The Greyness of Scotland is Lovely

Loch Ness

There is a definite authenticity factor to be considered when a day in the Scottish Highlands comes complete with a very light drizzle, a greyness that is the colour of wet steel, and a mist coming off of the braes in the distance that is eerily reminiscent of a highlight reel from Brigadoon. It is almost as if the locals purposely provided the atmospheric backdrop for our journey. The spring heather on the hills (yes, it really does exists) is still brown and damp but come summer it will illuminate the mountains with swaths of purple and white. Oh, how I wish I could see that.

The Great Glen of the North was our gateway to Inverness, Culloden, Loch Ness, and Beauly. Fans of Outlander (both the books and television series) will be well acquainted with the names and the historic battles waged here. The Battle of Culloden in 1746, saw the Highland Clans and Jacobites band together with the impetuous and foolish Bonnie Prince Charlie in an attempt to overthrow the government forces and send them packing back to England. The massacre that ensued is legendary and it was the last military battle ever fought on British soil. The Highlanders of today still mourn the loss of their clansmen and the Culloden Moor is today a museum and ancient burial ground. I happened upon the gravesite for Clan Fraser and couldn’t help but think of Jamie (Yes, I am an Outlander aficionado.) and his kinsmen fighting for the honour of Scotland. Without venturing too far into this time-warping thing, it doesn’t get too far afield to imagine what could have happened had the idiot Charlie been smarter and successful in his bold endeavour. He would have restored his father to the throne of England and Scotland, sent George II scurrying back to Germany, George III would never have ascended the throne and the entire American Revolution might never have occurred. Just a ‘pondering.

We headed through the picturesque landscapes passing all manner of wildlife on our way to Inverness. North Atlantic seals, Shetland ponies, pheasants, partridges, and even a few “Heilan Coo” (that’s Highland Cow to those not familiar with the local dialect) were visible. The surrounding area is dotted with old ruins, castles, and enough fabled monsters, witches, and kelpies to fill several children’s books. Inverness, which likes to call itself the gateway to the heart of the Highlands, is a quaint town marked by Inverness Castle. A castle has stood here in one incarnation or another since 1057. The Ness river runs through the town south to its famous Loch.

Which brings me to what is possibly the biggest tourist scam ever perpetrated on visitors to any country on earth. I used to think that designation should rightfully belong to the people of Pisa and their dumbass sinking tower. Nope! I was mistaken. Keeping alive the story of a fabled water creature that cannot be categorically proven nor disproven, even using the brilliance of modern science, has moved Loch Ness to the top of my list. The Highlanders are brilliant. They draw people to the lake, which is actually quite eerie and mysterious in the Scottish mist, in busloads. They try and sell them boat tours (of what I am still not sure) and regale them with stories of sightings and drownings and other magical mumbo-jumbo.

And then….

They point you to the gift shops.  And of course, we buy. Who wouldn’t buy their new granddaughter a stuffed Nessie? What am I? A complete monster?

Our guide Ian told us that he hopes they never prove or disprove it. The tourism boom just to stand at the shores of the lake is phenomenal and frankly a whole lot of fun.

A few side notes from our day.

**I won’t discuss the haggis that I watched Twin Son and His Better Half eat for lunch. This vegetarian could barely imagine it. The cauliflower was delicious.
**I sometimes forget just how beautiful the world can look in the rain. While I wouldn’t want to spend 80-90% of my time in the gloom, there really is a lovely sheen to the earth in the mist of this area.

**You have to know that you have a really good guide when he regales you with Scottish Mouth Music toward the end of your trip. I love hearing all of these old tunes that eventually made their way to the Appalachians and other areas of North America. This Scottish folk music, like its Irish cousin, is the basis for much of our Country, Bluegrass, Delta Blues, and eventually Rock and Roll.

**Men in kilts is a look that I could learn to like. Not as unattractive a kit as one might imagine.