2018 Scotland - Whiskey, Goats and Stirling

We've been fortunate with our hosts on this trip. It's much nicer to share a cup of coffee and conversation with someone than to be running from hotel to hotel. We were talking with Wayne this morning until nearly 10, when we realized we'd better get moving before we had to be in Edinburgh. 

We again changed our plans, deciding to skip a walk at Killiecrankie (although I'm still totally intrigued by the name) and head a few miles north to tour the Blair Athol distillery. Neither of us are big scotch aficionados, but as Wayne pointed out, people are going to ask if we visited a distillery and it was easier to go than explain why not.

The tour was interesting. I learned things I'd never realized I should know, and the building smelled like rising dough. The chemistry of the process and the giant, bubbling fermenters and 2-stage distilling apparatus were cool and nudged a few long-dormant brain cells. At the end we were offered a tasting of 12 year old single malt scotch, but I passed because I was driving. I just enjoyed the fumes instead.

Our next (and unplanned) stop was the fault of a highway sign promising homemade ice cream at the Stewart Tower Dairy. We needed to investigate. And we can attest that it was good.

Stewart Tower itself!

Our big destination for the day was Stirling Castle. We drove by the William Wallace Monument first, but passed on the £10 opportunity to see his sword and climb the 200+ steps to the top.

The site of Stirling Castle has been occupied since at least 1110, but legend has it that it was associated with King Arthur and the round table. The original buildings were torn down on the orders of Robert the Bruce after he conquered the castle at the Battle of Brannockburn in 1314. His grandson, Robert II, returned to the site roughly 50 years later and began new construction. But most of current structures and fortifications date from the 15th and 16th century during building campaigns by the Scottish kings Jameses IV, V and VI.

Robert the Bruce stands watch outside the castle gates.

Queen Anne's gardens are lovely. The world's oldest football (think World Cup), made of leather and a pig's bladder, was unearthed here.

The palace.

The Renaissance style palace was built by James V on 1502. His daughter, Mary, Queen of Scots, was brought to Stirling for her protection after James V died young, and spent her childhood here.

The Chapel Royal, built in 7 months for baptism of James VI's son, Henry.

The Great Hall, site of banquets and celebrations.

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After James VI went to England to succeed Elizabeth I as James I of England, Stirling was no longer a full-time royal domicile and it became primarily a military post. It was used at various times as a prison, and as a fortress during the Jacobite uprisings. By 1800 it was operating as a military barracks under the auspices of the War Office. 

In 1964 the military departed and an extensive restoration and renovation was undertaken to restore the castle complex to its former splendour. It's considered the best castle in Scotland, and did not disappoint. 

Tonight we are at last in Edinburgh.

2018 Scotland - Cattle, Battle, Dogs and Fiddles

We had a nice chat with William this morning and asked whether he raised his Cheviot sheep for wool or meat. They are destined for the table. He explained that the fleece of Scottish sheep is not really profitable, about 50P per fleece. It's coarse and not practical for jumpers (sweaters) and such. It's usually shipped to China and India for use in rugs and carpets. He does shear his sheep, though, "because it's the kind thing to do, isn't it?" (The wool of unshorn sheep will keep growing and matt into heavy dreadlocks.)

William told us that Scottish sheep farmers are concerned about the effects of Brexit upon their livelihood. The French, for example, love Scottish lamb. But without the EU protections , there will be more competition from New Zealand and Australia.

We were relieved we did not have a fire in the bunkhouse last night, because we did not see the handy escape procedure until this morning!

We completely revised our initial plans for today and decided to drive up the western side of Loch Ness and through Inverness to see the Culloden  Battlefield. This was on Lydia's original Scotland must-see list, but it didn't seem to fit in at first. 

On the way, we were excited to spot a small flock of Scottish Highland cattle on the side of the road. Characterized by long horns, long wavy coat and  inscrutable eyes behind a curtain of bangs, they are the cutest cows imaginable. Their long coats help protect them in the winter. They are raised principally for meat.

We drove the length of Loch Ness with several glimpses of the water from the road, but none of Nessie. We didn't stop for a good search, though, as we were focused on our next destination.

On April 16, 1746, Culloden was the site of the last battle on British soil, and the death knell for the Jacobite uprising led by Bonnie Prince Charlie. The battle lasted only 40 minutes. The Jacobites were both outmanned and outclassed by the superior forces and weaponry of the George II supporters. Like Civil War sites in the US, Culloden Moor is preserved with a few memorial sites and quiet places to reflect. There is also a modern interactive visitor's center that walks you through the history leading up to the battle.

Memorial cairn at Culloden 

Markers commemorate the graves of the clans.

This old croft house was used as a hospital after the battle.

We had rearranged our itinerary both to see Culloden and to visit a working sheepdog demonstration that we'd heard about from a couple we'd meet on Skye. The demonstration was at 4 pm. Our host last night, William, was very keen to learn more about this when we mentioned it to him this morning and asked us to let him know how it is. He uses three dogs on his farm.

The Leault Farm in Kincraig is typically bucolic Scottish countryside: hilly, rocky, sparsely dotted with sheep and a rare farm structure. The trainer's two sons, around 8 and 12, directed us to park and collected £5 each. Dogs and some unperturbed lambs (we later learned they are orphaned lambs that are being handfed) wandered around the area until Neil Ross pulled up in his truck. As soon as they heard the truck, the dogs leapt to attention and quickly surrounded their trainer when he got out of the truck.

Resting up until the boss arrives.

The demonstration was great. Neil introduced the 11 border collies he was working with today (he has about 2 dozen trained), which included a 20 week puppy that participated with great enthusiasm although not yet trained. 

The sheep spend the winters about 30 miles away, free ranging in the highlands. They are rounded up in the spring, separated according to owner and turned out to graze on the farms. They are sheared in June and July, a process that takes a farm several weeks. As William had told us, the pelts are shipped to Asia. It takes 4 or 5 years for the sheep to reach market size, so the sheep are herded back into the hills in the fall, then cycle through again. Neil said that the meat of a sheep is worth £50 while the wool perhaps £3.

Nell used a system of shrill whistles to signal and direct his dogs through their paces. Each knows its own signal, plus the cues directing what they should do. They were eager, attentive and responsive. Those not being directed would lay down or trot among the spectators until they heard their signal.

Three dogs were sent over the hills and returned shortly with a group of sheep, darting back and forth to pick up stragglers.

The shepherd's crook is used to pull a sheep out of the scrum, hooking over its horn.

The sheep became totally passive when turned on its back.

Lydia took a turn at shearing the sheep.

And on to Ballinluig, a small village near Pitlochry.

We arrived at our Airbnb to find the house empty. I called, and Wayne was there in 10 minutes to welcome us with tea and some some gourmet cookies from the chocolatier where his wife works. He invited us to join him and his son, Liam, at a weekly session of traditional music at a "wee historic town" 8 miles away. I said yes, Lydia decided to pass. So I am writing this part of the blog in the bar of the Royal Dunkeld Hotel, enjoying a half point of hard cider. Sixteen local musicians (fiddlers, recorders, accordions, bagpipe, flute, guitars) are jamming with great precision. Wayne is playing accordion; Liam, (who teaches high school music), is playing fiddle and a guitar his grandfather made of rosewood. It's grand!

I'll try to add a link to a video later.

2018 Scotland - Skye: we take our highest road

We've been enjoying the two other young American couples sharing the B&B with us, comparing notes on experiences here and getting new ideas. We are all leaving today.

Today started out clear and breezy, perfect for walking.  Our hosts, Don and Gale (he is a photographer; she an artist) kindly lent us yet another hiking guide and provided Lydia with some waterproof boots to wear today.

Gail and Don, with some of their artwork which is displayed throughout their home.

Our destination was the Quiraing, a 6 mile walk in the northern part of the Trotternish peninsula with a 1400 foot climb and spectacular views throughout. We made a quick stop at the bakery for another stuffed roll for lunch and were off.

Everything looked so much better today that we made a couple of photo stops on the drive up.

Old Man of Storr. We'd hoped to hike here yesterday, but weather precluded that.

View looking south

The trailhead was up a steep one-lane road with the usual turnouts to allow cars to pass each other. After a few final tight switchbacks, and a lot of jockeying to fit our little car onto a create-a-space on the side of the road, we were ready to go.

And now there will be a lot of pictures. And since they are each worth a thousand words, I won't write too much. 

The main trail led straight ahead, but on Don and Gail's recommendation, we looked for a less-used trail that split off to the left and gradually climbed up (but not the cliffs in the photo above). 

It got progressively steeper. I had trekking poles, but both of us were scrambling with hands and feet by the time we made the top. The views got better and better until the first storm swept through.

At the halfway point after our second storm (bonus round: this time we had driving sleet and winds that could knock you off balance as you stepped), we climbed over a stile and started down a steep rut of a path. It quickly dropped out of site in a shoulder-deep gully and we were concerned about how difficult it would be to get down, but after two quick turns, it got considerably easier. 


The guy in the center of the screen behind Lydia shows the scope of the scenery.

Blankets of hillside heather

A rare (unverified) photo of me

Another stile 


We can see the road in the distance. Only 1.5 miles to go.

And a couple more waterfalls to ford.


Looking back.

We made it, ready for a wash up and a very late lunch. 

After stopping at the B&B to drop off the boots and trail book, we were on our way to a bunkhouse on a farm near Kyle of Lockalsh. 

Bridge connecting the Isle of Skye to the mainland

Although it was a mile or two past our turnoff to the farm, we drove on to Eileen Donan castle in Dornie. The castle was closed for the day, but we were able to cross the bridge and walk around the outside (which, we discovered, you can't do without a ticket if the castle is open).

The island on Loch Duich upon which it sits has been inhabited since at least 618, when Saint Donan lived there. The Mackenzies built a castle there in 1214. It was destroyed during the Jacobite uprising and lay in ruins for several centuries. In the early 20th century, the MacRaes rebuilt the castle according to the original plans. Learning it was a reconstruction, we decided to skip the tour tomorrow and just enjoy our free look today.

Looking east from the castle base


And west.

We are staying tonight on a farm tucked up in the hills about 8 miles off the main road, near Kyle of Lockalsh and the above-mentioned castle. It's a funky little bunkhouse building which we're sharing with a young Australian couple. According to the current owner, William, the building originally housed a family. It was then gutted and used as a cow pen. Now it's been converted into a very rustic and cozy two bedroom Airbnb unit. William no longer has cattle; he raises sheep. We were sorry to learn he has no highland cattle, but perhaps we'll come across some in the next couple of days.

It's quiet here. No Wi-Fi. No phone. No television. Quite nice. I haven't been able to post the blog for the last 3 days, but at least the writing is done.