Scotland, Day 2
I wake up. It's 1:30 AM. After nearly an hour of tossing and drifting sleepwards but not getting back to sleep, I give up and get up. After all, I've gotten seven hours of sleep including the nap right after we got to the hotel. Once I finally find the switch on the lamp (it's pretty much flush with the ring that holds the lampshade on, making it difficult to feel for) I write for a bit, read for a bit. Unfortunately, the light wakes Nik up after an hour, so I try going back to bed. After another half hour or so of me not sleeping, Nik is woken up by me not sleeping. He's also running out of sleepiness, so we give up, and read our respective books till it's late enough to get breakfast and go out. On the bright side, we got an early start, and had two serious adventures before noon.
Our first stop is the cup-and-ring carvings at Achnabreck. It's a bit of a trek, and the wet grass is slippery, but it was well worth it. I saw my first thistle. Nik saw a deer. I just caught a flash of something large and brown. I think we were both more in awe of being in this lush forest than we were of the rocks. Don't get me wrong, the rocks were also very, very cool.
Next, we went to Fort Dunadd, which I had expected to be better marked, since it's marked on the map of Scotland. I also expected it to be more of a structure. It's a good-sized hill, with treacherous rocky paths. Nik walked close behind me and warned me that if I fell, he was going to throw me over, so I didn't die. After a few minutes' consideration, I realized he meant he was going to push me forward onto the rocky path to prevent me falling off the cliff, and not that he was going to throw me off the cliff. The hill was used in the annointing of kings, and I figure getting up the hill was part of the trial to determine a king's worth. If you can't climb the hill, you certainly don't deserve to be king of said hill. At one point I did have to hand my crutches off to Nik so I could climb with my hands, but the climb, while treacherous, really wasn't that bad. I was very grateful for the guidebook's advice to wear shoes with a good tread. Had I not been wearing my hiking boots, I definitely would have fallen and died.
We stopped in Oban for lunch, then headed up towards Duror towards our next B&B: Bealach Country House. About six miles before Duror, I saw a sign that I thought had the name of the B&B. So we turned around to investigate further. Just off the road, there is a gate. Past the gate, there is a track that really isn't big enough to call a dirt road, or even a driveway. I'm a little dubious. We drive up the track for what seems like an inordinately long time. Just as I'm about to suggest that maybe we should turn around and investigate the other tiny path, there is a small black sign with white lettering: "You're on the right track!" Encouraged, we continue. Again, we've been going a very long way, when we see another sign: "Almost halfway there!" A little further on: "Just another half mile to go!" and, a few feet farther, "Less than half a mile to go!" We finally get there (now, had I bothered to print out their directions, I could have discovered that there was indeed supposed to be a mile and a half track from the road to the house. Well, now I understand why the house doesn't exactly have an adddress.
The house is gorgeous. The bedroom and bathroom are spotless. There is a wee decanter of whisky waiting in the room. There are penguins on the bed. There are a rubber seal, whale, and one other non-ducky animal that I don't recall on the ledge of the tub. The bathroom is a bright sunny yellow, and has a skylight, so it's bright and cheery, even when it's raining in the morning. We explore the grounds a bit, and discover stairs leading down to a pretty little stream.
Our hostess, Hilary, has won numerous awards for her cooking, and it's not hard to see why. There was another couple in their sixties staying at the house. Hayden and Francis-Mary are Irish and Scottish, respectively, now living in Cheshire. They have travelled a great deal, and have many stories to share. After the fabulous dinner, we sat in the lounge sipping whisky and chatting with our hosts for nearly an hour.
When we got back to our room after dinner, the bed had been turned down, and the penguins tucked in.
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Our first stop is the cup-and-ring carvings at Achnabreck. It's a bit of a trek, and the wet grass is slippery, but it was well worth it. I saw my first thistle. Nik saw a deer. I just caught a flash of something large and brown. I think we were both more in awe of being in this lush forest than we were of the rocks. Don't get me wrong, the rocks were also very, very cool.
Next, we went to Fort Dunadd, which I had expected to be better marked, since it's marked on the map of Scotland. I also expected it to be more of a structure. It's a good-sized hill, with treacherous rocky paths. Nik walked close behind me and warned me that if I fell, he was going to throw me over, so I didn't die. After a few minutes' consideration, I realized he meant he was going to push me forward onto the rocky path to prevent me falling off the cliff, and not that he was going to throw me off the cliff. The hill was used in the annointing of kings, and I figure getting up the hill was part of the trial to determine a king's worth. If you can't climb the hill, you certainly don't deserve to be king of said hill. At one point I did have to hand my crutches off to Nik so I could climb with my hands, but the climb, while treacherous, really wasn't that bad. I was very grateful for the guidebook's advice to wear shoes with a good tread. Had I not been wearing my hiking boots, I definitely would have fallen and died.
We stopped in Oban for lunch, then headed up towards Duror towards our next B&B: Bealach Country House. About six miles before Duror, I saw a sign that I thought had the name of the B&B. So we turned around to investigate further. Just off the road, there is a gate. Past the gate, there is a track that really isn't big enough to call a dirt road, or even a driveway. I'm a little dubious. We drive up the track for what seems like an inordinately long time. Just as I'm about to suggest that maybe we should turn around and investigate the other tiny path, there is a small black sign with white lettering: "You're on the right track!" Encouraged, we continue. Again, we've been going a very long way, when we see another sign: "Almost halfway there!" A little further on: "Just another half mile to go!" and, a few feet farther, "Less than half a mile to go!" We finally get there (now, had I bothered to print out their directions, I could have discovered that there was indeed supposed to be a mile and a half track from the road to the house. Well, now I understand why the house doesn't exactly have an adddress.
The house is gorgeous. The bedroom and bathroom are spotless. There is a wee decanter of whisky waiting in the room. There are penguins on the bed. There are a rubber seal, whale, and one other non-ducky animal that I don't recall on the ledge of the tub. The bathroom is a bright sunny yellow, and has a skylight, so it's bright and cheery, even when it's raining in the morning. We explore the grounds a bit, and discover stairs leading down to a pretty little stream.
Our hostess, Hilary, has won numerous awards for her cooking, and it's not hard to see why. There was another couple in their sixties staying at the house. Hayden and Francis-Mary are Irish and Scottish, respectively, now living in Cheshire. They have travelled a great deal, and have many stories to share. After the fabulous dinner, we sat in the lounge sipping whisky and chatting with our hosts for nearly an hour.
When we got back to our room after dinner, the bed had been turned down, and the penguins tucked in.
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10