Scotland with the Family

We were lucky enough to have Colby’s parents, Lise and David, and his grandma Katharine join us for a week and a half to explore the highlands and western islands of Scotland. After traveling with just the two of us for so long, it was fun to have the dynamics of a larger group. Together we laughed our way through occasional mayhem, shared life wisdom, roved around on hikes, told stories, explored ancient ruins, discussed the future, and simply enjoyed spending time together. Here are some of the highlights of our time.

Part 1: The Highlights of the Highlands

“Hello!” We all greeted each other with hugs at the Glasgow airport. The joy at seeing loved ones was further increased by the relief that we had successfully converged at the same place at the same time. With the five of us united, we set off in high spirits toward the car rental to begin our adventures together. Oh yes, that evening dished up plenty of adventures.

The first challenge was getting a rental car with insurance of all things. There had been some sketchily fuzzy communication on the part of Hertz surrounding the fine print, and despite the hefty sum they were charging for the car, it still left us liable for any accidents. Colby wouldn’t take this insult lying down and was poised to rip up the contract in righteous indignation. Julia has rarely seen him this worked up so it was quite something! We ditched Hertz and started chatting up the competition, who got into a bidding war for lower prices and bigger cars. So it all turned out to our advantage, despite the trade off of giving us all some high blood pressure.

The next challenge was piling into the car and watching David learn how to drive. Sitting in the driver’s seat on the right side of the car, shifting gears with his left hand, and keeping to the left side of the road was all a magnificent brain puzzle. As we did practice loops through the rental car lot, the attendants gave us increasingly funny looks as we inched around in jerking loops and random practices of reverse. “I can’t believe they let you rent these things” exclaimed David. When David, undaunted by anything, admits his nervousness, it causes a special shudder to touch you deep down. Well, we all held on with white knuckles and nervous giggles as we took off our training wheels and ventured out onto the open road.

The fun did not end there. After loading up on groceries we began our journey out of Glasgow to our first destination, a three night stay in a cottage on a sheep farm in the Scottish Highlands. We decided to take the back roads to avoid the traffic jam on the main highway out of Glasgow. Google estimated it would take us an hour and a half to get to our destination. Google was wrong. The roads were very dark. Winding. Narrow. Unfamiliar. There were road closures. We were all exhausted. The speed limit is 60 mph but we were lucky to break 30. As we got closer to our destination, the road became one lane. Then it turned into a gravel track. When we finally rattled into the driveway of our cozy cottage at 9:30 pm, we were so glad to have arrived! Despite the pain of getting there, we appreciated that the five of us all enjoy getting off the beaten path: not everyone would end up at the end of a single lane dirt track road before the sun had even risen on the first full day of their vacation.

We should also introduce the sixth member of our adventure, the poor rental car. It was young, naive, not yet toughened to the trials and tribulations of life. Every time we got a little too close to something (and Scotland gave us plenty of exceedingly narrow places to squeeze through, like one lane stone bridges with just inches to spare on either side) the dashboard camera sensors would beep and whine and light up in alarm. It gave a mechanical voice to David’s entirely justifiable concerns.

Anyway, we had successfully made it to Balquhidder, Scotland. One of the joys of arriving to a new place in the pitch dark is that you have no idea what to expect when you pull back the curtains in the morning. After a night of deep sleep, the day dawned mostly sunny (a rare gift in Scotland) and our surroundings were revealed to us in all their radiant splendor. The rolling mountains of the Scottish highlands rose around us, mostly pastures and moorland colored gold and russet and green, spotted with fragments of pine forest.

Colby and I took a little walk outside to bask in the morning sunshine and cool fresh air. Standing upon a boulder watching the sunlight stream into the valley, the moment felt right: we formalized our commitment to each other with the exchange of engagement rings. The rings were truly works of art, made by Colby’s brother Tremayne who does incredibly intricate wire wrapping. The rings also contain a reminder of the hiking and canoeing trips in Northern Minnesota that first brought us together, as they feature a Lake Superior agate split in two and polished. We still never get tired of looking at our gorgeous rings, which are just as unique as we are! We knew that traveling together would either make or break us as a couple. Indeed, the experiences of travel have drawn us much closer. They have spurred us to think and talk deeply about our thoughts and shared dreams. Going through a variety of circumstances together – delightful, stressful, exhilarating, and exhausting – has helped us get to know one another on a deeper level. And through it all, we still find joy in each other’s company.

As we continued our walk we came across two little streams coming together into a babbling waterfall. The sunlight shimmered in the poplar leaves which danced like a million butterflies alighting on the wind. Ah, what a beautiful morning! I also thought back on the night before, when I had been laying in bed perfectly asleep when I heard something about “experience the joy in life” and my eyes shot wide open. My gaze fell directly upon the full moon, which was peeking between the crack in our curtains as it sank low in the sky over the far off mountains. That was a magical moment as well.

Once Colby’s family was up we shared the exciting news with them. After taking some photos and sharing a pot of oatmeal for breakfast, we put on our boots and set out to explore the lovely valley. It is a working farm with 1500 sheep, and we were there at round up time. Somehow, a handful of boys with walkie talkies and a handful of incredibly athletic shepherd dogs manage to gather the sheep down off the hundreds of acres of hillsides and herd them into the pen. As we passed through the pen on our hike, we were veeeeerrryyy careful to make sure we closed the gate behind us. The next day, we watched from across the valley as even more sheep were herded into the pen. It was enchanting to watch the hundreds of white dots in motion, flowing and braiding and streaming like rivers of water.

We got to learn more about the farm from our host, who loved to talk with us. She shared many stories of her life there, ones both tender and riotously funny. She was so warm and full of life – the type of person you love to be around because their abundant vitality and joy just spills over into everything around them.

We also learned about the surprising history of this glen (valley) from her. Although today it is a wild and remote sheep farm worked by her single family, the glen was long ago home to 500 people living in 80 different crofts (small farmsteads) and sharing common grazing grounds up on the hills. We could hardly imagine so many people living here! Unfortunately, the once vibrant community was destroyed during the Highland Clearances of the late 1700s to mid 1800s, when tens of thousands of tenant farmers all around Scotland were forcibly evicted from their homes as their landlords got into the more profitable business of sheep farming. People who had called a place home for many generations were suddenly forced out, their homes set on fire so they couldn’t return. This traumatic history contributed to the scattering of Scottish people all around the world and still plays an important part in the Scottish psyche.

Our next day at the farm dawned sunny as well, so it was time for more hiking! Super Grandma Katharine joined us again, geared up as always with binoculars and a birdwatching app on her phone, this time for a walk along the shore of the nearby loch (lake). Later we walked up to an overlook to observe this long, skinny loch from a new angle. Back at home in the afternoon, although it had now turned cloudy and chilly, we were still energized for more hiking. We set off from our cottage and tromped along the muddy path of the cow pasture, saying hello to the big beautiful creatures as we ventured up the valley. After a while squishing and slip sliding our way up the trail, Katharine was eventually ready to head back but encouraged us to continue if we wanted. Yes, we let an 83 year old hike back through the mud and cows alone. Totally something you’re supposed to do. But it turned out fine, as she assured us.

Anyway, we continued venturing farther up the valley, squishing across the boggy lumpy ground as the trail dissolved into nothingness. Eventually we decided to head back toward the cottage. Lise and David conjectured that maybe it wouldn’t be so wet if we made our return path higher up on the hillside. Julia laughed internally but kept her mouth shut and let them discover on their own what we had discovered back in the Cairngorms. Scotland is wet. Unavoidably. Everywhere. No matter how hard you try you can never avoid it, even high up on a hillside! Anyway, now that we were part way up the hill we had the perfect chance to go climb to the top of the saddle that had been begging us to go up and see what was on the other side. (More mountains and another long skinny loch, by golly. Beautiful!) After our long tromp we arrived back at the cottage just before dark, wet and muddy and windswept, with glowing cheeks and fun memories of adventure. Just as wonderful, Colby had stayed home as chef and had a warm dinner of rice, beans and roasted parsnips waiting for us. We cozied in together for our last night in Balquhidder.

Part 2: Lovely Little Isle of Lismore

Our next stop was two nights on the Isle of Lismore, a little island on the west coast of Scotland home to 150 people. En route we drove through the impressive mountains around Glen Coe. We were grateful to David for being our chauffeur so that we could enjoy the view. Even on the main roads, the lanes are narrow and have no shoulders so David kept an intense focus on the incessant flow of frighteningly close oncoming traffic. Wide shoulders are one expression of American decadence that we really appreciate!

Besides the spectacular mountains and valleys, another delight was meeting up for lunch with friends. Coincidentally, our lovely first Swiss WWOOF hosts, Catrin and Lorenzo, were visiting Scotland on holiday with their son who lives in London. We didn’t expect our paths to cross again so soon, but how lucky they did!

Finally we arrived to Lismore on the ferry in the late afternoon and were greeted with a cold, damp, sparsely decorated cottage with a musty chill that got into our bones. We felt a little homesick for our previous cottage in Balquhidder which, while its decorations were over the top, was warm and cozy. While Katharine tried to get warm under a blanket, the rest of us piled into the car and set off on a quest for bread and milk. We wound down Lismore’s main road (one narrow lane traversing the island) in search of the one place to buy food on the island, the fabled “wee grocery store in the wee post office.” We finally found what we were pretty sure was the right building. It was very wee! Was there really room in there for some groceries to be hiding on a back shelf? But we didn’t get to find out, as it had closed at 2 pm for the rest of the weekend. Oh well, the trade offs of a tiny community. But we enjoyed knowing we were well away from the crowds.

Our expedition for staple foods was not an entire failure either. What we found on our outing was even better than bread and milk. First we found a big blackberry patch laden with berries, and as we got out of the car to pick them the sun came out and made us feel even more welcomed and provided for. Next, down at the pier we found an old phone booth adorably converted into a stand offering self-serve homemade cinnamon rolls, banana bread, and even a thermos of coffee and milk. Lismore had a fun small town character.

Back at the cottage we tried in earnest to get the place warmed up. With some reservations, we lit the coal fireplace (who still burns coal?). It failed to add much warmth but did give us some very watery red eyes. So we called that quits. Finally we got the place warmed up once the electric heating units kicked in. Even more helpful was turning on the oven and leaving its door wide open to keep us warm and toasty in the kitchen. Once the cottage was warm, life immediately started to look brighter. We hoped for decent weather the next day, as it would be our one full day on the island. “I’m not entirely sure why people come to Lismore!” Lise mused, making us smile. It reminded us of our arrival on Unst, when we asked ourselves that same question. The tendency to find ourselves on remote random islands must run in the family. But as we learned on Unst, everywhere has something fascinating to offer.

We explored a few of Lismore’s highlights the next day. First stop was the lovely local museum with a reconstruction of what a typical croft house might have looked like. Remembering the initial chill in our cottage, we couldn’t imagine living in such cold, stony, damp darkness for our entire lives. We could see why they like tea (and also whisky) so much in Scotland. Inside the museum, there were displays surrounding the emigration of many Lismore residents to the United States back in the early 1900s. This depopulation reminded us of the similar history that played out in the Shetland Islands.

Next we visited Lismore’s broch, which was in better condition than the ones we saw in Shetland. Although Lismore’s broch was also constructed in the Iron Age, it was somewhat uniquely used as a seat of power all the way up to the 13th century.

Our next stop was the ruins of Castle Coeffin. Perched high on a rock overlooking the sea, the crumbling walls of the castle poked skyward like grassy rotten teeth. We climbed up and imagined with almost eerie intrigue all the hands that built the castle and all the lives that once passed through it. The whole scene felt like classic Scotland - the faraway mountains rose into the fog, a grey mist shrouded the land, and islands and inlets mingled with the ocean.

As a final excitement for the day we decided to drive down toward the southern tip of the island. As the road became progressively muddier and more potholed we decided it was time to go back. Being a one lane road with no turnaround for a fair distance this involved some challenges, ending in mud splattered across the side of the car and all of us filled with utter relief that we hadn’t sunk in... All’s well that ends well.

Part 3: Magnificent Isle of Mull

Next we had four nights to settle in a little longer at another farm cottage, this time on the nearby Isle of Mull. If we hadn’t had enough history already, the farm where we were staying had more broch ruins right on its own grounds. After we unpacked and settled in, we set off across the pastures to go check out the elevated circular mound overlooking the sea. We stood atop it and absorbed the peace of the scene around us: the calm grey sky fading to darkness, the smooth ripples of water on the inlet, and the bluish grey mountains looming quietly. This same mysterious intrigue has lingered in the landscape for millennia.

Over the next few days we ventured out to explore the different parts of the Isle of Mull. This island is much bigger and more mountainous than Lismore and we got a sense for its size as we drove across it towards the Iona ferry. The island of Iona, just off the west end of Mull, has a long Gaelic Christian spiritual history and is a well known pilgrimage destination. We hadn’t done much research beforehand so we didn’t quite know what to do once we actually got there. But we enjoyed seeing the pinkish granite landforms, iconic abbey, nunnery ruins, as well as saying an up close hello to some Scottish Highland cattle.

Driving back to the cottage after Iona we decided to take the “scenic” back route winding right along the coastline. This would be the point to mention that not only the scenic route but almost all the roads on the whole island are one lane, with intermittent bulges of pavement in which to pull over and let oncoming cars pass. Our five days here added a few more grey hairs to David’s head. On the main roads he had to stay constantly on guard, hitting the breaks every 30 seconds with a weary sigh and swerving into a passing place to let an oncoming car pass. The constant stops and starts were extra fun with manual transmission. The back roads were worse though. Although there were fewer cars, the passing places were also much rarer and you might have to back up a long ways. But the positive side of one lane roads is that the constant process of negotiation keeps you in touch with the other drivers on the road. Every single pass is paired with a friendly wave of acknowledgment between drivers. We imagined a research study comparing the levels of cooperation and community orientedness among people living with one-lane versus two-lane roads.

The next day we drove on more of these one lane roads to visit the picturesque seaside town of Tobermory and later took a hike on the grounds of nearby Glengorm Castle. In name it is a castle, but it is better described as an 1860’s McMansion built by a rich man who evicted an entire crofting township to make room for it. Anyway, we were here in search of gannets, as they were on Katharine’s birding bucket list and are often spotted along the seashore here. Although the two of us had seen thousands of them up in Shetland, they were nowhere to be found on Mull. (But by coincidence, Katharine successfully spotted gannets in St Johns, Canada during their overnight layover on the way home). Anyway, despite a spatter of icy rain and wind we still enjoyed the seashore for its own sake. Back in the cozy cottage we cooked up a root vegetable stew with beef from the farm where we were staying. We opened a bottle of wine and sang happy birthday to Lise.

Our last big desire for our time on Mull was to climb its Monroe, a nickname for a mountain taller than 1000m. The morning of our last full day we set out to climb this mountain, called Ben More. We parked at the bottom and dipped our fingers in the ocean water, hoping to complete the classic “sea to summit” hike. Although we had chosen the day with the best weather forecast, we were in Scotland after all and it could not have turned out more windy, wet, and cold! We got most of the way up the mountain, but nearing the top we ascended into a thick cloud of low visibility. Our steady determination dissolved as whiteness became our only view and ice cold gales literally tried to blow us off our feet. It is easy to appreciate the outdoors when conditions are favorable, but nature also has a fierce and desolate side that is just as exhilarating. Sometimes it’s good to be reminded of your limits. Although we didn’t achieve our goal, we did relish the sweeping views out to the ocean all along the way and we most certainly earned our afternoon tea.

The next morning it was time for the long journey back to Glasgow. That meant lots of time to chat together in the car and gaze out at the hillsides while David negotiated the roads, still frighteningly narrow. After a while in heavy Glasgow traffic and a visit to the Glasgow cathedral, we shared a delectable final meal together at an Indian restaurant. While Indian restaurants are one of Julia’s favorite things in life, the experience made Colby concerned about being able to palate anything once we get to India. Although he ordered his food mild, it was not Minnesota mild: he couldn’t finish his plate because his head was on fire. And of course, we have chosen to begin our travels in the South part of India where the food is spiciest! Wish us luck.

Soon it was time to head to the bus station and give each other some nice long goodbye hugs. It felt a bit like starting the trip all over again, saying farewell to the familiar and setting off to new adventures. But what a gift to have shared these times together –exploring, relaxing, reconnecting, and dreaming.