Day 24: The Highlands

Did you know that Stairway to Heaven was written on Loch Ness? Or Did you know that the lyrics to Loch Lomond were found in the pocket of a dead Scottish soldier? Or that Scotland's national flower is not the thistle, but the Scottish Blubell? William Wallace was Robin Hood. And Mel Gibson got a lot of things wrong in the movie Braveheart. There is a place in Scotland that refuses anyone by the name of Campbell, because of a massacre committed by an English captain by that surname. The castle Doun is where Monty Pithon and the Holy Grail was filmed. Rob Roy was pretty much an Orangotan in a Kilt. And did you know that Roy means Red in Galic? The Highlander's language is Galic, which is similar to Gaelic in Ireland, but more gutteral. Ben means mountain. Glen means V shaped valley. A strafe is a flat bottomed valley, and a Loch is a lake. Wee means little, and bonnie means beautiful. And girls, if anybody says anything about your paps, slap them immediately!

I wish I could remember every single thing I learned on my tour of the Highlands today. No... I wish I had thought to bring a tape recorder in my backpack! Our tour guide was amazing. (And so was our Mercedes Benz tour bus)... He knew everything about everything Scottish. And he told stories in his deep voice, and rugged accent with the perfect gruff-ness and intensity. He even did sound effects! My goodness. The man was a genius. I could have listened to him all day... OH WAIT! I did. :)

And, to accompany his stories of blood and guts and revenge and war and brutality and hardship and feuding... I got to look out the window at places where everything actually happened!

Seriously. ...

The Scottish Highlands are beautiful. I mean, holy freakin' cow. (Not super eloquent, I know... but that's the best I can come up with).

It's so green. And rugged. And sprawling. And wild.

There are moors stretching out for miles, and high rounded mountains (or bens), and deep black Lochs, and dense forests... I mean, gosh it's pretty.

As we got out of the city, there were these ancient stone walls, stretching out over the rolling hills, going this way and that, marking the pastures. We got here just in time to see the little black headed, black footed lambs, following close behind their mothers. Jumping, and kicking, hopping and running along as fast as their little legs can carry them, tails bobbing up and down. We saw highland cattle, which are huge big hairy things. (I say "huge big" because Stevie our tour guide said it all the time). They are massive. And slow. But gentle, and goodn natured. We even got to meet one- his name was Hamish. And he was gigantic. (But if you ever meet Hamish, please don't kiss him. He's got bovine herpes. And it's catching).

Our first stop was at a look out point above one of the first Lochs. The grassy moor stretched out before us, and you just couldn't help but run. The springy turf just begged to be loped over-- frolicked in. It was a beautiful, sunny day. And our first steps in the highlands were not wasted. I ran around like there was no tomorrow... like when I was a kid, jumping over sagebrush and racing my feet.

I got tired faster than when I was a kid.

But I still ran through the highlands of Scotland, and I loved it. :)

You know the moors in the highlands are the biggest in the world. They're actually bogs, that have completely grown over, fertile as can be, the soil made up entirely of black peat. And they actually have excellent Ski Resorts in the highlands. (Well... resort might be pushing it). And one year, they got so much snow, they couldn't open... because there was too much snow! It had completely burried the lift. ... OOps.

We made it to Loch Ness by quarter to three, and just made it onto the boat. Loch Ness. As in, the Loch Ness Monster.

Yeah. I was there.

Good old Nessie didn't make any miraculous appearances, unfortunately. But I understand how she hides so well... That water is absolutely jet black. It's all to do with the peat content, but my goodness, it's spooky. You can't see more than a couple feet below the surface, if that! And the loche is a 1000 feet deep in the middle!

You know Nessie is all well and good... but the best part of that boat ride was the old couple sitting next to me. We got to talking, and by the end of the trip, we'd become fast friends. They were from the Lake district, and tonight was their last night of their two week Holiday in Scotland. We chatted about school, and travel, and everything else. And we decided that since she was ninety, and I was nineteen, we both had nines in our ages, so we could be good friends. ;) Her husband leaned over and said with a smile and a wink, "now you be nice to her. She was given an award by the queen, for lifelong service in nursing!" ... He was awfully proud of her, and when she asked what he was saying, I said "oh, nothing but that you're a wonderful lady!" and she laughed and shook her head.

When we left the boat I was sad to leave them. She and I gave each other a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then I rushed to the bus while they waved with their canes.

I've found that the people are the most interesting part of any place. Seeing something beautiful is nice, but seeing something beautiful with someone dear to your heart is better.

I hope she has a happy, happy life. And I think she will always be my friend. The lady on Loche Ness. ;)

As we drove home listening to Stevie's advice on Whisky, I sat and stared as hard as I could at the landscapes flashing by. An outcropping of rock, a stream, a cluster of tall, slender trees. I tried to engrain it into my memory-- every single perfect moment... and I wished again and again under my breath that I would never forget. But stare as I did, I think I am still forgetting.

A scottish sunset in the countryside is something to behold. The sky is all white and blue and lavendar... passionate, and quiet, all at once. The sun sits behind a cloud, throwing light into the haze. The greens becomes greener. All the fields and trees deepen in hue. And everything is soft, blurred around the edges, and yet... the colors are seperate and distinct as if they'd only just come out of the artist's tube of paint.

If I can't remember anything else, I hope I can remember that.

... I fell in love today. I fell in love with Scotland, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to fall back out of love again. I don't know that I ever want to.

I love Scotland. I love it. I love the history, and the people, and the city, and the country, and the hills, and the clouds... I love everything about it. Oh! Scotland. How will I ever leave you?