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(>Pictures at the bottom!)
…and lots of rain, wind and cold temperatures
We owe our latest trip to Scotland to our eldest son, who was planning his wedding in the great outdoors on the Isle of Skye. But as Goethe once said: the journey is the destination! We followed this guiding principle to the letter and first explored the north-eastern counties of the English Empire, where there was already plenty to discover.
We found out that the weather was not exactly holiday-like as soon as we left the ferry in Hull (England). We looked up at the sky very sceptically: thick clouds obscured all sunlight and shortly afterwards the first fat raindrops splashed onto our car. We left the hustle and bustle of the holiday resorts along the North Sea coast behind us, with York as our first destination. It is said to have one of the best railway museums, which I (Tom) had always wanted to visit. To my (Tom’s) disappointment, the holiday mood was also in evidence in York, and there were long queues and crowds of people in front of the museum. So the museum visit was postponed until later.
In the meantime, it had become reasonably dry and with a great deal of skill, Chantal steered me out of the York traffic chaos and onto quieter side streets through the largely agricultural hinterland. Apart from this sunny period, the rain was our constant companion until we reached Hadrian’s Wall, where the Romans once built their protective wall against the barbarians living to the north. The Romans held out here for several centuries, while we continued north after spending a night at the wall; towards the barbarians. 😉
It was not far to the border with Scotland and the greater Edinburgh area. We skipped the stop at the Edinburgh campsite because the price asked for a simple pitch seemed far too high to us, which other guests probably paid willingly. Major events such as the Tattoo probably caused prices to rise to prohibitive heights, and even for simpler accommodation, prices were astronomical, which would have completely blown our travel budget.
Instead, we admired the contemporary witnesses of earlier engineering skills at Queensferry, where the Firth of Forth was once spanned to the northern part of Scotland at great expense. The countless passenger trains still thunder over the railway bridge high above the sea, while the old road bridge has been closed to private traffic and we had to take the detour over the new motorway bridge. We followed the Firth of Forth for a short while and had the opportunity to watch dolphins in Kinghorn, which kept us fascinated for a long time on the elevated beach promenade; what a beautiful experience.
In the meantime, we had arranged to meet a couple from the Panamericana tour group on the north-west coast of Scotland, where we wanted to visit the Highland Games together. So, in addition to the wedding celebration on the Isle of Skye in Lochinver, we had our second highlight and we were really looking forward to it; meeting friends on the road and experiencing some of the local culture is very rewarding.
Besides the long way, we still had enough time to plan certain extras. Why not go to Loch Ness again? Maybe this time we will discover the mysterious Nessie, which is said to live somewhere in these waters. For a closer introduction to the legend of Nessie, we wanted to visit the museum, where all kinds of artefacts and interesting facts are displayed, but this time we were shocked not by the monster from Loch Ness, but by the horrendous entrance fee. Somehow they have lost their decency or the tourists are completely exploited as ‘cash cows’ who are willing to pay anything!
Instead of Nessie, there was soon another Scottish attraction: midges! In Latin, the tiny creatures, barely 2mm in size, are called ‘Culicoides impunctatus’, which translates into English as ‘2mm of pure TERROR’! In the evening, when it was windy and raining, these monsters were still in their protective hiding places, but in the morning, when there was no wind, it was over in the peaceful and secluded forest corner. We fled our overnight accommodation and found a quieter place in the next village near the community hall, where we could finally satisfy our growling stomachs with breakfast.
No sooner had we stowed our things in the car again than the first drops fell from the sky. In the protective jeep, we climbed up to the next hill in the Highlands and in two days, we reached Lochinver on the stormy Atlantic via countless side streets. For a fair price, we were allowed to park our jeep in the car park at the community hall and were glad that it offered some protection against the stormy weather. Soon our friends joined us and the time passed quickly.
Together we enjoyed the Scottish Highlands Games on the local sports field and, we suspect, there were very few foreign visitors. Here the locals were more or less among themselves and they didn’t mind the constant wind or the rain showers; they are tough – the Scots. 🙂
The Games are characterised by a combination of old traditions and modern elements. We were particularly impressed by the throwing of various weights, the carrying of tree trunks and the throwing of a 25-kilogram weight. Of course, everything was accompanied by Scottish music and kilts. The folk dances were moved to the sports hall without further ado, as the dance floor resembled more of a slippery ice rink and no dancers were wanted on the floor.
After all the experiences we had at the Highlands Games, we went our separate ways again. Along the coast and in the coastal mountains behind us, we headed for the Isle of Skye, which we reached in the rain and stormy gusts of wind. We went to the place where we had stayed four years before, when we had been on the beach in wonderful autumnal conditions. This time, everything was a bit different. In addition to the wind and rain, we had to improvise a lot to set up our jeep horizontally for the night. In the evening, we were glad to have our heater, which provided pleasant warmth inside our camper. At that time, we had no idea that we would be back at the same place in a few days with the wedding party.
When it rained, we met the inner circle of the wedding party at the accommodation and were curious to see what would happen to us out here in the rain and wind over the next few days. Besides the groom, it was also an occasion where we met both our sons and the bride’s brother and family from Canada. Over an evening whisky, the taste of the fine drink was discussed, and in the end the weather outside played a minor role. I wish I had the Englishman’s optimism.
In any case, we were on good terms with St. Peter and it was sunny on the day of the wedding. Only the wind was a bit of a spoilsport, so that we hardly understood anything of the registrar. Nevertheless, the whole wedding ceremony outside in the fresh sea breeze and the subsequent photo shoot was a special experience. In retrospect, our son confessed that they absolutely wanted to get married outside in the wilderness and in hiking boots. A special wish that came true.
Since hiking boots were a requirement for the wedding, they had to be used accordingly the next day on a hike to Old Man of Storr, before it was time for another whisky in the evening.
After the last evening together, we let the newlyweds go for their honeymoon. We continued our journey along the coast in a southerly direction. Despite rain and stormy weather, we followed the route out to the westernmost point of the British mainland, where we covered 25 miles each way over sheep pastures and fog banks. Maybe it was just for the sake of being there; there really wasn’t anything special out there. A coffee shop with a souvenir shop, a lighthouse with a huge foghorn, rain and fog. We spotted little of the landscape behind the constantly whirring windscreen wipers and we were glad to be a little further from the coast again, where the wind didn’t constantly shake our RuGa and the rain was a little less intense.
We crossed countless mountain passes through Loch Lomond and The Trosschs N.P., where even when it rained, groups of hikers were out and about, well-dressed in thick clothing. Here we met the wedding couple again and enjoyed a day celebrating a birthday in this tourist hotspot; of course, in the rain and wind. The next day, even the campsite owner said that this year everything was different and that the midges would bite relentlessly. Great prospects!
Since we didn’t get to do enough island hopping in the western Scottish islands, we decided to switch from Campbeltown-Finger, a long tongue of land that extends far into the Irish Sea, to the Isle of Arran. The crossing on the small ferry was delayed due to the weather conditions. Nevertheless, we were confident that we would be able to cross back to the English mainland the following day and booked our ferry for the early evening.
So we still had enough time to circle the island halfway around and enjoyed the few rays of sunshine that did come through the thick clouds from time to time on this Monday. In the evening on the ferry to Ardrossan, it was no longer particularly cosy and only after the second whisky was the rocking ride somewhat bearable. After arriving, we set up our overnight camp right on the harbour area. Besides the double whisky, I (Tom) didn’t want to drive out at night on unknown roads and in unknown terrain.
At night, more and more wind came up and the rain that started was more than just heavy. The raindrops kept slapping on the pop-up roof and the wind rocked our car; both kept us from sleeping. The next morning, the cosy atmosphere was gone. The rain no longer came from top to bottom, but from right to left, and waves repeatedly splashed over the harbour wall onto the side facing away from the sea. We moved breakfast to the nearest shop, where we hoped it would be a bit calmer. While paying for the harbour car park, we were informed that the ferries were cancelled for the day due to the weather. Chantal even received a rain alarm for southern Scotland on her mobile phone! Yes, sometimes you need a bit of luck or a certain premonition, or you just get stuck somewhere.
Now time was suddenly pressing; at the end of August the second wedding celebration with friends and a wider family circle was planned in Shrewsbury. So we had to shift up a gear in the Lowlands of Scotland and neighbouring English counties and slightly accelerate our pleasure trips. Fortunately, the rain eased a little and the soaking wet roads gave way to dry sections. Road sections that were completely under water were definitely a thing of the past.
In Shrewsbury, the wedding was celebrated again extensively; in addition to the good mood in the garden, even St. Peter was in a good mood and enriched the party atmosphere with sunshine and pleasant warmth. We – Chantal and Tom – enjoyed the relaxed days around the final party. Now we also know what ‘Ceilidh’ exactly means: It is a Gaelic word and means a gathering or party where young and old celebrate and dance together. Actually a fitting end to the wedding out in the Scottish wilderness.
Two days later, we experienced another first: as grandparents, we were able to look after our grandchild for a whole day for the first time. Whether we were successful or not, we have no idea, but our grandchild has been asking for us ever since. 🙂
In the meantime, the rain had caught up with us in central England and when we said goodbye to the young family, it was not only damp from the sky. A wonderful time had come to an end and the long way back to our home in Switzerland was on the programme for us. But we were already planning further detours for this route too: we wanted to visit Antwerp (Belgium) and Bad Dürrheim in southern Germany, and attend various travel lectures.
We travelled through England in rainy weather towards the English south coast and along it to Dover. The campsite owner at Little Switzerland, where the site hangs on the steep chalk coast, smiled and said that it was currently warm and beautiful in Scotland.
On our last day on the island, the rising sun smiled at us in the morning as if not a single raindrop had ever fallen from the sky.
At the ferry terminal in Dover, light fog lay over the sea and a certain melancholy crept into our mood as we said goodbye to the island.
Maybe it needs a whisky now – a double please!
Chantal and Tom / August/September 2024
>Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator