Edinburgh

A city of hills, water, and castles! Scenic but a little too touristy for me (there are so many backpackers there). I preferred…

Loch Ness Monsters and Whisky

I heard some typically Scottish tales on the Macbackpacker's Tour from Edinburgh to Inverness - stories of rebellions and betrayals and plenty of whisky! Met the most bizarre man in Scotland - Steve the Nessie hunter - who has lived in a caravan by the loch for 8 years trying to prove Nessie's existence! According to him there many be as 20 monsters… believe it or not!

A Postbus Ride To Nowhere

It's not a typical bus trip when you're riding in the post van while the postie delivers mail to every little cottage on the road from Lairg to Tongue in the Northern Highlands. It's an awesome place where everything seems massive - the heather covered hills, the shimmering lochs, the swiftly flowing streams filled with salmon, the gale-force Arctic winds, the hairy coos… It's easy to imagine that civilisation is 1000 miles away instead of just less than 40.

A Day in Talmine

Sunday, 10 October '99.

Took a very long walk to Talmine today. Across the causeway from Tongue and to the right. Past a graveyard full of dead Mackay's. Past countless sheep and a few shaggy Highland cows in their natural habitat. Then the weather cleared and the water was blue and the Rabbit Islands that guard the Kyle of Tongue weren't just grey silhouettes.

Melness and Talmine were just a small collection of houses. With a small beach. A pier with some salmon fishing boats. Cows on the road. The skeletons of wrecked dinghies. Two seals playing in the bay. Heather-covered moors. Sand bars that appear at low tide. They call them beaches and you're supposed to be able to get to them by crossing fenced fields, but I didn't know that and stuck to the road.

Sat on a heather-covered mount to rest. Patches of blue and racing clouds in the sky. Attempted to pat a pony. Listened for approaching cars through the roar of the wind so I could get out of the way in time. The wind always threatens to blow me into the water.

I've got a cold, typical after a sore throat. Ate half a packet of choc-covered digestive bickies. When I returned to the hostel a Kiwi couple gave me a tour of the Kyle. Ben Loyal's peaks stood clear in the afternoon sun. The wind whined like an injured cat. Whipping rain hammered against the windowpane.

Dozed on the vinyl lounge and basked in the warm sunlight. Discussed politics with Bruce, the Kiwi. Rubbed Nixwax into my worn boots. Ate 3-minute noodles with lettuce. My legs ache from the 7 mile walk. I will sleep well, I think.

Ullapool & Lochinvar

Went for a drive with a couple from New Zealand north of Ullapool, on the north-west coast, and found the most perfect Scottish beach at Achmelvich. Yes, white sandy beaches do exist in Europe, but it doesn't mean the water is warm enough to swim in…

Skye

The Isle of Skye. The land of spectacular Cuillins, a range of mountains running down the spine of the island. The land of high sea cliffs and plunging waterfalls. The land of the fairies who inhabit miniature glens. The land of the controversial Skye Bridge (which attracts regualar demonstrations from scone-baking little ladies). The land where tradition is not an unused word!

I saw the island on Nick's Tours, a very talkative and hilarious local guy, who told us many a tale (some of them very tall) of the island. One of the weirdest (but true, I suspect) tale is about the Free Presbyterian Church, an ultra conservative denomination who practically rules over the outer islands; who won't even allow the local swimming pool to open on a Sunday, and who ban the consumption of Scotch whisky (???). Er, they must not be Scottish because if there's one thing that a Scot likes it's his whisky.

Iona

Ah, the Hebrides… a magical place. Perhaps that was why St. Columba founded the first monastery on the British mainland on the small island of Iona? Iona is a place of great isolation, even now. It's a place where the wind howls constantly and whips up everything not tied into place. In a place so exposed to the elements, it's not difficult to believe that it's God doing the talking!

Rosneath

The little village of Rosneath was home to my friend Joan (whom I met at Camp ABC) and her wee son, Dean. It was where I rested for a week after my Scottish leg of the journey. No hairy coos, but plenty of pretty farmland, wooded hills, and lochs. Learned about football and Scottish pubs and the state of Scottish roads (who needs rollercoasters)!

Football Capers

The Scottish (like most European nations) have a rather large obsession with football. Living with a male in the household (even if the wee lad is only nine) meant that the footie was always on TV, or whenever he got control of the remote. I learned to follow the two Glasgow teams, Celtics and Rangers, as Rosneath was only 90 mins away from that city. We cheered when the Rangers won a match in the Champions League, was devastated when the leading Celtic striker broke his leg, and watched every match religiously. It's crazy, but it's addictive.