Sunday, May 31, 2009
Extras II for Sunday--beach friends
bird friend who landed on windowsill and stayed to listen to music:
Extras for Sunday--from beach walk
strange deposit of rocks in sedimentary layers on edge of beach:
amazing rocks on beach that looked like beached whales!
amazing rocks on beach that looked like beached whales!very interesting striating on rocks on beach:
piece of whisky bottle found on beach--from Whisky Galore ship?
Standing Stone:
Sunday, May 31--Whiskey Galore!
Things I've learned about the Uist Islands:
The Uists belonged to the Macdonalds in the past, and the South Uist people feel more connected to their clan than most other islands because the chieftain of the Macdonalds actually lived here on South Uist.
Here in the Outer Hebrides, there is rich flora with sweet green grass and a profusion of wild flowers. These areas are called “machairs,” pronounced “ma-chirs,” and are semi-natural, flower-studded grasslands on lime-rich, white shell-sands immediately behind dunes of the Atlantic seaboard. The colors of the machair change as you go through the year from yellow all the way through the other colors then to blue.
Our ferry landed yesterday in Lochmaddy. It is a busy little port, it also has a seaweed factory where the wet ‘kelp’ is dried off and reduced to powder which will later go into the making of ice cream, toothpaste and nylon fabrics. The fishermen on North Uist specialize in lobster fishing, and the lobsters are flown south for gourmets in London and the continent.
I said in the blog yesterday that the inn we are staying in was once a Change-House—a place where one could wait for the ferry when traveling between Eoligarry in Barra and South Uist. Eventually it provided food and drink and has served the island travelers for over 200 years. It was almost complete in 1746 when Prince Charles Edward Stuart (Bonnie Prince Charlie) was wandering through the land, just a few miles away. A barn that was here then now stands roofless and a bar has been added. In an old postcard picture of the inn from 1912, you can see our room window. From here you can see to Barra and glimpse the distant Dun on Stack Island.
Bonnie Prince Charles escaped first to the island of South Uist after Culloden. There is even a cave on the east coast where he hid for a time.
Benbecula provides an interesting merger between the staunchly Protestant North Uist and the Catholic church in South Uist. While religion plays a very important part in the lives of the island people, the two differing religious communities live in harmony with each other.
There is a Hill of Miracles near Geirinis with a huge Madonna statue entitled “Lady of the Isles.” It stands just under the radar station. We saw this yesterday as we passed.
The black houses here on the island are similar to the white houses on Skye but with lime-mortared walls, chimneys, and windows.
The Uists are considered a center of learning.
A mile off the coast of South Uist and five miles off Barra lies Eriskay, immortalized in song by the haunting “Eriskay Love Lilt”. It too has strong Jacobite connections: Bonnie Prince Charles landed here from France BEFORE the rebellion to win back the crown for his father. The beach he came to is still known as the Prince’s Strand (Coilleag a Phrionnia, just above the ferry terminal on Eriskay to Barra). The pink convolvulus too is called locally ‘The Prince’s Flower’ and is supposed to grow only in Eriskay. It is also claimed that Drambuie, the liqueur that dates from the 1745 rebellion, was first drunk in Eriskay. The men work mainly at fishing, as the land does not support much in the way of farming; and the women are skilled at knitting the traditional Eriskay fishermen’s jerseys with patterns like the tree of life, waves, and furrows. There are supposedly wild Eriskay ponies on the island, but we didn’t see any when we drove over the causeway to check out the ferry.
In 1941, the SS Politician sank off Eriskay near Barra, carrying 50,000 cases of bottled whisky and 290,000 ten-shilling notes aboard. Locals in the area retrieved the bottles of whisky before the excise men could get them and some of the notes have turned up over the years. A movie was shot on Barra about the incident called “Whisky Galore.” An actual bottle from the ship is now at the Politican Bar on Eriskay.
While walking on the beach at our hotel this morning, I found a piece of an old whisky bottle!!! It has a mark on the bottom, an S with a circle around it, so I prefer to think that it was there waiting for me and is from the Politician. We also saw the standing stone, but nothing is known of it.
South Uist is a long linear island, and the east coast is made up of heathery uplands and sea-lochs. The west coast is one long white sandy beach over 20 miles long. You could walk for days searching for seashells and rocks. I also found a piece of some blue and white dinnerware. It looks very old. The beach itself was an interesting place to explore archaeologically. Just to look at the edge of the beach where there were layers of rocks embedded in the peaty soil was fascinating. We found these two huge rocks with smaller rocks in their crevices that made them look like beached whales. We also found two friends—puppy friends—who came running down to the beach to hang out with us and follow us all the way back to the hotel, entertaining me with their antics.
We quickly visited Howmore and the chapels in ruins—the churches of St. Mary and St. Columba. We didn’t want to stay long because where we parked was the present church parking area and people began arriving for church services.
I love the remoteness of this area, but I’m sure I would tire of it after a while. The travel writer Ada Goodrich-Freer wrote about these islands in the 1890s in her book, “Outer Isles.” Of South Uist she wrote, “There is, thank Heaven, but one South Uist in the world, though in poverty, misery, and neglect, the island of Barra, sixteen miles south, runs it very close.” Her comments were more directed at the owner of the islands at the time than at the poor inhabitants. “South Uist is surely the most forsaken spot on God’s earth,” she wrote, and “The very existence of the island of South Uist is itself a tragedy which shames our civilization.” Well, she wasn’t one to mince words, was she?
There is a Co-operative Grocers about 10 miles away and we went there to get supplies. We also stopped off on the road to Eriskay to see where a tunnel had been dug and peat had been cut out and laid aside to dry.
Had dinner in the hotel’s dining room again. And dessert again.
Went for a walk on the beach but were driven inside by the midges as there is absolutely no wind tonight.
***pictures from top: Our inn sitting on the water’s edge—taken from Eriskay; beautifully thatched cottage; older thatched cottage; Polochar Inn—our room is on second floor, 4th from left with tipped-in window--room 33; tranquil harbor scene on way to Eriskay.
The Uists belonged to the Macdonalds in the past, and the South Uist people feel more connected to their clan than most other islands because the chieftain of the Macdonalds actually lived here on South Uist.
Here in the Outer Hebrides, there is rich flora with sweet green grass and a profusion of wild flowers. These areas are called “machairs,” pronounced “ma-chirs,” and are semi-natural, flower-studded grasslands on lime-rich, white shell-sands immediately behind dunes of the Atlantic seaboard. The colors of the machair change as you go through the year from yellow all the way through the other colors then to blue.
Our ferry landed yesterday in Lochmaddy. It is a busy little port, it also has a seaweed factory where the wet ‘kelp’ is dried off and reduced to powder which will later go into the making of ice cream, toothpaste and nylon fabrics. The fishermen on North Uist specialize in lobster fishing, and the lobsters are flown south for gourmets in London and the continent.
I said in the blog yesterday that the inn we are staying in was once a Change-House—a place where one could wait for the ferry when traveling between Eoligarry in Barra and South Uist. Eventually it provided food and drink and has served the island travelers for over 200 years. It was almost complete in 1746 when Prince Charles Edward Stuart (Bonnie Prince Charlie) was wandering through the land, just a few miles away. A barn that was here then now stands roofless and a bar has been added. In an old postcard picture of the inn from 1912, you can see our room window. From here you can see to Barra and glimpse the distant Dun on Stack Island.
Bonnie Prince Charles escaped first to the island of South Uist after Culloden. There is even a cave on the east coast where he hid for a time.
Benbecula provides an interesting merger between the staunchly Protestant North Uist and the Catholic church in South Uist. While religion plays a very important part in the lives of the island people, the two differing religious communities live in harmony with each other.
There is a Hill of Miracles near Geirinis with a huge Madonna statue entitled “Lady of the Isles.” It stands just under the radar station. We saw this yesterday as we passed.
The black houses here on the island are similar to the white houses on Skye but with lime-mortared walls, chimneys, and windows.
The Uists are considered a center of learning.
A mile off the coast of South Uist and five miles off Barra lies Eriskay, immortalized in song by the haunting “Eriskay Love Lilt”. It too has strong Jacobite connections: Bonnie Prince Charles landed here from France BEFORE the rebellion to win back the crown for his father. The beach he came to is still known as the Prince’s Strand (Coilleag a Phrionnia, just above the ferry terminal on Eriskay to Barra). The pink convolvulus too is called locally ‘The Prince’s Flower’ and is supposed to grow only in Eriskay. It is also claimed that Drambuie, the liqueur that dates from the 1745 rebellion, was first drunk in Eriskay. The men work mainly at fishing, as the land does not support much in the way of farming; and the women are skilled at knitting the traditional Eriskay fishermen’s jerseys with patterns like the tree of life, waves, and furrows. There are supposedly wild Eriskay ponies on the island, but we didn’t see any when we drove over the causeway to check out the ferry.
In 1941, the SS Politician sank off Eriskay near Barra, carrying 50,000 cases of bottled whisky and 290,000 ten-shilling notes aboard. Locals in the area retrieved the bottles of whisky before the excise men could get them and some of the notes have turned up over the years. A movie was shot on Barra about the incident called “Whisky Galore.” An actual bottle from the ship is now at the Politican Bar on Eriskay.
While walking on the beach at our hotel this morning, I found a piece of an old whisky bottle!!! It has a mark on the bottom, an S with a circle around it, so I prefer to think that it was there waiting for me and is from the Politician. We also saw the standing stone, but nothing is known of it.
South Uist is a long linear island, and the east coast is made up of heathery uplands and sea-lochs. The west coast is one long white sandy beach over 20 miles long. You could walk for days searching for seashells and rocks. I also found a piece of some blue and white dinnerware. It looks very old. The beach itself was an interesting place to explore archaeologically. Just to look at the edge of the beach where there were layers of rocks embedded in the peaty soil was fascinating. We found these two huge rocks with smaller rocks in their crevices that made them look like beached whales. We also found two friends—puppy friends—who came running down to the beach to hang out with us and follow us all the way back to the hotel, entertaining me with their antics.
We quickly visited Howmore and the chapels in ruins—the churches of St. Mary and St. Columba. We didn’t want to stay long because where we parked was the present church parking area and people began arriving for church services.
I love the remoteness of this area, but I’m sure I would tire of it after a while. The travel writer Ada Goodrich-Freer wrote about these islands in the 1890s in her book, “Outer Isles.” Of South Uist she wrote, “There is, thank Heaven, but one South Uist in the world, though in poverty, misery, and neglect, the island of Barra, sixteen miles south, runs it very close.” Her comments were more directed at the owner of the islands at the time than at the poor inhabitants. “South Uist is surely the most forsaken spot on God’s earth,” she wrote, and “The very existence of the island of South Uist is itself a tragedy which shames our civilization.” Well, she wasn’t one to mince words, was she?
There is a Co-operative Grocers about 10 miles away and we went there to get supplies. We also stopped off on the road to Eriskay to see where a tunnel had been dug and peat had been cut out and laid aside to dry.
Had dinner in the hotel’s dining room again. And dessert again.
Went for a walk on the beach but were driven inside by the midges as there is absolutely no wind tonight.
***pictures from top: Our inn sitting on the water’s edge—taken from Eriskay; beautifully thatched cottage; older thatched cottage; Polochar Inn—our room is on second floor, 4th from left with tipped-in window--room 33; tranquil harbor scene on way to Eriskay.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Now, to catch up on a few movies--Kilt Rock, Sheiling, & Storr
the wind singing at Kilt Rock (at very beginning of movie):
our Harry Potter tent, the shieling on Mull:
Ray on top of The Old Man of Storr on his second climb--this time alone:
our Harry Potter tent, the shieling on Mull:
Ray on top of The Old Man of Storr on his second climb--this time alone:
One extra photo for today--oh dear
First sight on getting off the ferry in the Uists--oh dear, we're in trouble now:
Saturday, May 30--Ferry to the Uists
I think it is so interesting how we pronounce things differently from the British. For example:
British—“Jan-your-ree” US—“Jan-you-air-ree”
British—“ord-nair-ree” US—“or-din-air-ree”
British—“seck-ret-ree” US—“seck-ret-tair-ree”
British—“Feb-roo-wee” US—“Feb-roo-air-ree”
British—“gair-edge” US—“guh-rahj”
I find myself lapsing into the British way of expressing things more and more. I told Ray to go pay at the till the other night in the café. I’ve never called the cash register the till in my entire life. “Get us a trolley,” I’ll say, when for 56 years of my life it has been a grocery cart or buggy. But I don’t think the British “shed-yule” will ever creep into my vocabulary.
I have also found a few things that I REALLY want to have when I get home. Well, if we’re being honest—shortbread cookies or jam doughnuts on demand anytime I want them, but the real list is as follows:
an automatic pull heater in the bath, like in our cottage here
a towel warmer in the bath
a white collapsible clothes hanger/drier, like in our cottage here
on-demand hot water for the shower, like we have here in the cottage
automatic windshield wipers like on our Peugeot we have now—and the cool mirrors
that turn themselves inward when you shut off the car
As you can see, I very much like our present living situation—cottage and car—and will be very sad to leave them.
We were up early and straightened up the cottage and headed to Columba for one last email check before we head into the wilds of the Outer Hebrides.
Afterwards, we drove to Uig. Uig was known for its witch population in the past. One woman was charged as being a witch as late as 1880. The small town looks Norwegian with its whitewashed houses and its prominent church on the hillside. The Fairy Glen we visited the other day is just on the edge of town. We walked around and visited the Isle of Skye Brewery Store and Uig Pottery then took a nap in the car.
Our ferry left from Uig just after 2. The Little Minch separates the Isle of Skye from the Western Isles with treacherous, strong currents and underwater rocks, but our crossing was fairly smooth. It was so clear that we were even able to see Neist Point Lighthouse as we crossed.
We landed at Lochmaddy, North Uist, and took the A867 to the A865, driving through the islands of North Uist, Benbecula, and on to South Uist. Immediately there is a difference—everything is in Gaelic with no English to help you in many cases. So I have to sound out the Gaelic and see what it sounds like in English and try to find that on the map. But sometimes the signs are in English but on the map it is in Gaelic, so I believe there is a conspiracy to confuse us.
The drive down was through land much like parts of Skye but more like Harris, looking very barren and flat except for a few outstanding mountains. Just read that the “2001: A Space Odyssey” lunar landscape scenes were filmed on the east coast of Harris, where I stayed when I came here alone in 2007. It is truly so barren that it indeed does look like the surface of the moon. The Uists aren’t that barren. In fact, North Uist was full of freshwater and sea lochs, so much so that at times, looking at the map, it made you wonder if there was any land underneath the road. There were several Otter Crossing signs as this island has a dense population of the little guys. The Western Highlands are the wettest part of Europe. There are few forests so the land becomes saturated then the moss grows very well and rots down to form layers of peat, which is used for fires. The land is kind of like a wet dessert, as a matter of fact. So I am sure that this area has good peat farming. We drove by Flora MacDonald’s birthplace and may go back tomorrow. The place in Milton near Mingarry is supposedly in ruins now.
We drove into Lochboisdale first to see if they had any good restaurants, but there was virtually nothing. Nothing! We are in such a remote area here. We drove back to the A865 and took the B888 to the inn, which is on the very tip of the southwestern end of the island.
The Polochar Inn is built on the water’s edge and has great views of the islands of Eriskay and Barra. The inn was once a change-house, the place you could wait for the ferry when traveling between South Uist and Eoligarry on Barra. The original building dates back to 1750 and retains much of its original features. It is now owned by Morag MacKinnon and Margaret Campbell who are sisters.
The name “Polochar” comes from the Gaelic “Poll a Charra,” meaning inlet (Poll) and large stone or rock (Charra), therefore, “inlet of stone.” This refers to the standing stone which is situated across from the inn and which is thought to date from the Megalithic/late Neolithic/early Bronze Age. It dates from the 3rd millenium BC and supposedly indicated an ancient landing site.
We booked an ensuite double and have a lovely sea view—rocks on the shore and islands off on the horizon.
We arrived at around 5:30 and booked dinner for 8:30 in order for me to be able to watch the finale of Britain’s Got Talent. Very exciting.
British—“Jan-your-ree” US—“Jan-you-air-ree”
British—“ord-nair-ree” US—“or-din-air-ree”
British—“seck-ret-ree” US—“seck-ret-tair-ree”
British—“Feb-roo-wee” US—“Feb-roo-air-ree”
British—“gair-edge” US—“guh-rahj”
I find myself lapsing into the British way of expressing things more and more. I told Ray to go pay at the till the other night in the café. I’ve never called the cash register the till in my entire life. “Get us a trolley,” I’ll say, when for 56 years of my life it has been a grocery cart or buggy. But I don’t think the British “shed-yule” will ever creep into my vocabulary.
I have also found a few things that I REALLY want to have when I get home. Well, if we’re being honest—shortbread cookies or jam doughnuts on demand anytime I want them, but the real list is as follows:
an automatic pull heater in the bath, like in our cottage here
a towel warmer in the bath
a white collapsible clothes hanger/drier, like in our cottage here
on-demand hot water for the shower, like we have here in the cottage
automatic windshield wipers like on our Peugeot we have now—and the cool mirrors
that turn themselves inward when you shut off the car
As you can see, I very much like our present living situation—cottage and car—and will be very sad to leave them.
We were up early and straightened up the cottage and headed to Columba for one last email check before we head into the wilds of the Outer Hebrides.
Afterwards, we drove to Uig. Uig was known for its witch population in the past. One woman was charged as being a witch as late as 1880. The small town looks Norwegian with its whitewashed houses and its prominent church on the hillside. The Fairy Glen we visited the other day is just on the edge of town. We walked around and visited the Isle of Skye Brewery Store and Uig Pottery then took a nap in the car.
Our ferry left from Uig just after 2. The Little Minch separates the Isle of Skye from the Western Isles with treacherous, strong currents and underwater rocks, but our crossing was fairly smooth. It was so clear that we were even able to see Neist Point Lighthouse as we crossed.
We landed at Lochmaddy, North Uist, and took the A867 to the A865, driving through the islands of North Uist, Benbecula, and on to South Uist. Immediately there is a difference—everything is in Gaelic with no English to help you in many cases. So I have to sound out the Gaelic and see what it sounds like in English and try to find that on the map. But sometimes the signs are in English but on the map it is in Gaelic, so I believe there is a conspiracy to confuse us.
The drive down was through land much like parts of Skye but more like Harris, looking very barren and flat except for a few outstanding mountains. Just read that the “2001: A Space Odyssey” lunar landscape scenes were filmed on the east coast of Harris, where I stayed when I came here alone in 2007. It is truly so barren that it indeed does look like the surface of the moon. The Uists aren’t that barren. In fact, North Uist was full of freshwater and sea lochs, so much so that at times, looking at the map, it made you wonder if there was any land underneath the road. There were several Otter Crossing signs as this island has a dense population of the little guys. The Western Highlands are the wettest part of Europe. There are few forests so the land becomes saturated then the moss grows very well and rots down to form layers of peat, which is used for fires. The land is kind of like a wet dessert, as a matter of fact. So I am sure that this area has good peat farming. We drove by Flora MacDonald’s birthplace and may go back tomorrow. The place in Milton near Mingarry is supposedly in ruins now.
We drove into Lochboisdale first to see if they had any good restaurants, but there was virtually nothing. Nothing! We are in such a remote area here. We drove back to the A865 and took the B888 to the inn, which is on the very tip of the southwestern end of the island.
The Polochar Inn is built on the water’s edge and has great views of the islands of Eriskay and Barra. The inn was once a change-house, the place you could wait for the ferry when traveling between South Uist and Eoligarry on Barra. The original building dates back to 1750 and retains much of its original features. It is now owned by Morag MacKinnon and Margaret Campbell who are sisters.
The name “Polochar” comes from the Gaelic “Poll a Charra,” meaning inlet (Poll) and large stone or rock (Charra), therefore, “inlet of stone.” This refers to the standing stone which is situated across from the inn and which is thought to date from the Megalithic/late Neolithic/early Bronze Age. It dates from the 3rd millenium BC and supposedly indicated an ancient landing site.
We booked an ensuite double and have a lovely sea view—rocks on the shore and islands off on the horizon.
We arrived at around 5:30 and booked dinner for 8:30 in order for me to be able to watch the finale of Britain’s Got Talent. Very exciting.
Had salmon for dinner and cheesecake for dessert then back up to the room to catch the show results. And my choice won!!! The dance group Diversity. They were amazingly creative. So nice to have such a beautiful view out our window.
***pictures from top: sunset out window on Skye, one last look at the Quiraings, Neist Point from the ferry, single-track roads and stone bridges on South Uist, view out our inn window on South Uist
Friday, May 29, 2009
Extras for Friday--Portree, Duntulm, and Storr
My pictures of Portree and Duntulm Castle from my trip to Scotland alone last year;
Ray behind the Old Man of Storr:
Friday, May 29--Sunrise at 3:42 am!
As we went to bed last night, a HUGE, black cloud was in the process of passing over our cottage. It looked like the scene from “War of the Worlds” with Tom Cruise and gave me a really freaky feeling. If we were in Georgia, there would definitely have been tornado warnings out. But here, it is just wind, not even rain.
Got a cellphone call from some mysterious stranger who hung up on 3rd ring at 3:42 this morning, so I was wide awake and kept awake by the light outside. It’s 3:42 and clear as day outside. Actually, clearer than yesterday’s rainy day even. I looked over to the horizon and THE SUN IS RISING!!!! No kidding—at 3:42 AM!!! Got some freaky pictures because I think the strong reflection of the sun’s light off the window made it seem like there were TWO suns—or maybe there really are 2 suns up here and I just haven’t noticed it yet—haha.
Ray went back to go even higher above The Old Man of Storr—totally against the warning signs—and I went into Portree to do some shopping. Love the Gaelic names on the street signs: Caisteal Dun Bheagan (Dunvegan), Caol Acain (Kyleakin), Caol Loch Alsh (Kyle of Lochalsh), Stafainn (Staffin). If you just sound out the Gaelic, many times you get our pronunciation of the name by accident.
To Columba for emails and dinner then home to pack up for our next leg of this journey. We are headed to Uig tomorrow morning to catch the ferry to N. Uist (Lochmaddy) then drive down to S. Uist for our stay at the Polochar Inn in Lochboisdale, I think it is. Probably won’t have internet or cell coverage, but if we do, I will be in touch.
***pictures from top: It turns out we are living on a dual-sun planet here in Scotland; Yes, this is 3:42 AM!; Side view of Old Man of Storr showing the climb up; Ray touching the Old Man of Storr—don’t push too hard!!; view from cliff ABOVE the Old Man of Storr.
Got a cellphone call from some mysterious stranger who hung up on 3rd ring at 3:42 this morning, so I was wide awake and kept awake by the light outside. It’s 3:42 and clear as day outside. Actually, clearer than yesterday’s rainy day even. I looked over to the horizon and THE SUN IS RISING!!!! No kidding—at 3:42 AM!!! Got some freaky pictures because I think the strong reflection of the sun’s light off the window made it seem like there were TWO suns—or maybe there really are 2 suns up here and I just haven’t noticed it yet—haha.
Ray went back to go even higher above The Old Man of Storr—totally against the warning signs—and I went into Portree to do some shopping. Love the Gaelic names on the street signs: Caisteal Dun Bheagan (Dunvegan), Caol Acain (Kyleakin), Caol Loch Alsh (Kyle of Lochalsh), Stafainn (Staffin). If you just sound out the Gaelic, many times you get our pronunciation of the name by accident.
To Columba for emails and dinner then home to pack up for our next leg of this journey. We are headed to Uig tomorrow morning to catch the ferry to N. Uist (Lochmaddy) then drive down to S. Uist for our stay at the Polochar Inn in Lochboisdale, I think it is. Probably won’t have internet or cell coverage, but if we do, I will be in touch.
***pictures from top: It turns out we are living on a dual-sun planet here in Scotland; Yes, this is 3:42 AM!; Side view of Old Man of Storr showing the climb up; Ray touching the Old Man of Storr—don’t push too hard!!; view from cliff ABOVE the Old Man of Storr.
Thursday, May 28--Talisker & Dunvegan
We actually thought of climbing up to the Quiraing today, but the weather said no. You know, the weather here doesn’t operate as it does in the States, for if the winds were this strong in the States, there would be no clouds for very long as they would be blown away. But here, because the weather comes in from the North Sea, it can come on very quickly and the clouds and fog can last for days. Ray says this is more like Alaskan weather. And the winds---oh my. We just noticed this morning that the little shed in our backyard has been ANCHORED DOWN with wires! And rightly so, I am sure.
So, with the weather this miserable—rainy, cold, and too foggy to climb since you couldn’t see what you climbed up to see once you got there—what to do? We went to the Talisker Distillery. Gordon was our tour guide and we learned so much about the distillery process. I never knew that making Scottish Whisky was so involved. Much more so than beer. We’ve done beer schools in the States and it seems much simpler.
Here the barley seeds have to germinate and then dry over a peat fire, which gives it flavor. It is a very exact science and there are tests along the way to be sure the correct amount of alcohol content is in the whisky. We saw all the stills and the mash process and then he showed us where the casks are stored. I found out that some of the 30 year whisky is bottled at cask strength, which must be strong indeed. The casks used are old casks from Bourbon in the States and from sherry in Spain. The color and taste of the whisky is affected by all of these choices. I had a sip of Ray’s glass—it was very strong at first then warmed and had a wonderful flavor going down.
Talisker already had a reputation in the 1880s when Robert Louis Stevenson visited Skye and called this whisky “the king o’ drinks as I conceive it.” Another writer, Derek Cooper, has said it is “spirited enough to power a jet fighter…Talisker is not a drink, it is an interior explosion…” Gordon told us that the excess alcohol is released into the river, and sure enough, when we left the distillery and walked back to our car, you could smell the alcohol as we crossed the river.
After our tour, we drove up to Dunvegan Castle to finally do the tour. I have been here twice before but didn’t have time to do it. I had read so many books about it—fiction and nonfiction—that it was about time I went inside. Dunvegan, “Fort of the Few,” has been the ancient home to Clan MacLeod for nearly 800 years, since the 12th century. It is the oldest inhabited castle in Britain, the only one to retain its family and its roof throughout the centuries. It stands on a rocky promontory, enclosed on 3 sides by the sea. At one time, it was surrounded entirely by salt water. There is a fresh water well in the courtyard from before 1280 and there was almost certainly an earlier fort on this site possibly as early as 280 AD.
Ray stopped first at the HUGE mirror on the wall at the top of the stairs and looked into it, saying that it was the Mirror of Erised. Off the hallway was a door that led to what was said to be the oldest stone spiral stairway in existence. This is the circular mural stair and it connects the four floors of the Fairy Tower. Further down the hall was the Fairy Tower Library, now the business room for the present chief and for greeting guests by the 28th Chief, Dame Flora MacLeod of MacLeod (1878-1976). In a case was a signed copy of one of his books given to the MacLeods on his visit. And in several frames were letters back and forth between them.
On the floor above this—which we weren’t allowed access to—was the room where Sir Walter Scott stayed and he gave it its name—The Fairy Room. This was the scene of the first appearance of the fairy flag. I told the story before of the fairy wife of a MacLeod chief and how she was forced to return to the fairy world after a year and a day. Well, one evening, a nursemaid was watching the baby that the fairy wife had to leave behind, and the nursemaid left the baby to sneak down to the festivities in the Keep. When she returned, she found the fairy wife who hurried away but around the baby was wrapped what has come to be known as the Fairy Flag.
The stories revolving around this flag tell of its magical powers—that when it is unfurled it brings victory to the clan, but only for 3 times. It has already been used twice—once at the Battle of Glendale in 1490 and once in the Battle of the Spoiling Dyke in 1578. It is also said to bring fruitfulness when draped across the marriage bed of a MacLeod Chieftain. It is also said to charm the herrings in the loch.
The Fairy Flag is framed and hanging in the Drawing Room. It looks so very fragile, like it is made of silk and has been through the wash a few times. Off of the Drawing Room was a stairway to the Dungeon! You climbed up the stairway then looked down into a hole where the prisoners would be dropped. Coming up the other side of the Drawing Room was another circular stairway coming from the Keep and Kitchen with a slit in the stone wall, allowing the prisoners to smell the wonderful aromas of the food—pure torture.
The huge sideboard in the Dining Room was the very one installed here by Rory Mor, one of the early chiefs. The Horn of Rory Mor is kept in the North Room. It was a test of manhood for the MacLeod Chief to be able to drink his enemies under the table, so it was important to know that he was capable of doing so. So when the Chief comes of age, he is supposed to drink the 1 and ¾ bottle of claret from the horn all in one draft “without setting down or falling down.” The present chief believes that he was the first heir who ever actually did it. His time was 1 minute 57 seconds. It is said that he practiced quite a bit beforehand.
I had read of the secret stairway from the keep down to a Seagate. And I was so pleased to find that there really was such a thing! From a slack in the cliff, there rises a doubly-curved flight of rough stone steps from an iron gate. Before the opening of the first landward door in 1748, this was the only entrance to the castle. We went down the outside stairs to the gate that led out to the loch. This was a secret entrance in one of the books I read.
When we left Dunvegan, the weather had turned even foggier and messier. No chance to do the Quiraing today at all. So we went into Portree and had lunch at The Granary. After I ordered, I popped over to Mackenzie’s Bakery next door for a few of the goodies I remembered from my stay here in 2007. Not much was left on the shelves as it was near 4:30, but 2 coconut macaroons caught my eye. That’s another thing that is different over here. Since we don’t live in a little city, where this may also be so, it is so funny to us to go into a café or bakery and order something and have them say they are sorry, they’ve run out for the day. I think we are a much more wasteful nation—this would never happen as the establishments would bake more all day in order to meet demand. Never wanting to lose a sale. Here, they bake in the morning and once it’s gone, it’s gone.
Portree is full of history. The tourist center used to be Meall House, the oldest in Portree, and was used as a prison at one time. The Royal Hotel was the site where Flora MacDonald said goodbye to Bonnie Prince Charles. It was known as McNab’s Hostelry then and the bar here is still known as MacNab’s. Portree was known as the “king’s harbor” after King James V visited here in 1540. Hundreds of “cleared” folk embarked for America in 1786 from here. The Lump, which I visited on my last trip, was the site of the last public hanging in 1742. Many witches were hung here. Cattle, 8000 per year, used to swim across to the mainland markets from Portree. A rope was tied under their jaws, and they were tied head to tail in groups of 8. When I took my walk on the Scorrybreac Circuit on my last visit, I saw a cave marked as MacCoitir’s Cave and never knew its history. Now I read that it was where someone named MacCoitir hid out after raiding ships at anchor in Portree Harbour.
Back to Columba to check our email. While inside the winds grew to a raging state—40 mph all of a sudden. So after that it was back to our cottage to marvel at the wind and rain from the comfort of our warm living room and be thankful that we are not in a tent.
***pictures from top: view of Sligachan and the Cuillins in fog, Dunvegan Castle, towers of Dunvegan, Dunvegan’s Seagate, view through the Seagate
So, with the weather this miserable—rainy, cold, and too foggy to climb since you couldn’t see what you climbed up to see once you got there—what to do? We went to the Talisker Distillery. Gordon was our tour guide and we learned so much about the distillery process. I never knew that making Scottish Whisky was so involved. Much more so than beer. We’ve done beer schools in the States and it seems much simpler.
Here the barley seeds have to germinate and then dry over a peat fire, which gives it flavor. It is a very exact science and there are tests along the way to be sure the correct amount of alcohol content is in the whisky. We saw all the stills and the mash process and then he showed us where the casks are stored. I found out that some of the 30 year whisky is bottled at cask strength, which must be strong indeed. The casks used are old casks from Bourbon in the States and from sherry in Spain. The color and taste of the whisky is affected by all of these choices. I had a sip of Ray’s glass—it was very strong at first then warmed and had a wonderful flavor going down.
Talisker already had a reputation in the 1880s when Robert Louis Stevenson visited Skye and called this whisky “the king o’ drinks as I conceive it.” Another writer, Derek Cooper, has said it is “spirited enough to power a jet fighter…Talisker is not a drink, it is an interior explosion…” Gordon told us that the excess alcohol is released into the river, and sure enough, when we left the distillery and walked back to our car, you could smell the alcohol as we crossed the river.
After our tour, we drove up to Dunvegan Castle to finally do the tour. I have been here twice before but didn’t have time to do it. I had read so many books about it—fiction and nonfiction—that it was about time I went inside. Dunvegan, “Fort of the Few,” has been the ancient home to Clan MacLeod for nearly 800 years, since the 12th century. It is the oldest inhabited castle in Britain, the only one to retain its family and its roof throughout the centuries. It stands on a rocky promontory, enclosed on 3 sides by the sea. At one time, it was surrounded entirely by salt water. There is a fresh water well in the courtyard from before 1280 and there was almost certainly an earlier fort on this site possibly as early as 280 AD.
Ray stopped first at the HUGE mirror on the wall at the top of the stairs and looked into it, saying that it was the Mirror of Erised. Off the hallway was a door that led to what was said to be the oldest stone spiral stairway in existence. This is the circular mural stair and it connects the four floors of the Fairy Tower. Further down the hall was the Fairy Tower Library, now the business room for the present chief and for greeting guests by the 28th Chief, Dame Flora MacLeod of MacLeod (1878-1976). In a case was a signed copy of one of his books given to the MacLeods on his visit. And in several frames were letters back and forth between them.
On the floor above this—which we weren’t allowed access to—was the room where Sir Walter Scott stayed and he gave it its name—The Fairy Room. This was the scene of the first appearance of the fairy flag. I told the story before of the fairy wife of a MacLeod chief and how she was forced to return to the fairy world after a year and a day. Well, one evening, a nursemaid was watching the baby that the fairy wife had to leave behind, and the nursemaid left the baby to sneak down to the festivities in the Keep. When she returned, she found the fairy wife who hurried away but around the baby was wrapped what has come to be known as the Fairy Flag.
The stories revolving around this flag tell of its magical powers—that when it is unfurled it brings victory to the clan, but only for 3 times. It has already been used twice—once at the Battle of Glendale in 1490 and once in the Battle of the Spoiling Dyke in 1578. It is also said to bring fruitfulness when draped across the marriage bed of a MacLeod Chieftain. It is also said to charm the herrings in the loch.
The Fairy Flag is framed and hanging in the Drawing Room. It looks so very fragile, like it is made of silk and has been through the wash a few times. Off of the Drawing Room was a stairway to the Dungeon! You climbed up the stairway then looked down into a hole where the prisoners would be dropped. Coming up the other side of the Drawing Room was another circular stairway coming from the Keep and Kitchen with a slit in the stone wall, allowing the prisoners to smell the wonderful aromas of the food—pure torture.
The huge sideboard in the Dining Room was the very one installed here by Rory Mor, one of the early chiefs. The Horn of Rory Mor is kept in the North Room. It was a test of manhood for the MacLeod Chief to be able to drink his enemies under the table, so it was important to know that he was capable of doing so. So when the Chief comes of age, he is supposed to drink the 1 and ¾ bottle of claret from the horn all in one draft “without setting down or falling down.” The present chief believes that he was the first heir who ever actually did it. His time was 1 minute 57 seconds. It is said that he practiced quite a bit beforehand.
I had read of the secret stairway from the keep down to a Seagate. And I was so pleased to find that there really was such a thing! From a slack in the cliff, there rises a doubly-curved flight of rough stone steps from an iron gate. Before the opening of the first landward door in 1748, this was the only entrance to the castle. We went down the outside stairs to the gate that led out to the loch. This was a secret entrance in one of the books I read.
When we left Dunvegan, the weather had turned even foggier and messier. No chance to do the Quiraing today at all. So we went into Portree and had lunch at The Granary. After I ordered, I popped over to Mackenzie’s Bakery next door for a few of the goodies I remembered from my stay here in 2007. Not much was left on the shelves as it was near 4:30, but 2 coconut macaroons caught my eye. That’s another thing that is different over here. Since we don’t live in a little city, where this may also be so, it is so funny to us to go into a café or bakery and order something and have them say they are sorry, they’ve run out for the day. I think we are a much more wasteful nation—this would never happen as the establishments would bake more all day in order to meet demand. Never wanting to lose a sale. Here, they bake in the morning and once it’s gone, it’s gone.
Portree is full of history. The tourist center used to be Meall House, the oldest in Portree, and was used as a prison at one time. The Royal Hotel was the site where Flora MacDonald said goodbye to Bonnie Prince Charles. It was known as McNab’s Hostelry then and the bar here is still known as MacNab’s. Portree was known as the “king’s harbor” after King James V visited here in 1540. Hundreds of “cleared” folk embarked for America in 1786 from here. The Lump, which I visited on my last trip, was the site of the last public hanging in 1742. Many witches were hung here. Cattle, 8000 per year, used to swim across to the mainland markets from Portree. A rope was tied under their jaws, and they were tied head to tail in groups of 8. When I took my walk on the Scorrybreac Circuit on my last visit, I saw a cave marked as MacCoitir’s Cave and never knew its history. Now I read that it was where someone named MacCoitir hid out after raiding ships at anchor in Portree Harbour.
Back to Columba to check our email. While inside the winds grew to a raging state—40 mph all of a sudden. So after that it was back to our cottage to marvel at the wind and rain from the comfort of our warm living room and be thankful that we are not in a tent.
***pictures from top: view of Sligachan and the Cuillins in fog, Dunvegan Castle, towers of Dunvegan, Dunvegan’s Seagate, view through the Seagate
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Extras for Wednesday--Old Man of Storr
The Old Man of Storr towering over us,
Me at the sign after my fall—a bit muddy but successful,
Me at the sign after my fall—a bit muddy but successful,
later in the day the Old Man of Storr stands proudly IN THE SUNSHINE!
Wednesday, May 27--Climbing the Old Man of Storr--Oops!
After a delicious breakfast prepared by Ray, we checked the weather. The report was that the rain would stop soon, then there would be about a 2-hour break before the winds grew to over 25 mph, so we went to Columba 1400 to check our emails then headed south to the Old Man of Storr. The rain seemed to be over and we planned to take advantage of that 2-hour break. I like the mountain breezes, but heavy winds on top of cliffs, I don’t look forward to. At the beginning of the climb, the path takes you through a dark and wonderful tree-lined walkway. It climbs pretty quickly, gaining altitude steadily. The entire path was about ¾ mile and climbed over 1100 feet in its ascent.
Once we exited the forest, the pathway became more rocky and muddy from the rains over the last few days. Looking back, we could see the Storr Lochs, the island of Raasay and the mainland beyond. We were about ¼ of the way up to the pinnacle when TODAY’S rains (which were supposed to be over) began. Steady and cold. The path became muddier and more slippery, so the going was more difficult. But we kept plodding on up the twisting path, the Old Man of Storr still towering above us, the rains non-stop.
The whole place was magical, the jutting rock formations looking like ancient castles perched on the Cliffside. The pinnacle itself is over 160 feet high—the height of 11 double-decker buses—and its rests on a 600-foot cliff. It was created when sedimentary rocks below the basalt gave way under the weight and masses of basalt slipped downwards in landslips. The head of the pinnacle hangs over the base and the rock is decomposing basalt lava, so it truly looks like it is ready to topple over. Only one man has ever climbed the pinnacle itself and reported that it was so crumbly, it felt like he was climbing porridge.
At the fork in the path at the base of the Old Man, we went right and uphill to the Needle, a jagged tower with two holes through it. We were now even with the pinnacle. I saw an intimidating sign up ahead warning of where rockfalls have made it dangerous to continue behind the Old Man. I got within 10 feet of the sign, “You are not advised to go beyond this point,” and what did I do? I was climbing up the last part, eyes o the sign, and I stepped on a grassy part of the path and I slipped and fell. I fell! Hard! Into the mud! I was so shocked, it happened so fast. One minute I am so happy that I have reached the top and the next, I am lying face forward in the mud. I called for Ray and he hurried back to help me up and help get most of the mud off my pants. I had mud on my coat, on my pants, my shoes, and even my camera! I must’ve had my hand on it in my pocket, and, when I fell, I pulled it out to catch myself. And mud under my fingernails—yuck!
So there I am—covered in mud, my eyeglasses so wet I can’t see a thing, and all I want to do is get up to that darned sign so I can say I went as far as I could. Picture taken with the sign and I was ready to head down. Ray acted as my brakes on the way down the steep and slippery, sloping path. So much for weather predictions.
We made it down easily and went for a snack. Saw a sign for a Car Boot Sale—I assume this is like our yard sales? Then we took the B885 out of Shulishadermor (don’t you just love these place names? Culnacnoc, Letterfinlay, I always wonder where they come from.) The moor-like land along this road was boggy and treeless, perfect for peat-gathering.
Once we reached the end of this road and turned onto the A863, the scenery changed to green velvety hills and trees. There was a big broch in Struan but we didn’t stop. Off to the left were MacLeod’s Tables. These are two flat-topped mountains near Dunvegan. The story of the mountains is fascinating. It goes that Chief Alasdair “Crotach” MacLeod attended a banquet at Holyrood and was challenged by a lowlander as to whether his home in Skye could match the magnificence of Edinburgh. MacLeod answered that he had finer. The king overheard this and MacLeod invited him to Skye to see for himself. When the king arrived in 1540, MacLeod held a banquet on the summit of one of these “tables” with clansmen bearing torches during the great feast. As MacLeod explained to the king, his roof was grander, his table more commodious, and his faithful vassals more precious than any silver candlesticks in Edinburgh.
Also near here is the Glendale Monument that we saw the other day. Glendale is the largest and most fertile valley on Skye, cut off from the rest of the island until recently. They even received their supplies by boat instead of land and supposedly have very distinctive inhabitants. The women were known for their looks and intelligence, and their gift for flower arranging, of all things. This area was a victim of the Clearances, resulting in the depopulation of Skye to provide pasture for Cheviot sheep. Between 1840 and 1883, 35,000 people were evicted. The population of Glendale in 1775 was 11,250. In 1981, it was only 8,500.
A typical edict would read: “To all crofters in Glendale. Take notice that you are warned to be ready to leave your homes at 12 noon on August 4th with all your baggage but no stock and proceed to Portree to board the ship to Nova Scotia where you will be given a free grant of land from Her Majesty’s Government. If you disobey, you will be arrested and sent to prison. Any one over age 70 with no relatives to care for them will be sent to the Poorhouse. This is final and no appeal will be considered. God Save the Queen.”
In 1882, a group of crofters led by John MacPherson (one of the Glendale Martyrs honored by the monument) stood up against the Clearances and the oppression of the people. Their actions led to the Crofter’s Holding Act of 1886 and assured that Glendale was the 1st area on Skye where the crofters owned their title deeds.
Just as we turned a corner, I saw a golden eagle with its flat, straight tail. This island is known for these creatures, and I had had my eyes out for them. I also saw a lamb, playfully wrestling with its mother and this other large bird with a grey body and dark black wings and tail, which was fan-shaped. I don’t know what he was. We visited St. John’s Chapel ruins in Caroy. It is said that this church and graveyard are haunted as they were built over a prehistoric burial mound and a fairy ground. Some have claimed to hear the fairies singing. We didn’t hear any fairies, but there was a distinct spooky feeling to this area with its rusted wrought iron railings and old gravestones. So rusted was the gate that when I closed it, very gently mind you, part of it broke off in my hand. It was like the whole graveyard was crumbling before my eyes.
We drove back through Portree and headed directly for Kilt Rock as the sunny part of the day was here and with not much wind—the part of the day we had hoped for with the Old Man of Storr climb. Just below Kilt Rock is Mealt Falls. Here the wind is so powerful at times that it reverses the water in the waterfall there, sending it back up the cliff face and over the main road and into the loch on the other side. We didn’t see this happen as the winds were offshore today, but it sounded exactly like what happened in my previous visit to Neist Point that I mentioned in an earlier blog.
Kilt Rock is a cliff where dolerite was formed as a sill when molten magma rose from the earth’s crust to pool beneath softer rocks and cooled slowly. The softer rocks then eroded slowly to reveal the dolerite. The vertical black basalt and horizontal strata make it look like tartan fabric, therefore a kilt. There is a tall waterfall here, too. As I stood by the railing taking pictures, the wind came up and seemed to sing! Whether through the railing like a tuning fork or just a natural occurrence, I don’t know, but it was beautiful. Sort of like hearing fairies sing or playing flutes. I took a video so I hope it posts on my blog so you can hear it.
Then we hurried up to the Staffin to Uig road again so that I could see the Quiraings in the sunlight. An even more amazing sight than in the rain, I must say. The Quiraings are rock formations caused by landslides millions of years ago. One mile from where we parked is the Prison (a craggy part of the mountains), the Needle (a 120 ft. pyramid), and the Table, which is hidden under a cliff face and is 200 yards wide. People of the clans used to play Shinty here—a very rough and high-scoring ball and stick game. The table is so large that is can hold 4000 cattle, and it is said that this is where the people hid their cattle when raiders were about.
Back to Columba 1400 for dinner and to check our emails then home to our cottage to wash out the mud from our clothes. I don’t believe we will have the amazing red-gold sunset of last evening, but it will still be beautiful.
***pictures from top: Ray goes ahead to check out path to the Old Man of Storr, haunted St. John’s Chapel ruins, Kilt Rock, 2 views from the Quiraings
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Happy Birthday to Ray--shhh, he's 60 today!
Ray with one of the goodies Margaret & Colin sent him--a tiny birthday cake!
Extras for Tuesday--Duntulm, Fairy Glen, and Rainbows
Extras: Sunset from our side window,
Double Rainbow!
our valley in Staffin,
Fairy Glen,
Ray at Duntulm Castle ruins
Tuesday, May 26--Rainbows, Hail, & Fairies
Tuesday, May 26—The Day of Rainbows
Happy Birthday to Ray!!!
I was treated to an incredible sight this morning. Before we ever left the cottage, out our side window, going from one house far on the mountainside to another on this end of the mountain was a huge, complete rainbow!! A complete arch--end to end! And soon after that another half rainbow formed on top of it! It was the most amazing sight with the mountains in the background.
Then within a five minute period, we had sunshine then wind, then horizontal rain with Hail!! You just never know what to expect here. Even the weather person only says that the weather is “unsettled.” Guess that could mean hurricane, tornado, blizzard……
The most northerly peninsula on Skye is Trotternish, where our cottage is situated. It has at its heart the high ridge of volcanic rock known as the Trotternish Ridge. This ridge, which is one of the most popular walking areas on the island, runs from the peak of The Storr in the south east, through the striking Quiraing near Staffin, to end abruptly near Flodigarry in the north. On the way it produces some of the most memorable sights on Skye, most notably the approach to the Old Man of Storr in the south, and The Needle and The Prison in the Quiraing. The main road sticks closely to the sea, avoiding the high ground of the ridge itself, and this route makes for a magnificent drive through some of the best scenery Scotland has to offer. But we decided to take the more adventurous road this morning as we had on our recent visit and turned onto the narrow, winding road that runs from Staffin to Uig. It climbs to the top of the ridge, past the grandeur of the Quiraing and runs across the high Trotternish plateau covered with heather and peat before finally dropping back down to the sea. There is a great feeling of openness as you drive along, as if the sky has receded into the distance, and you are driving along on the top of the world. When you reach the western end of the road, the vista of Uig Bay opens up suddenly beneath you, with views across to the lovely Waternish peninsula opposite. There is nothing in the world like driving this route.
Our first stop today was at the Fairy Glen in Uig—where we saw yet another rainbow near the folly built by Captain Fraser to collect rents from the local crofters. The Fairy Glen is a small valley of striking rock formations, oddly-shaped hills, and tumbling burns--just like the Quiraings and Storr, only in miniature. It was formed by the land being disrupted by a series of landslides on a smaller scale than the huge ones that formed the Storr and the Quiraing, with the results then smoothed by glaciers and erosion. Here there were perfect cone-shaped hills, small lochs, waterfalls on the opposite shore, and amazing stone ruins. There is also a rocky tower perched high on a hill that looks like a castle for the fairies. It is called Castle Ewen or the Fairy Castle. There is a magical feel to the landscape.
Then we drove out the Waternish Peninsula to take a look at the Trumpan Church. This was the site of a terrible event. The history says that in 1577, the MacLeods massacred 395 MacDonalds on the Isle of Eigg by setting fire to the entrance of the cave they were in and burning them all to death. So the MacDonalds of Uist decided to exact revenge. In 1578, they landed in Waternish at Ardmore Point and set fire to the thatched roof of the church where MacLeods were worshipping. One young woman escaped by squeezing herself between some rocks, severing her breast in the process, and ran to warn the MacLeod chief. He captured the invaders and killed them all, taking the corpses and tumbling a dyke over them for burial. There is also a Trial Stone with a hole in it here in the graveyard. If a person was accused of a crime, he was blindfolded and if he could find the stone and stick his finger in the hole, he was declared not guilty. The church and graveyard gave me such a sad feeling, thinking of all the clans that have fought each other over the years and all the lives lost. Just below here at Ardmore Point, there is a hill once used for hangings. And Bonnie Prince Charles tried to land here but was fired upon. Ruins of a fort can be seen below, but the private road was gated.
Ray reminded me that there is an 11-mile walk out to Waternish Point, but it would take all day to complete it. He added, “And as my good friend, Tony, would say, “Fuh-ged-aboudit.”
Using the Ordinance Map—which I have total converted over to Ray’s way of doing things—I mark up maps like crazy now with places to see. Used to be that I thought this was totally off-limits, thinking that I would later mistake some circle for a perimeter highway and be driving around a city forever trying to find things, but now I see the validity of knowing where things are so that you don’t forget to do something while you are in the area.
We are total opposites on books still, though. He will not mark in a book. If it’s a really good book, I mark it up like crazy. Ray says that is a sacrilege. He asked me what I would think of someone writing in a book I had written, and I answered that I thought it would be an honor, that it meant that the book really meant something to them. He just rolled his eyes. He refuses to read a book that I have marked in.
We found the Stein Inn sitting on the coast. It’s an eighteenth-century inn that that supposedly has really good food and over 99 malt whiskies, but seeing as we were here at 10:30am, there was none of that for us. In its present state, the Stein Inn dates from 1790, although parts are known to predate this, making it the oldest inn on the Isle of Skye. If the stone walls could speak, the tales they could tell would be amazing, I am sure.
Greshornish Point was off to our left as we headed back over to the Trotternish Peninsula. This is a site with quite a history. There was one summer when the waters here were so full of sharks, that no one dared go swimming. In 1920, there was a terrific storm that, in one night, took out all of the trees in Orbost, half the trees at Greshornish, and 4000 trees at Dunvegan. And in World War I, depth charges were dropped from a seaplane here onto a German U-boat that was hiding in the loch.
Kilmuir Cemetery was next on our list. This is the site of Flora MacDonald's grave. The cemetery is full of fascinating graves, the most famous of which is the Victorian era memorial to Flora MacDonald, who risked her life to save Bonnie Prince Charlie from capture by the English after the unfortunate prince had been beaten by the Duke of Cumberland at the Battle of Culloden on April 16, 1746. Flora MacDonald dressed Prince Charlie as her maid and helped him to reach Skye from where he eventually escaped to France.
MacDonald later married and emigrated to North Carolina, but eventually returned with to Skye, where she died in 1790. The tall cross of her gravestone towers above all the others. It is engraved with the title "Preserver of Prince Charles Edward Stuart" and is complete with an epitaph written by the notable author Samuel Johnson (who, with James Boswell had met Flora in life during their tour of the Highlands). This reads, "Her name will be mentioned in history and if courage and fidelity be virtues, mentioned with honour." Seven other members of her family are also buried here. It is said that Flora's funeral in 1790 was attended by 3,000 mourners, who between them drank 300 gallons of whisky. She was buried in a shroud said to have been made from a bed-sheet in which Bonnie Prince Charlie had slept.
There is another magnificent grave marker here with a carved effigy of a knight in armour that lies close to the very old chapel/burial enclosure at the far end of the main graveyard. This marks the grave of Angus Martin, or Aonghas na Geoithe ("Angus of the Wind"). Angus is said to have earned his nickname by insisting on going to sea whatever the weather, and he is believed to have married a Danish princess with whom he had seven sons. Angus is said to have stolen the grave slab over his grave from the island of Iona, where it had previously been used to mark the grave of one of the Scottish kings buried there, but no one knows if this is true. It is said to look more like it came from the grave of a clan chief from the late medieval period, and one tale says that he brought it up to this site himself, carrying it on his back.
The fascinating grave marker of Charles MacArthur, the last hereditary piper to the MacDonalds of Duntulm Castle, is also here. The inscription reads: "Here lie the remains of Charles MacKarter whose fame as an honest man and remarkable piper will survive this generation for his manners were easy and regular as his music and the melody of his fingers will" And there the inscription ends, leaving the bottom 40% of the grave marker blank. It is said that the stone was commissioned by Charles' son, but when the son drowned in the Minch on a voyage from Uist to Skye, the mason doing the work concluded he was unlikely to be paid, so simply stopped work at the point he had reached. There is no record of what the missing part of the inscription would have said.
Sign on road just after we left cemetery said: “Road Liable to Subsidence.” Oh dear.
Then just up the road awaiting my return was the romantic ruins of Duntulm Castle. It is perched in a dramatic cliff-top location looking out towards the Outer Hebrides. Access to the castle is by way of a short track across the top of a sheep pasture that can be very slippery and muddy in wet weather. But this path is SO much easier than the one I took before. I did not know about this track on my visit alone in September of 2007, so I took the super steep, super muddy, and super wet path from the beach on the opposite side, climbing straight up to the castle ruins. This is the side the bus let me off on and I just assumed this was the only way to go up.
Duntulm Castle was a MacLeod possession but became the chief residence of the MacDonalds in 1539, who held it until their support for the Jacobite cause resulted in Duntulm and all of their Trotternish possessions being seized by the English crown. It is believed that there was a Norse fortress here even before the medieval castle here today. It is also possible that an earlier Iron Age fort lies under the ruins of the Norse stronghold and even a Pictish fort under that. The castle is defended by steep cliffs on three sides, with a drop of 50 feet to the rocks below. Supposedly you can see scars from the galleys on the rocks below and there is a Seagate that also provided entry. I finally got all the way into the castle this time so I could take pictures from the jagged-edged stone windows. Local legend tells that Duntulm was abandoned in 1730 after a careless nursemaid dropped the infant heir to the castle from a window onto the jagged rocks.
After sunset in twilight, ghostly armies of kilted warriors have been seen parading, between the Lodge and the Castle, ready for battle. At times they pass right through the Lodge as if it wasn’t even there. It is also said to be haunted by the ghosts of Hugh MacDonald who was imprisoned here, a woman named Margaret who was shunned by her husband after losing an eye, and the nursemaid who dropped the baby, whose screams can be heard clearly at night.
The wind was so strong as we climbed back down, I was really glad that it was an onshore one and not an offshore one as I would’ve been in fear of blowing right off the cliff! As it was, the wind just threw me about a bit. The castle itself collapses more every year. No doubt, the wind has a part in this.
We came back to the cottage for lunch then went to Columba to check emails. Then it was time for low tide at An Corran, the dinosaur fossil beach. We were determined to find the elusive fossilized dinosaur footprints on the nearby rocks. The directions were very simple: The 170 million year old footprints of the three-toed Hadrosaur (a carnivore or herbivore—read two different accounts) are sometimes exposed to the right of the large boulders on the flat mud stone. Well, we stayed on that beach for over an hour, searching, climbing, falling off slippery rocks and seaweed, checking and rechecking the diagrams on the sign, but we never did see the footprints. Either they were under the sand or under the seaweed. Paleontologists think that because of the way the footprints are clustered together—adult and young—that the dinosaurs actively raised their young. Well, if they were clustered THAT much, I would think we would have seen at least one of them. Very disappointed that we couldn’t find them.
We bought a few groceries at the little convenience store in Staffin—like shopping in the old grocery store at my grandmother’s little town when I was a little girl.
We plan to go for Ray’s birthday dinner at Columba 1400.
***pictures from top: Sunset from our front window, Rainbow at our cottage!, Quiraing from the Staffin to Uig road, Ardmore Point on Waternish Peninsula, Duntulm Castle window with view towards Outer Hebrides
Happy Birthday to Ray!!!
I was treated to an incredible sight this morning. Before we ever left the cottage, out our side window, going from one house far on the mountainside to another on this end of the mountain was a huge, complete rainbow!! A complete arch--end to end! And soon after that another half rainbow formed on top of it! It was the most amazing sight with the mountains in the background.
Then within a five minute period, we had sunshine then wind, then horizontal rain with Hail!! You just never know what to expect here. Even the weather person only says that the weather is “unsettled.” Guess that could mean hurricane, tornado, blizzard……
The most northerly peninsula on Skye is Trotternish, where our cottage is situated. It has at its heart the high ridge of volcanic rock known as the Trotternish Ridge. This ridge, which is one of the most popular walking areas on the island, runs from the peak of The Storr in the south east, through the striking Quiraing near Staffin, to end abruptly near Flodigarry in the north. On the way it produces some of the most memorable sights on Skye, most notably the approach to the Old Man of Storr in the south, and The Needle and The Prison in the Quiraing. The main road sticks closely to the sea, avoiding the high ground of the ridge itself, and this route makes for a magnificent drive through some of the best scenery Scotland has to offer. But we decided to take the more adventurous road this morning as we had on our recent visit and turned onto the narrow, winding road that runs from Staffin to Uig. It climbs to the top of the ridge, past the grandeur of the Quiraing and runs across the high Trotternish plateau covered with heather and peat before finally dropping back down to the sea. There is a great feeling of openness as you drive along, as if the sky has receded into the distance, and you are driving along on the top of the world. When you reach the western end of the road, the vista of Uig Bay opens up suddenly beneath you, with views across to the lovely Waternish peninsula opposite. There is nothing in the world like driving this route.
Our first stop today was at the Fairy Glen in Uig—where we saw yet another rainbow near the folly built by Captain Fraser to collect rents from the local crofters. The Fairy Glen is a small valley of striking rock formations, oddly-shaped hills, and tumbling burns--just like the Quiraings and Storr, only in miniature. It was formed by the land being disrupted by a series of landslides on a smaller scale than the huge ones that formed the Storr and the Quiraing, with the results then smoothed by glaciers and erosion. Here there were perfect cone-shaped hills, small lochs, waterfalls on the opposite shore, and amazing stone ruins. There is also a rocky tower perched high on a hill that looks like a castle for the fairies. It is called Castle Ewen or the Fairy Castle. There is a magical feel to the landscape.
Then we drove out the Waternish Peninsula to take a look at the Trumpan Church. This was the site of a terrible event. The history says that in 1577, the MacLeods massacred 395 MacDonalds on the Isle of Eigg by setting fire to the entrance of the cave they were in and burning them all to death. So the MacDonalds of Uist decided to exact revenge. In 1578, they landed in Waternish at Ardmore Point and set fire to the thatched roof of the church where MacLeods were worshipping. One young woman escaped by squeezing herself between some rocks, severing her breast in the process, and ran to warn the MacLeod chief. He captured the invaders and killed them all, taking the corpses and tumbling a dyke over them for burial. There is also a Trial Stone with a hole in it here in the graveyard. If a person was accused of a crime, he was blindfolded and if he could find the stone and stick his finger in the hole, he was declared not guilty. The church and graveyard gave me such a sad feeling, thinking of all the clans that have fought each other over the years and all the lives lost. Just below here at Ardmore Point, there is a hill once used for hangings. And Bonnie Prince Charles tried to land here but was fired upon. Ruins of a fort can be seen below, but the private road was gated.
Ray reminded me that there is an 11-mile walk out to Waternish Point, but it would take all day to complete it. He added, “And as my good friend, Tony, would say, “Fuh-ged-aboudit.”
Using the Ordinance Map—which I have total converted over to Ray’s way of doing things—I mark up maps like crazy now with places to see. Used to be that I thought this was totally off-limits, thinking that I would later mistake some circle for a perimeter highway and be driving around a city forever trying to find things, but now I see the validity of knowing where things are so that you don’t forget to do something while you are in the area.
We are total opposites on books still, though. He will not mark in a book. If it’s a really good book, I mark it up like crazy. Ray says that is a sacrilege. He asked me what I would think of someone writing in a book I had written, and I answered that I thought it would be an honor, that it meant that the book really meant something to them. He just rolled his eyes. He refuses to read a book that I have marked in.
We found the Stein Inn sitting on the coast. It’s an eighteenth-century inn that that supposedly has really good food and over 99 malt whiskies, but seeing as we were here at 10:30am, there was none of that for us. In its present state, the Stein Inn dates from 1790, although parts are known to predate this, making it the oldest inn on the Isle of Skye. If the stone walls could speak, the tales they could tell would be amazing, I am sure.
Greshornish Point was off to our left as we headed back over to the Trotternish Peninsula. This is a site with quite a history. There was one summer when the waters here were so full of sharks, that no one dared go swimming. In 1920, there was a terrific storm that, in one night, took out all of the trees in Orbost, half the trees at Greshornish, and 4000 trees at Dunvegan. And in World War I, depth charges were dropped from a seaplane here onto a German U-boat that was hiding in the loch.
Kilmuir Cemetery was next on our list. This is the site of Flora MacDonald's grave. The cemetery is full of fascinating graves, the most famous of which is the Victorian era memorial to Flora MacDonald, who risked her life to save Bonnie Prince Charlie from capture by the English after the unfortunate prince had been beaten by the Duke of Cumberland at the Battle of Culloden on April 16, 1746. Flora MacDonald dressed Prince Charlie as her maid and helped him to reach Skye from where he eventually escaped to France.
MacDonald later married and emigrated to North Carolina, but eventually returned with to Skye, where she died in 1790. The tall cross of her gravestone towers above all the others. It is engraved with the title "Preserver of Prince Charles Edward Stuart" and is complete with an epitaph written by the notable author Samuel Johnson (who, with James Boswell had met Flora in life during their tour of the Highlands). This reads, "Her name will be mentioned in history and if courage and fidelity be virtues, mentioned with honour." Seven other members of her family are also buried here. It is said that Flora's funeral in 1790 was attended by 3,000 mourners, who between them drank 300 gallons of whisky. She was buried in a shroud said to have been made from a bed-sheet in which Bonnie Prince Charlie had slept.
There is another magnificent grave marker here with a carved effigy of a knight in armour that lies close to the very old chapel/burial enclosure at the far end of the main graveyard. This marks the grave of Angus Martin, or Aonghas na Geoithe ("Angus of the Wind"). Angus is said to have earned his nickname by insisting on going to sea whatever the weather, and he is believed to have married a Danish princess with whom he had seven sons. Angus is said to have stolen the grave slab over his grave from the island of Iona, where it had previously been used to mark the grave of one of the Scottish kings buried there, but no one knows if this is true. It is said to look more like it came from the grave of a clan chief from the late medieval period, and one tale says that he brought it up to this site himself, carrying it on his back.
The fascinating grave marker of Charles MacArthur, the last hereditary piper to the MacDonalds of Duntulm Castle, is also here. The inscription reads: "Here lie the remains of Charles MacKarter whose fame as an honest man and remarkable piper will survive this generation for his manners were easy and regular as his music and the melody of his fingers will" And there the inscription ends, leaving the bottom 40% of the grave marker blank. It is said that the stone was commissioned by Charles' son, but when the son drowned in the Minch on a voyage from Uist to Skye, the mason doing the work concluded he was unlikely to be paid, so simply stopped work at the point he had reached. There is no record of what the missing part of the inscription would have said.
Sign on road just after we left cemetery said: “Road Liable to Subsidence.” Oh dear.
Then just up the road awaiting my return was the romantic ruins of Duntulm Castle. It is perched in a dramatic cliff-top location looking out towards the Outer Hebrides. Access to the castle is by way of a short track across the top of a sheep pasture that can be very slippery and muddy in wet weather. But this path is SO much easier than the one I took before. I did not know about this track on my visit alone in September of 2007, so I took the super steep, super muddy, and super wet path from the beach on the opposite side, climbing straight up to the castle ruins. This is the side the bus let me off on and I just assumed this was the only way to go up.
Duntulm Castle was a MacLeod possession but became the chief residence of the MacDonalds in 1539, who held it until their support for the Jacobite cause resulted in Duntulm and all of their Trotternish possessions being seized by the English crown. It is believed that there was a Norse fortress here even before the medieval castle here today. It is also possible that an earlier Iron Age fort lies under the ruins of the Norse stronghold and even a Pictish fort under that. The castle is defended by steep cliffs on three sides, with a drop of 50 feet to the rocks below. Supposedly you can see scars from the galleys on the rocks below and there is a Seagate that also provided entry. I finally got all the way into the castle this time so I could take pictures from the jagged-edged stone windows. Local legend tells that Duntulm was abandoned in 1730 after a careless nursemaid dropped the infant heir to the castle from a window onto the jagged rocks.
After sunset in twilight, ghostly armies of kilted warriors have been seen parading, between the Lodge and the Castle, ready for battle. At times they pass right through the Lodge as if it wasn’t even there. It is also said to be haunted by the ghosts of Hugh MacDonald who was imprisoned here, a woman named Margaret who was shunned by her husband after losing an eye, and the nursemaid who dropped the baby, whose screams can be heard clearly at night.
The wind was so strong as we climbed back down, I was really glad that it was an onshore one and not an offshore one as I would’ve been in fear of blowing right off the cliff! As it was, the wind just threw me about a bit. The castle itself collapses more every year. No doubt, the wind has a part in this.
We came back to the cottage for lunch then went to Columba to check emails. Then it was time for low tide at An Corran, the dinosaur fossil beach. We were determined to find the elusive fossilized dinosaur footprints on the nearby rocks. The directions were very simple: The 170 million year old footprints of the three-toed Hadrosaur (a carnivore or herbivore—read two different accounts) are sometimes exposed to the right of the large boulders on the flat mud stone. Well, we stayed on that beach for over an hour, searching, climbing, falling off slippery rocks and seaweed, checking and rechecking the diagrams on the sign, but we never did see the footprints. Either they were under the sand or under the seaweed. Paleontologists think that because of the way the footprints are clustered together—adult and young—that the dinosaurs actively raised their young. Well, if they were clustered THAT much, I would think we would have seen at least one of them. Very disappointed that we couldn’t find them.
We bought a few groceries at the little convenience store in Staffin—like shopping in the old grocery store at my grandmother’s little town when I was a little girl.
We plan to go for Ray’s birthday dinner at Columba 1400.
***pictures from top: Sunset from our front window, Rainbow at our cottage!, Quiraing from the Staffin to Uig road, Ardmore Point on Waternish Peninsula, Duntulm Castle window with view towards Outer Hebrides
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)