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A wee taste of Scotland

Isle of Skye, Scotland — If you are someday planning to visit Scotland, you are in for a real treat; all kinds of them in fact like the rather strange Scottish pub delicacy of a deep fried Mars bar.
Dan McSweeney
Dan McSweeney

Isle of Skye, Scotland — If you are someday planning to visit Scotland, you are in for a real treat; all kinds of them in fact like the rather strange Scottish pub delicacy of a deep fried Mars bar. You might even be tempted to don a kilt and feel how the “winds blow high and the winds blow low” underneath your kilt while walking down Glasgow’s Buchanan Street. It’s “smashin” to visit this country not just because of enjoying a “wee dram” while cruising Loch Lomond, visiting historic Edinburgh Castle and seeing the Crown jewels, dining on haggis and neeps, buying a Harris Tweed jacket in quaint little shops on the High Street, or wandering the heather-covered hills to the lilting music of a lone bagpiper. It’s all that and much more – history, beautiful scenery and friendly people – all reminding me of my native Nova Scotia that is in fact “New Scotland.”

Sandra and I along with of friends from Sudbury, Ontario just returned this past week from a trip across “Old Scotland,” watching for the illusive Nessie on Loch Ness (without success I might add), wandering around 13th century castles – and most importantly visiting the remote and spectacularly beautiful Isle of Skye. And at the other end of the spectrum, we trekked the bustling“Royal Mile” in Edinburgh, the country’s capital since the 15th century.  Both places – urban and remote – offered us a tapestry of the things that make Scotland what it is and  left us with memories of a unique country that fuels a remarkable level of exceptional creativity in world class literature and art.

A lot like Cape Breton & Labrador

The 639 square mile Isle of Skye is described as “the largest and most northerly major island in the Inner Hebrides” and is home to about 10,000 people, of which one third speak Gaelic. A drive across the island to the capital of Portree offers a vision of rolling hills and, in places, rugged, windswept mountains of over 3,000 feet; one in particular  near Sligachan that looks like a classic dormant volcano.  It is by all definition a rocky remote place where not everyone could live at ease. For islanders, though, it is probably “heaven on earth” with its panoramic beauty and a unique island lifestyle.

This is not the first time we have been to the Isle of Skye; we were there about a year-and-a-half ago, a trip that whetted our appetite to see more of this wonderful place. Our first visit only allowed us to view Skye through drizzle and low hanging clouds perhaps the more normal state of weather conditions on “the Skye.”  This time, though, the weather was ideal for a peek at “harri coos”* and quaint little villages – although I am sad to report there was not one of the long-haired beasties to be seen anywhere, a source of amusement amongst our band of travellers.

The sun shone brightly, the air was reasonably mild and the winds across the island that can blow up to 100 miles an hour this past week when we were there were no more than stiff breezes that we leaned into while overlooking watery vistas surrounding the island. In many ways, parts of the island are reminiscent of Cape Breton in Canada – beautiful rolling hills and winds that blow like the strong southeast winds in Cape Breton’s west coast known as “les  suetes.” And the mountains are not unlike those in northern Labrador, Canada – albeit that is a place even more remote than Skye.

If you are driving, the roads are excellent. But when you get up to the northern part near Uig Bay, they pretty much narrow down in places to single lane. That’s no problem, however, because there are numerous allotted spots to pull over allowing traffic to flow smoothly and safely. One of the most spectacular views is from above Uig Bay where you can look out over the village of Uig that is home to several hundred islanders. And interestingly enough, I learned that Uigg, Prince Edward Island in Canada (near where we live in Nova Scotia) was named by settlers from this area of Skye.

A city of literature

My first visit to Edinburgh in 2015 was not unlike our first exposure to the Isle of Skye; it had a downside. It had nothing to do with weather. I was holed up in a hotel room on the outskirts of the city as “sick as a dog,” (not that I understand that expression about our canine friends.) My impression of this great capital city of Scotland was therefore clouded by a stuffed, congested head and an aching body that made me want to hunker down behind closed curtains and die. So when people asked me what I thought about Edinburgh, I threw up my hands and described a hotel room ceiling, a bedside box of Kleenex and drinking dinner through a straw – hardly much of a visit to this great city.

And even before I made my first non-visit there, I erroneously surmised that dear old, ancient Edinburgh with its scads of old buildings was pretty much a stodgy old place with castles, museums and hairy-legged guys in kilts. Now I like “all that history stuff” and gladly line up to climb the ramparts with the best of the castle and cathedral crowd. And I have nothing against the bagpipes played between the hours of 10 a.m. and midnight.  What I didn’t know though was that Edinburgh is a rather youthful swinging city with 20 per cent of its population in its 20s. Its downtown streets are lined with restaurants, pubs and nightclubs – all within a city rich in history and literature.

This past week, I saw Edinburgh up close for three days – clearly “the city of literature,” where each August an International Book Festival is held, “the largest celebration of the written word in the world.” Edinburgh is, in fact, the first “UNESCO city of literature,” named so in 2005. It is a place Sir Arthur Conan Doyle of Sherlock Holmes fame once called home, also Sir Walter Scott who wrote Ivanhoe and Rob Roy, Robert Louis  Stevenson who penned Treasure Island and Jekyll and Hyde, and of course  Scotland’s National Bard Robbie Burns. And Edinburgh also boasts such great contemporary authors J.K. Rowling of Harry Potter fame and noted crime writer Ian Rankin. And there are so many others too numerous to mention. It is indeed a place that Ernest Hemingway and my favourite writer J.D. Salinger would have felt the literary warmth.

A city of hills

We arrived in Edinburgh from Birmingham by train pulling into the Waverley station in mid-afternoon. We made a little error in exiting and wound up on a side street; to reach our hotel we had to haul our luggage up a wormhole set of stairs that left us exhausted by the time we got to the top. As we emerged into the light, a smiling Edinburgensian, (one version of what you call a citizen of said city) lent a helping hand and welcomed us to his historic hometown. “One thing you will learn about Edinburgh,” he said, smiling to a Canadian friend accompanying us on our Scottish adventure, “is that when you are not going down a hill, you are going up one.” We all laughed and with the help of a few other obliging folks, found our hotel over on St. Mary Street.

The most predominant feature of Edinburgh, of course, is the famed Edinburgh Castle that is perched high atop the “Old Town” guarding the city from invaders for some 1,100 years. As you drive by the castle on Kings Stable Road, you have to crane your neck to drink in the view of the towering fortress above you. In doing so, it’s easy to understand the challenges faced by castle attackers confronted with such a seemingly impenetrable fortress. In fact, in 2014 it was determined that the castle was besieged 26 times, making it the most besieged place in Great Britain and “one of the most attacked in the world.” Today, though, it is just besieged by wide-eyed camera-carrying tourists; some million-and-a-half each year visit its museums, gaze upon the Crown Jewels and, in August of each year, attend a grand military tattoo that alone attracts more than 200,000 people.

One of the most intriguing places in Edinburgh is just below “Castle Rock” and  known as “The Royal Mile”  where there’s a plethora of shops so you can buy cashmere goods, kilts of course from all the clans,  and “all other things Scottish.”  There’s also a wonderful place called “The Royal Mile Market,” the converted “Tron Kirk” church that is now a retail outlet with almost cathedral-high ceilings, stained glass windows that flood the old church with gentle hues of multi-coloured light and even a café for scones and a spot of tea. The 17th century church has many stories to tell, including an alleged haunting by a little drummer boy who in the 1800’s is said to have  disappeared beneath the High Street while exploring secret underground passages from nearby Edinburgh Castle.

Name that artist!

To be honest, I have never had any real connections with Edinburgh, although one of my school chums was born there. I also once had my picture taken with a famous Scottish rock group that I thought came from the city. I couldn’t though for the love of me remember the group’s name so I asked a fellow in the Royal Mile Market. He seemed quite friendly and was sharing information about Edinburgh with enthusiasm. So I approached him and suggested I had a rather “silly question” to ask about the Scottish music scene.

I gave him the name of one of the group’s biggest hits, a question that made him grab my arm as if he had seen a ghost. “Why on earth would you ask me about that particular song?” he asked. “You might not believe it,” he added, “but the fellow who wrote that song is an old friend of mine.” To be truthful, I have not been able to verify his claim so I won’t go into detail about the tune. He claimed a Scottish musician sold the song for a meagre 75 pounds. And from there, it became a hit recorded by numerous artists. Then his eyes wandered suspiciously around the cavernous market perhaps listening for the faint sound of a little drummer boy wandering beneath our feet in the subterranean passage below. You know, he said, “this is not the first time strange things have happened in this church.”

Edinburgh has so many attractions to see and we only scratched the surface.  It might take a lifetime to really get to know such an historic place in this historic country. I will say, though, the National Museum of Scotland was an unexpected treat. I have spent time in the British National Museum in London and it indeed does feel like a museum, perhaps the greatest in the world. The Scottish museum, though, offers a “sense of fun” with displays of airplanes and motorcycles hanging from the ceilings as well as all other sorts of artifacts to be found in a grand public institution. The pubs and restaurants in Edinburgh were great too. I probably drank more ale there than I have in my entire life. Even without the bending of the elbow, Scotland would still look great through the eyes of this aging “New Scotland boy” now calling the U.K. home in the English Midlands

*Hairy cows – a Scottish cattle breed originating in the 6th century in the Highlands and Western Isles of Scotland.

Dan McSweeney, a Halifax native, first worked as a reporter at the old Halifax Herald, then got a taste of public relations work at Canadian National Railway in Moncton, before coming to Thompson in 1980 to work for Inco. He retired back home to Bridgewater on Nova Scotia’s south shore in June 2007 after 27½ years with Inco here. He blogs at mcsweeneysdiversion.wordpress.com.

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