch Laggan
This huge lake turned out to be Loch Laggan, the scene of the British TV series, "Monarch of the Glen" - a show I never heard of but which the people on our EF trip in 2006 constantly went on about. Now that I looked it up on Wikipedia I see that the gatehouse I stopped at is called "Ardverikie House" and is also featured on that highbrow TV show that I have no interest in. snow and inch back up a hill. Like aquarium fish they senesed our coming and somehow managed to scurry enmasse out of our way.
We finally breathed a sigh of relief when we saw a car going up the road ahead of us. Soon we saw a cluster of homes and realized we were back in civilization. By the time we made our way back to the starting point in downtown Oban, it was just after 5:00. For some reason there was still a vestige of sunlight as we headed ESE on the A85. As night decended on us my old age night blindness made the long trek to Stirling seem much more treacherous than it probably was. The ride felt like it took hours but was actually less than two. We passed a number of little hamlets and big reservoirs which we were only aware of because of the map display on the GPS. It was darker than dark all along this road but thankfully there was no snow and all roads were clear. Alas, we never did get a chance to see Gelncoe in the daylight or even at night - we passes far South of it.
Now I Know What This Was
We had no idea at the time that we made our little photo pitstop, but internet research reveals that this is part of the Ardverikie Complex and probaly the home that hosted Queen Victoria and Prince Albert for a whole month before she bought Balmoral Castle elsewhere in Scotland. As we neared Stirling we could make out its well-lit castle perched high above the town miles before getting anywhere near. As per usual we made a couple of wrong turns and had a few problems righting our course toward the B&B because of one way streets. Still we arrived at the
Castlecroft Bed and Breakfast by 7:30. We would be staying here just below Stirling Castle for the next two nights.
Our hostess, Laura, greeted us at the door as we entered. She showed us all around the spacious house which featured a gigantic comfy living room. A computer with internet access sat right by the stairs leading to our rooms. Each of our rooms were big with full-size beds and generous bathrooms. We had teapots and tea in each room as well as nice flat screen TVs with cable. Laura also gave us the password for her internet server so that we could use our own laptops. After telling us when breakfast was served and offering a few dinner recommendations, we went back out to our car to hopefully get something to eat before the restaurants closed for the night. We had never even considered stopping for lunch and
The Last of Many Shots Taken at Loch Laggan
While readers of this blog may already be yawning over far too many photos for this short drive of about 20 miles, rest assured that I seriously culled my library. This picture remains because it gives an idea of the immensity of this lake. Loch Laggan has the largest freshwater beach in the United Kingdom. A lot of good that must be if the water is freezing year 'round. now we were famished.
I don’t know what we would have done without the Nuvi, but even with it we kept getting lost. The streets of Stirling confused the heck out of us. We passed the same corner three times in our search to find the area of the old town where Gail and I had had lunch back in 2006. We passed a number of open pubs as we circled round and round, but we were trying to reach the pedestrian zone of the midtown where we remembered seeing many restaurants. We couldn’t find anywhere to park in the area where the brightest neon lights seemed to be situated. On our fourth or fifth time around the pedestrian zone we just decided to park a few blocks away on a steep, dark street then walked downhill to the traffic-free area.
Trying to get a consensus on where to eat with our group can be a study in frustration. Up until now I pretty much decided where we’d eat and too bad if nobody liked it. In Stirling I had not planned on where we’d go. When we reached that somewhat dead pedestrian zone we hemmed and hawed
No, Not Sunrise or Sunset
Up this far North the sun never appears overhead in the winter. This was 11:00 am and the sun never rose much higher above the horizon than this during our entire vacation. In fact, this was one of the few times we even saw sunshine.edit delete about eating at the Mexican resrtaurant vs the steakhouse vs the corner pub. We finally agreed on the latter. When we walked into “Number 2 Baker Street”, every eye in the place was on us. We found nice comfortable seats at a big table, took off our coats and picked-up the menus on the table. Before we could decide on what we wanted a barmaid came by and informed us that the kitchen was closed.
That resulted in a twenty minute walk all around the downtown as we searched for an available restaurant. There was nothing open. I did spot a Chinese restaurant but knew that nobody wanted to eat there. When we came upon a fancy Indian restaurant named “Taj Mahal”, I made the decision for the group that we were going in. As far as I could see, we had no other choice. Gail and her mother were afraid the food would be too spicy, but we arranged to get them food they could stomach. Tyler and Cassie felt that the hotter the better. Tyler has become quite the Indian foodie so he ordered our Kingfisher beers and a big wad of Naan bread. We ravenously tore
Does This Remind Anyone Else of Those Pictures at Mt, Everest?
We finally made it to the Commando Monument near Spean Bridge. We are looking up from the parking lot to the monument. It wasn't as nasty a trek as it looks. into it and it was gone in a minute. Gail and I had Chicken Masala which we both loved. In the end I think we all got rather satisfying meals and no one went to bed hungry. In retrospect it seemed like the most Christmassy restaurant we ate in during the whole trip. It was very dark inside with colored lights casting the only illumination. It was warm and cozy despite the frigid outdoor temperature.
We wasted little time returning to our car because it had gotten very cold again. After stopping for just a minute to take a nightime picture of Stirling Castle, we returned to Castlecroft. We were all supposed to meet in the big living room after briefly using our bathrooms, but when I went back out there a half hour later, nobody was around. I went back to my room and watched Tyler’s favorite game show, “The Big Fat Quiz Show” before calling it a night at 11:00. What a wild group!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.265s; Tpl: 0.021s; cc: 24; qc: 98; dbt: 0.159s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.4mb
