The North of Scotland, Autumn 2001

On Tuesday night Nicky and I went to Cardross to Rhona and Iaine's house for dinner. I have known Rhona since she was a little bitty girl as she and Nicky have been close friends since 2nd grade. Nicky has known Iaine the same length of time but he was a year behind her and Rhona in school.

Cardross is a lovely little village that has apparently been a settlement on the banks of the Clyde since the beginning of time. It is believed that Robert the Bruce died here from leprosy in 1329. The picture is of Kirkton Chapel, a 12th century chapel which is one of the oldest religious sites in the area. The chapel is dedicated to St Mathew who is said to have lived before the time of St Columba. The simple much restored chapel was rebuilt in 1467 and was used as a school after the Reformation until the mid 19th century. It then fell into decay but was restored by the Roman Catholic Church and rededicated in 1955. While restoration work was being done part of a standing stone bearing an inscribed cross was unearthed. This has been attributed to the earliest Christian period. The stone has been re-erected in the vestibule of the chapel. Some ancient tombstones can still be seen in the ground.

Cardross

I learned that another interesting ruin that I have been admiring for years as we zipped back and forth through Cardross does not in fact date back to Robert the Bruce as I had assumed but only goes back to WWII, as a ruin that is. Obviously I am not very good at dating ruins! Rhona informed me that it was the village church and was hit by a bomb. Clydebank is just down the road and because of the ship yards there it was heavily bombed. Sometimes the Germans would dump left over bombs that somehow didn't release over the target indiscriminately and on one particular occasion they got the village church. I guess the village just let the ruin stand because in a country dotted with picturesque ruins they didn't feel the need to tear it down and put something modern and ugly in its place. Besides there are lots of graves surrounding it so I suppose that was a factor as well.

On Wednesday morning Nicky and I loaded up and headed out for "The North.” That's what the signs on the Motor Way coming to Scotland say. Just "The North." I love it. No messing around with fancy highway signs, just straight and to the point. We didn't get a very early start as this branch of the family doesn't do mornings all that well, but by 11 a.m. we were finally on the road.

Glen Coe

We took the A82 along the entire length of Loch Lomand, past Loch Tulla and Loch Ba and through Glen Coe. It was such a beautiful drive, through Luss, Tarbet and Ardlui but when we got to Glen Coe it not only took my breath away, it almost brought tears to my eyes it was so achingly beautiful. It's one of those places like Culoodon and Stonehenge. You can just feel the history of the place all around you. Of course it doesn't help that the weather can be particularly broody there. We were right in the heart of the Grampian Mountains and the west of Scotland gets so much rain that there are almost always low clouds brushing the peaks and the glens stay misty a lot so it all combines to give off a sense of drama. Whatever it is, I am always moved almost to tears in Glen Coe.

Nicky Loch Ness

So, onward then up the road that borders Loch Linne, through Ft. William and then the A87 cut off at Glengarry toward the Kyles of Lochalsh. I can only repeat myself and say over and over how beautiful it all is. We passed Loch Lockey which I always like the sound of as it's spoken. Loch Lockey...has kind of a ring to it, don't you think? Along the A87 between Loch Claunie and Loch Duich a small river cavorted along beside the road. It darted back and forth under the road, first on one side, then the other, ducked into a natural rock tunnel beside the road, then jumped down a couple of small waterfalls, and as a grande finale turned into a miniature roaring rapids. When it finally reached the bottom of the hill, with a soft gurgle and a happy sigh, it gently emptied its self into Loch Duich.

At Dorney we stopped at Eilean Donan Castle and had a cup of tea in the tea room, took a couple of pictures and decided to head back toward Inverness. It was getting late in the afternoon and the rain that had been spitting down on us all day decided to get serious, thereby limiting our viability. One bonus that came with the on again, off again rain was that we almost always had a rainbow somewhere in line of vision for the whole trip. It followed us around so persistently that Nicky and I started to wonder if Jim had decided to come along with us. (Surely you have all heard my rainbow story at least two or three times by now).

Inverness

It was right at dark when we got to Inverness so we decided to return the next by the say route except for cutting off to the Kyle of Lochalsh. We checked into the B&B which was clean, convenient and had a comfortable bed. Down along the river front we spotted an Irish Pub called Johnny Foxes and decided to settle for pub grub for dinner. Well, that turned out to be not much of a "settling for" situation. We had steamed mussels, rib eye steaks with some kind of out of this world whiskey sauce, accompanied by a salad that was in actuality a chef's salad and topped it off with a Café Mocha. We could barely make it back to the B&B!

The next morning we did a quick wander around Inverness, checked out the Victorian Market and this time headed toward "The South" along Loch Ness. It was a glorious morning but the sun was so bright it almost blinded me. Nicky says that it's because this far north the sun is so low that it aims its self right into your eyes. I'll buy that I guess.

Fort William

We stopped in Ft. William this time and wandered around the town center, took a few pictures and I bought myself a real dorkey hat. Nicky couldn't believe I would actually wear it out in public but I love it! She kept walking a little to the front of me like she had never seen me before in her life, laughing and shaking her head in one of those "Grandma's really lost it this time" kind of ways.

The Drover's Inn

Our gorgeous morning suddenly left and the weather sulked and brooded all the way through Glen Coe. We stopped for a late lunch at The Drovers Inn in Ardlui, just at the head of Loch Lomand. It was established in 1705 and probably hasn't had a good cleaning since. There was a brass (I think it was brass) salmon over the huge fireplace in the main bar that has apparently been being smoked for the last 297 years. We had steak pie, chips and veggies. We remarked that this is seemingly our week for pigging out on red meat.

We arrived back in Dumbarton tired by happy and the odometer on Nicky's car said that we had traveled 401 miles.

Tomorrow I am going into Edinburgh with Joanne. Nicky is going to go around a pick up the kids from school so that Joanne and I can have a one-on-one day. We are going to take the train from here as parking in Edinburgh is a nightmare. Then the next day we are all going into Glasgow to the Barrows, the huge flea market. I need to by a bigger suitcase!