Departing the Orkneys: Day 1

Leaving the Orkney’s cast a sad note on our travels. We departed on an early boat to mainland Scotland in order to make our way to Edinburgh – our last stop. Our island journey’s had been unimaginable, so it was hard to move on to the last leg of our Scotland trip.

There was no gambling on this ride. My mother and father read their respective books (my father was well engrossed in Royal Assassin by Robin Hobbs, the second book in a trilogy my mother and I had conspired to make him read). I was writing in my journal while my brother played solitaire for lack of any other activity.

My mother and I went briefly to the open deck for parting views with those magical cliffs. There was some real crappy espresso involved from the ship’s eatery (there’s no good coffee in the UK. I think it’s payback for our rowdy tea party back in Boston). But aside from that, it was a fairly uneventful ferry ride.

The day, too, was one of fairly uneventful travel. The mainland was pretty, but like a pond of beauty after staring so long into an ocean, it was much less impressive. We stopped at a tea room that was on the coast, and had a quite marvelous view, the ruins of a small castle were clearly visible on a tiny nearby island that was likely not an island when it had been built. The terrain there was hilly and uneven. To give an idea of just how uneven it was, one could have stepped from the parking lot onto the roof of the neighboring house, so steep a drop was it from the parking lot to the surrounding land.

The tearoom itself wasn’t much, but it had a yard sale – style collection of junk in the back, from which I purchased a pretty basic, usable working man’s flask.

Later in the drive (which turned out to be mostly highway driving for once in our trip) we stopped at a splendid castle. I do not recall the name, but they charged 8 pounds (roughly $16) per person for admission, thus we settled on viewing it from the outside only.

We did, however, end up stopping for a tour of the Glen Morangie scotch whiskey distillery. It had a riotously funny film introduction that featured couples in all sorts of romantic environments and a constantly melodramatic voice that seemed to sincerely believe that whiskey and romance were one and the same. The tour itself was pretty informative, and ended with a glass of whiskey for everyone that was probably worth the price of admission.

Inverness: Just passing through

When our day of traveling was done we had reached a B&B in Inverness. The place was quaint and rather pretty, but I certainly missed the majesty of the isles. It was a short walk to the city for dinner.

Inverness City impressed me more than Glascow did, but not by much. It did have a friendlier heir though, and wandering the streets in search of dinner was probably the best part of dinner. This may in part be due to dinner, however.

We were the only people in the restaurant we entered. This is always a terrible sign, and it was kind of creepy too. There were two giggling girl bartender/waitresses, both with fake blonde hair. No other person entered the restaurant until the very end of our rather lengthy meal.

The dinner turned to somewhat of a playful argument as we waited for our food. See, Loch Ness was nearby, a sight my brother very much hoped to see. Culloden Battlefield, the location where the second and most successful Jacobite rebellion was crushed, was also nearby. Obviously I was in favor of seeing the field where the Jacobites fell. But the two locations were opposite each other, and my parents felt it best to see only one, as we had far still to travel to get to Edinburgh. But eventually we agreed to see both and do our best to see both places quickly. What can I say? Stubbornness runs in our veins.

After dinner, my brother and I led a post-dinner expedition to find a good pint (and make up for the crappy food at dinner). Sadly, we could find few good pubs in the area, and in an unfortunate accident we ended up at a sports bar, and the rest of my family spent most of the time watching some sports game on TV. I’ve never tried to swill a pint of good beer as quickly as the one I had that night.

Final Trek to Edinburgh

That morning I had regrets about pressing Culloden on my family. How much would any battlefield mean to me that we were all going so far out of our way? But when I proposed we forget about it, my parents shushed me and insisted we go to Culloden. I love my parents.

I do not know why it is that Hollywood has not yet made a movie of the Jacobite Rebellion. As I understand it, King James left the throne amidst political turmoil, and it was snatched up by his sister. The word Jacobite itself stems from the name James, they were loyal to James, who they felt was the rightful king. They bought into that divine right of kings stuff. Alas, the Jacobite rebellion was crushed. But his son Charles, better known as the Bonnie Prince Charlie, felt it was his destiny to succeed where his father had failed, and regain the throne. He returned to Scotland and quickly gathered up Scottish support (though not as much as he’d hoped, still plenty). Each battle fought by the Jacobites, right up until Culloden, the Jacobites won. They were infamous for their brutal Jacobite Charge.

The Bonnie Prince Charlie, for all his support, was not great on the subject of military strategy. Culloden was meant to be the final battle, the battle to end all. He couldn’t help that the enemy outnumbered them almost 2:1, nor could he help that the British soldiers were better trained, better armed, and better fed. The Jacobites hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours when the battle occurred. But what Charlie could have considered was planning the battle on wide open boggy terrain, so the infamous Jacobite charge would be slowed to a fatal crawl, while the enemy had opportune time to make use of their far superior guns.

The Jacobites symbol was a white rose, something every soldier wore. Their enemy, led by the Duke of Cumberland, all wore Black Cockades (a black flower). One would think that only in Hollywood could come up with underdogs who engaged in a futile struggle against superior numbers, and forces better armed and better trained who all wore white while the enemy wore black. As I’ve already mentioned, the Jacobite forces were utterly crushed, but it doesn’t end there. It is estimated that as many died after the battle as during.

The battlefield of Culloden has such notable landmarks as a well where injured Jacobite men had gathered around for water, and the British soldiers slaughtered them like dogs when the Duke of Cumberland’s men got around to it. Women and children were mowed down. The Duke ordered enemy troops should receive no medical attention or mercy, and his orders were obeyed.

It was a very powerful battlefield, more museum than field really, but it brought me close to tears several times, just thinking about the merciless slaughter.

After that we made our way down to Loch Ness. I expected it to be outrageously touristy, and probably it would have gotten much worse if we had driven to other parts of the Loch, but of what we saw it wasn’t so bad. Just a nice, serene loch. We visited the beaches of the Loch Ness. Rocky as it was, we found a pretty tranquil spot. I washed my face in the Loch. The water was cold. Some think the Loch Ness monster was cold blooded. Coincidence?

We ate at a café along the loch. I once again made the mistake of ordering with cheese on it and expecting it to come with melted cheese. Once again the cheese was served grated and cold. But the coffee was really good (a rare find!) and my mother and I enjoyed two cups a piece instead of dessert. I made the right choice, as Scott’s cake turned out to be dry and devoid of flavor.

So it was that the VanBone family made a beeline for Edinburgh in the early afternoon. Highway driving the whole way with only one stop for gas.

Edinburgh by Photo