Isle of Skye

Last weekend a group of us from school went to the Isle of Skye. (Since I will likely use their names from hereafter without explanation, those who went are Steffi, who set it all up, Stephen, Katie, and also Katie's brother Nate.)

The roads to get there are very twisty and mostly two lane highways. According to GPS calculations we should have made it in 4-5 hours, but it took at least 6. Unfortunately we arrived well after dark. I got out of the car, knowing the cottage was right on the coast, saying I bet the view was going to be fantastic, but at that moment we really couldn't see anything.

Our wee cottage was adorable. More like a cabin in it's decor of open rafters and pine paneling. It slept six people and even had a little loft space which we dubbed the tea loft.

Nate with his tea in the 'tea loft.'

This is the view from our cottage. It was on the southern most peninsula, called Sleat which is known as 'The Garden of Skye' and our cottage was located in the teeny village of Ord. Ord is only accessible via a windy one lane road populated with sheep. It sits on the west coast of the Sleat Peninsula overlooking Loch Eishort. (Don't be fooled by the name Loch. Loch can be an inland lake or what we would call a salt water bay. This one is a bay.)

On Saturday we went to the Fairy Pools in the foothills of the Cuillins Mountains. These often crop up in lists of beautiful must-see nature from around the world. It was worth the trip.

Hi, Stephen!

It's not a bad hike, a couple miles or so. Some places you have to cross the stream using rocks, but it's not deep in those spots, so it's not scary or anything. 

Katie and Steffi fording the stream. :)

The water streams down out of the mountains and tumbles into various pools which are brilliantly clear blue. 

That's not reflected rock you see; that is rock under the shallow water. The deeper blue color is the deeper water.

'Cause we are a bit crazy, we got in them. 'Cause who doesn't want to touch the Fairy Pools?

Lest you think that water is warm, just look at Steffi's face. Polar plunge.

Katie, Steffi, and Nate completely submerged.

I really didn't have the right attire, so I just got in.

Stephen, our only Scot on the trip, ran away from us and our craziness lest he be tainted by such nonsense. :)

Then it was time to warm up with some whiskey tasting in Carbost at the Talisker Distillery. 

Don't they look so serious? Don't buy it for a minute!

I don't like whiskey. Knew that going in, and this didn't change my opinion. But I did learn a couple things. Like the craze for drinking whiskey neat is nonsense because adding water opens up the flavors. And because you should add water, it is usually cold-filtered so that it does not cloud up when water is added.

After that we went to the Gaelic College (yep, that's a thing) to pick up Steffi's friend Nat (not to be confused with Nate) and then went to Dunscaith Castle, which is now in ruins. It was built in the 13th Century. If you want to believe the colorful legend, it was built for the Celtic goddess Scathach, "the Shadowy One" and completed in one night. Dunscaith means Dun of the Shadow.

It was lovely, and did look like the stuff of legends.

To get to the castle we had to walk across a moor. The part near the coast line looked like this, potted with little pools of water and strewn with rocks:

On Sunday, we drove back to Glasgow, but we had a couple stops along the way.

One last look at our view from the cottage on a misty morning.

First we went to Eilean Donan Castle. It was first fortified in the 13th Century and changed many times over. The Macrae family restored it and has held it in private ownership since the early 1900s. 

Some proper Scottish weather we were having.

We also stopped in Glencoe, which I had visited on my trip to the Highlands last time. It was really cool to see it again after some heavy rains. There's always these streams and waterfalls coming down the mountains, but they were much bigger and faster this time.

It was a very long weekend, but a lot of fun. We saw so much that was just so beautiful. In fact we kept commenting on the awesomeness of the scenery, and realizing the inadequacy of language to express our awe, that it became a joke to just say, "It's not bad." or "It's all right." 

Kilts were involved in the making of this post.

Classes finally began this past week. In some ways it seems very similar to what classes were like in the States; just a very abbreviated, condensed semester. I am still concerned about finding something particularly useful to research while I am over here, but all I can do is keep looking into things and see what happens. My advisor seems interested in helping me sort things out and find resources so that is good.

Just before classes began, I explored a bit of the West End. I went to the Botantic Gardens. Although I didn't expect to find it in all its splendor, I wasn't all that excited about the grounds. It's clearly a popular place to sit and read or chat. Just when I was feeling a little bummed about the place, I went into one of the conservatories. It was beautiful. I was divided into zones such as desert, tropical rainforest, etc. The variety of plants and divisions of climates was really great (if at times oppressively hot!). 

After that conservatory, I went to the Kibble Palace, another conservatory in the garden. This one was more focused on artistic beauty mixing plants with sculpture. Also impressive, but I think I liked the other conservatory better.

The gardens has its own tea room. It was a gorgeous day so I sat on the patio and enjoyed tea and a scone with preserves and clotted cream. I'm a huge fan of clotted cream. :) It's hard to not feel totally civilized while enjoying your own personal pot of tea with accoutrements and a scone in a garden.

Then I window-shopped my way to the Kelvingrove Art Gallery. The West End is full of neat little shops, but I wanted to refrain from the temptation to spend money. The gallery is huge. I only went through two galleries. I was a bit worn out from all my walking up to that point, and I saw a Cezanne that just made me feel all tingly. When a painting speaks to me, I sometimes would prefer to just relish that experience and leave rather than try to see everything and in the end remember little because of trying to take in too much. Especially when I know I can go back and see more.

The central gallery. I liked the mix of classic architecture with the modern art installation.

There were quotes painted on the walls throughout the galleries and this one just made me laugh.

My latest adventure was attending a Scottish wedding reception this weekend. A friend of my flatmate who was the one getting married invited me to come along. In many ways it was very similar to an American reception, except that a bunch of the men were in kilts. I guess I should first explain that it is very typically to have the ceremony, then cocktails, then dinner, and then a reception where additional people are often invited. 

Like any wedding reception there was dancing and the bar. In Scotland people buy rounds. So most of my drinks were paid for by others, but of course I bought a round as well. There were six people in my group so that meant we drank a minimum of six drinks each. It is very hard to keep up with Scots! Thankfully they served bacon rolls and cake as well.

And, funny enough, even though about a quarter of the men there were in kilts, I mostly have pictures of them from the waist up. Oops. But here are David and Kirsty, who were surprised how nice and normal I was considering I am an American. :)

And apologies for blurriness.

The tartan comes down through your mother's line. So because David's mother was a Watson, that is the tartan he wears. Sometimes these are actual heirlooms passed through families. However, now, apparently it is just as common to rent a kilt for an event and then you would just pick one to wear. So not every tartan you see truly indicates lineage anymore.

The Loch Lomond song, which I mentioned before, was played and everyone sang and held hands and danced in and out of the circle with the bride and groom in the middle. It was a rousing affair.

And, before I forget, -- I could have sworn I said this to everyone before I left, but it seems to be forgotten -- do not buy me Christmas presents this year. Really. The Royal Mail isn't terribly good at handling mail, it seems. I won't have any room in my luggage to bring anything you would send back home, and it seems really silly to have something sent to our home address and it waits until May when I can open it. So I really don't need presents this year. Also, unless you make arrangements with Matt don't worry about the boys either. They won't be there to accept packages for most of the month.