The most gracious people I've ever met
Written: Dec 23 '99 (Updated Aug 04 '00)
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Product Rating:
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Pros: beauty of landscape and people
Cons: expensive to get to
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| Penguinlady's Full Review: Scotland |
I received several requests for more information, both about the places we went and the graciousness of the people, so I have substantially amended this review to include that information. Thanks to the people who took the time to request it. New material is in italics.
I fell in love with bagpipe music as a child and always wanted to visit their ancestral home, so when I finally did so, it was a huge thrill for me. I expected to find dreary, drizzly landscapes; dour, sour people; and pipers wandering around the countryside in kilts.
Well, all my expectations were shattered. Scotland's latitude is far enough north that the light is very blue and crystalline, and even after rain, the light is clear and brilliant, with a quality unlike anything I had seen before. The cities and towns we saw were a pleasant amalgam of historic and contemporary, without the clashes of style we see in the U.S. The landscape was rugged and beautifully green, with muted shades of color - a photographers paradise.
In the course of two trips, I got to see quite a bit, but only west of a line between Edinburgh and Inverness. I never got to the eastern part of the country.
On the way north from Edinburgh, we drove through Pitlochry. Nothing unusual about it, we thought, as we looked for a pub for lunch. But in the course of our search, we discovered something wonderful: Pitlochry is a wool town. Lining the High Street on both sides, all the way through the business district, was shop after shop of woollen mill outlet stores. I'd promised myself a cashmere sweater, but learned that even this fine wool made me itch. The happy discovery, though, was merino, a long, straight strand that knits up into a soft, flat fabric. And the best part was that it was very inexpensive - no, make that dirt cheap. I was able to buy a sweater for the equivalent of $15 or $20. Well, it was cold and I went wild. I bought armloads of them, in all styles and colors. We stayed at the Queen's View Hotel, a lovely place north of town and down a country road, quite silent and isolated, but with a nice pub and restaurant and very comfortable rooms, all of which had nice views.
While in the pub, a local asked where we were headed. I said Inverness. He suggested that if we loved bagpipes, we should go to Inverness next week, not this, because it would be the site of the "pibroch" - that's the phonetic spelling, not the correct one - a piping competition involving the best Gold Medal pipers from all over the world. He suggested that we spend the next week on the west coast, in Oban and on the islands. So we turned left and off we went to Oban.
Oban is a "resort" town - as close to a resort as you'll find in Scotland. It's the access to Mull, which is the access to Iona, the burial place of St. Columba, the Cistercian monk who colonized northern England and Scotland and left fabulous (ruined) abbeys in the 6th century. We found a room in Oban and set out exploring. Our trip to Iona took a full day, beginning with a short ferry trip to the eastern end of Mull, and then a 35-mile drive to the western end along a 1-lane road that we shared with tourist coaches every five minutes. We had to leave the car and take a ferry to Iona, where no cars are allowed.
Iona was a little disappointing. I'm interested in all things ancient, and was looking forward to seeing the old abbey. But it's been almost completely restored, and a new church built. So the sense of history is seriously diminished. But it's a lovely day-trip.
We drove north, past Fort William, to Kyle of Lochalsh, the small town where you can take a ferry about three miles to Kyleakin, the easternmost town on the Isle of Skye. (I have been told that the ferry is no more - a hugely unpopular bridge was built - by Bank of America! - about two years ago.) Our ferry trip was very picturesque, though - it only took about 20 minutes, the ferry was tiny, and we passed an incredibly romantic and picturesque ruin, Castle Moil, ancient seat of the MacKinnons, of which only a remnant of the tower still stands against the dark hills. That day it had rained, and a wisp of fog was caught on the top of the ruin - incredible!
We spent a few days on the Isle, and I came to understand why three women I knew had changed their names to "Skye" after returning from there. We found a room in Kyleakin, and after that in Portree, the largest town on the Isle. We also drove out to the far western end of the Isle to visit Dunvegan Castle, the ancestral home of the MacLeod clan, and the most-continuously-occupied castle in Scotland - an unbroken occupancy by the Chieftain of more than 700 years. It's huge and impressive, perched on the cliffs at the very tip of the island. We enjoyed wonderful Skye salmon and scallops on the island, and were delighted to discover that Drambuie ("Dram-BYOU-ee," not "Dram-BOO-ey")is made on the Isle - it goes very nicely dribbled over a scoop of dairy ice cream, also made there without flavorings other than those inherent in the ingredients.
From Skye, we went to Inverness, driving past Loch Ness and Urquhart Castle. Urquhart was blown up by the Jacobites, so not much remains, but what there is is quite dramatic. A piper plays from the top wall of the ruins - a Chamber of Commerce touch, naturally, but one that had me in tears, as bagpipes always do.
In Inverness, we attended several events at the pibroch, but it was very cold and windy and we didn't linger there more than a day or two. It's on my list of places to return to someday.
We also visited Stirling, home of Stirling Castle, a wonderfully historic site and a lovely town. And of course, in the course of getting from here to there, we went through and stopped in dozens of lovely little towns and saw many ruins, each more dramatic and historic than the last: Melrose, Hawick, Cavendish, Kenmore, Eilean Donan, which adorns most of the cookie tins sold in Scotland... Beauty, charm, and history everywhere you look.
But the real revelation was the people. The Scots are without a doubt the friendliest, most hospitable and gracious people I've ever encountered. After having traveled in Germany and Austria, I expected more of the same shrugs and "So what?" attitude I'd seen there. I know the dangers of generalizations, but in three weeks in Scotland, we did not have a single encounter that was less than positive, and many were much more. Strangers on the street were anxious to be helpful, and often went way out of their way to assist.
Here are some examples of that graciousness.
In Edinburgh, trying to get to Edinburgh Castle, we were wandering in the park, totally frustrated because we couldn't find the right path that would take us there, despite the fact that it loomed over us. It was about 9:00 am and people all around us were going to work. I approached a business-suited gentleman and asked him if he could point us in the right direction. He must have thought these Americans were real dopes to be unable to find it, so he turned around and escorted us about five minutes to the path, which was in the opposite direction from where he had been headed. We protested that we didn't want to make him late, but he was very courtly and insisted that he didn't want us to get lost. When he was satisfied that we couldn't possibly get lost from there, he touched his cap, bid us a good day and trip, and then turned around and went back in the direction he'd been going when we met him. He spent at least fifteen minutes with us.
In Kyleakin, we approached a B&B to find a room. My friend went to the door while I waited in the car. (I drove, she booked the rooms.) A minute or two later, I saw her leave the house, followed by a man and a boy. She got back into the car and said, "They don't have a room. Follow that car." We did, about 1500' down the straight road, to another B&B, where the man and my friend got out of the cars, he escorted her to the door, introduced her to the B&B Lady, and returned to his car via mine, reassuring me that we would be very comfortable there. Turns out that the first B&B family was just sitting down to dinner and had no vacancies, but the B&B Lady insisted on calling her competition down the road to book us a room, and her husband and son insisted on leaving their dinners to show us how to get there.
In Inverness, we went to a pub for lunch during the pibroch. It was quite crowded with kilted Scots; we were the only gringos. We couldn't find a table for ourselves, so approached a 60-ish couple and asked if we could share theirs. They were very gracious and engaged us in conversation. I told them that Scotland was my dream and as a child, I'd memorized most of the tartans. He asked me which was my favorite, and I said MacLeod of MacLeod, and regretted being German down to my bone marrow, with nary a drop of anything else in my family tree for millenia, so while I could appreciate it all, I couldn't wear the tartans. At which he rose, and I noticed that he was kilted out in... MacLeod of MacLeod. He bowed over my hand, and invited me to become an honorary MacLeod of MacLeod, with all rights and privileges thereto, including the wearing of the colors. I was speechless. Mary was in tears.
And THAT'S why I can absolutely state that the Scots are the most gracious and hospitable people on the face of the earth.
This is definitely a place to spend some time - it's dripping with history, beauty, and friendliness, and I treasure my time there.
Recommended:
Yes
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