Skye's the Limit
'Sing me a song of a lass that is gone, say, could that lass be I?
Merry of soul she sailed on a dais, over the sea to Skye'
The Outlander theme was played at least 8 times a day. Every day.
Sunday the 19th: Mom was hoping to see puffins before we started driving northward, but, unfortunately, we missed the ferry heading out to the islands, and it got back too late, so we began meandering our way up to the Isle of Skye. First stop was Dunstaffnage Castle, a fortress built by the MacDuougall family in 1220. It's one of Scotland's oldest castles, was captured by Robert the Bruce and then given to the Campbell clan by James III. The vantage point, mainly chosen because you'd have plenty of heads up if you were going to be attacked, is now just a pretty view.
The next castle we side-tracked to was Castle Stalker, another Monty Python connection as it was the Castle Aaaaaaarrrrrrggggghhhh, the final castle Arthur made it to in search of the grail, only to find yet another Frenchman. My favourite trivia bit is that it passed from the Clan Stewart to Campbell Clan in 1620 in a drunken wager. How Scottish is that? The tide was super low so I managed to step in a few more puddles trying to get a decent shot of the place. I'd just hopped back into the car when it began to rain.
There's a loch called Loch Lochy - so basically Lakey Lake, that just makes me happy.
Driving up, mom and I played probably the longest version of 'the alphabet game' ever. We were stuck on 'B' for 10 minutes and if it wasn't for that 'antique store's' Q, it would have never ended. The clouds continued to claw their way down the mountain and drain the colour from the grass as the sky became thick and grey. The view out the windshield looked like a faded photo.
As we rounded one of the corners, we could see Eliean Donan Castle, one of the most famous and most photographed castles ever. Very similar history to other Scottish castles, blown up during the Jacobite rebellion so either side couldn't use it as a stronghold, however, afterwards it was then was rebuilt by the MacCrae family. It has a long history as a setting of clan warfare and revolution, but then, castles aren't exactly built for peace time. Most of the castle is comparatively modern and guesswork, based on what was left of the ruin, but certain features of the original were discovered, like a few secret spy holes from where you could observe and hear the people in the great hall. Upon hearing we were Canadian, the guide pointed out that the roof timber were imported from MacCraes living in Canada. There's also a table with a dedication to LCol John McCrae, the author of 'Flanders Fields' who was distantly related to Lcol John MacCrae, the man who began the rebuilding of the castle. It's really neat seeing the family connections that are so integral to Scottish culture, we had talked in our Renaissance class how their form of government was based on family groups rather than any regional loyalties.
ps. many more photos of the castle under the Scotland Travel gallery
By the time we got up to our hostel on the very northern tip of the Isle, the wind was shrieking and rain was coming down in buckets, I don't know how people can live here!
Monday the 20th
Ok, I get it. In the morning, the sun was out and the landscape was breathtaking. We were overlooking a harbour and the mountains around us were lit up beautifully. A 5 minute drive away was the fairy glen, a big rock formation which people have added to, making rock circles, hearts and towers, adding to the atmosphere of the place. The serenity of it didn't exactly last long. The weather report had said no rain. The weather report lied. The mythology around fairies, particularly the Scottish stories always makes fairy's to be a bit more mischievous and spiteful than what we would think, but given their weather, that feeling that something supernatural is out to get you makes perfect sense. One second it was beautiful sunshine, the next it was pouring down rain again. We learnt that the trick is in timing, drive while it's raining, get out and look when it's sunny again.
Sheep are EVERYWHERE! The entire island is populated by sheep and Bed and Breakfasts. That's it.
We looked at waterfalls, Quiraings, ruin castles and lots of sheep. After lunch in Portree, we hiked up to the Old Man of Storr, a giant rock needle, backset by the Trotternish Mountain Range. Apparently, a viking treasure hoard was found in this area a while back, and 'Storr' is a Norse word meaning 'Great Man,' making the name a bit repeatedly redundant by repeating itself. 'Skye' itself apparently comes from the Norse words for 'cloud island' and since we watched the sky darken and the clouds roll in over the ocean, the name still suits. The wind began picking up and the rain became louder but we managed to make it to the top and back down without too many slips. The view from the top was amazing, and I'm planning to print the photo I got up there on a giant print because I love it so much, but by they time we were back at the bottom the clouds had completely hidden the whole landscape.
Once you drive out of this tiny villages spotting the countryside, the road snakes through expanses of feral lands without a soul to be seen. It feels raw and untamed. This sweeping scenery has gone unchanged, and the transitory presence of tourists will go unmarked. I remember Uncle Pete once telling me a story of an old Yukoner who was asked by reporters how he managed to live up North when it was so cold in winter. He answers, 'I love the cold, without it, everyone would live here!' I feel like the Isle of Skye is a very similar situation. The weather wards off many and leaves Skye's untouched wildness as one of the most beautiful places in the world.