16th & 17th August

We woke up on the beach, and made quite an efficient team with our pack up. We were on the road fairly quickly, from six in the morning. The road took us back via Fort William, where I’d hoped to see more of the town. We stopped on the way to see the mountains in the morning light. There were so many shades of green! The sun moving highlighted different parts of the mountain, with the light being bright green, and the shadowed valleys looking rich and dark.
Scotland is a land of changing scenery. The light and clouds show the landscape differently as they move, each bend in the road or path offers a new visual perspective.

The three of us were getting to know each other better at this stage. Melanie, our driver, is a confident twenty-two-year-old woman from Hamburg, Germany. She loves driving (fast), Harry Potter, lakes and photography. She is a civil engineering student, who is addicted to her phone, and is a bright, energetic woman with a great enthusiasm for life. Pierre is a twenty-eight-year-old from French Guiana. He works for the Guiana Space Centre, and showed us a video of a sunset rocket launch. Pierre has a dry sense of humour, and a love of smelly cheese and sarcasm. The three of us worked quite well together, and travelling was smooth and easy.

We stopped in Glenfinnan for a short hilltop walk on Ardgour Island. The tree species are said to have been present since the ice age, and signs told us to be on the lookout for wildlife, but we saw little. We did hear lots of birds, a sound I always find quite peaceful, wherever I am.

Back in Fort William, we did drive past the Old Fort ruins, however Pierre and Melanie decided it wasn’t worth stopping for. Instead, we headed towards the Loch Ness. We passed a WWII commando memorial statue. Nearby, was a round “garden”, filled with plaques, totems and images dedicated to deceased soldiers. It was intimate, touching, and deeply personal. Another reminder of the waste that war is.

Our days were becoming full with places to visit, as we moved on to Invermoriston. This is where the river meets the Loch Ness, and we crossed over on a bridge built around 1819. As per most old constructions in Scotland, the bridge had character which was amplified by the fact that it was over yet another clear, flowing river.
As we drove, the scenery remained much like that from a picture book. White sail boats on sparkling blue lakes, mountain forests on the other side. We moved too fast to take photos, but it’s not the sort of scene you’d forget in a hurry.

We arrived at Urquhart Castle, which was tourist-ridden and drenched in sunshine. It was hot. Sweaty, sunburned-nose hot. We were totally unprepared for both the heat and the crowds, although the castle was a sight to behold. We watched a short video in a small auditorium about the history of the castle, which ended with the curtains opening to reveal a perfect panoramic view of the site. Very impressive, as was obvious from the collected gasp in the room. There was a man in traditional Scots clothing outside, demonstrating dress and fighting to the visitors. He must have been sweltering, as I was hot in a t-shirt. Kudos to him for keeping in character.

We had yet another supermarket lunch. At this stage I had eaten more bread in three days than I have in the past three years. This day I ate an entire tub of hummus, and a block of fairtrade orange chocolate. Luxurious, given the circumstances.

The trees became denser the further North we drove. I saw a Highland cow and got very excited! The landscape became grass covered hills with running streams. There were few trees, other than pine plantations. We passed a café South of the Eileen Donan Castle, called “Jac-O-Bite”. Made me laugh, love a good pun.
The Eileen Donan Castle looks like something from a fairytale. We arrived too late for entry, but the photos we took could have come from postcards. Set on a lake, the castle image reflects perfectly into the water, and we spent a good hour admiring it from the outside. Nearby were some carved wooden benches, and flowers everywhere. A beautiful place to spend an evening.
We camped in Sligachan, on the Isle of Skye, where we watched the full moon rise over the mountains. It was a perfect end to a full day, despite the sweat and the midges.

The next morning we headed from our campsite towards the Fairy Pools of Skye. It was a six hour round trip, nearly seventeen kilometres. As we set out, I called “Good Morning, Skye”, and Skye answered with a blowing wind, and running streams. Wild heather covered the mountainside. Water flowed everywhere, down mini waterfalls over rocks, creating crystal reflections of the sunlight on its flow. The mountainside looks like it’s covered in white dots, which are actually the reflections of water as it runs down. There were pinks, purples, greens as far as our eyes could see. We went from windproof layers to singlets and sweat. Our feet were sore, and the tree-less landscape provided no shelter. The area has a beauty which is unique, with stone, grass and water covering rolling hills. I decided that my waterproof hiking boots were definitely a worthwhile investment, and that it’s impossible to dress appropriately for the ever changing weather.
The fairy pools were pretty, but again, such a busy tourist attraction that it was hard to enjoy or even see them properly. We were well aware of the irony that we formed part of the tourist group. Even so, many of the pools and waterfalls we saw on the way there were almost as beautiful, and worth walking the long way.

We returned to the campsite, hungry and tired, having missed lunchtime. The plan was to eat, but as we arrived, our tent was collapsing due to the strong winds. We enlisted the help of two nearby campers to help us steady it, and then ran up the hill to help some new campers who couldn’t get their tent up with the wind force. I downed three peanut butter sandwiches once we were done, and could probably have eaten three more. Once we’d stuffed our faces, we set off on a mini road trip. It was Pierre’s last night with us, and we drove towards the Neist Point lighthouse. We passed yet another field of sheep, where we noticed that most sheep in Scotland have a

patch of spray paint, no doubt to denote which flock they belong to.
Neist Point is a place with a rugged coastline and a large lighthouse. The walk to the point is steep but easy, and we discovered the plateau above the cliff is covered with rock stacks. I found it all quite mysterious, but it turns out they’re made by visitors to the area, and rather annoy the local. I thought they added personality to the landscape, and photographed quite a few.
Just behind the lighthouse point is another small cliff. Melanie and Pierre climbed up, and I stayed to photograph their silhouetted figures, which looked like pins on the mountaintop. The landscape was harsh, with high cliffs, sheer drops and strong geometrical shapes. There are sheep and cattle everywhere, and neither seem to be concerned with the rocks or the heights.
Driving back along the narrow, winding road was scary. Melanie drives the self-proclaimed German way, which means fast and confident. Pierre and I kept asking her to slow down, although he was much calmer than me. I had white knuckles and began to feel carsick in the back, which is very unlike me.
We arrived back to Sligachan Hotel, and I went directly to the bar and ordered a whisky. Dalwhinnie 15 single malt did the job; a local Highland whisky which warmed the throat and calmed me down. Dear Scotland, I now understand why you drink so much whisky.