Formal Tours

Formal tours are a great thing. First and foremost, someone else is driving. If they are good, they will not only drive, but back-up, turn around and generally maneuver in places that you were certain they could not all for the sake of the perfect picture. We had all of that and more in Hugh Allison.

Hugh was doing an Outlander tour. For those of you who have read The Outlander series, you will know what this means. For those of you who have not, it simply means that we were able to see places relevant to the book, some real, some that just fit the author’s fictitious places. Hugh was a wealth of information, and a published author. He had a wonderful sense of humor, and I would be amiss if I did not say that if you ever needed a tour in the Highlands of Scotland, Hugh Allison would be your man.

I also should mention the others who were on the tour, if only because we crashed at the last minute. Michelle was a huge fan of the Outlander books, her husband and son, not so much. Mark and Josh hung in there with admirable patience, considering the subject matter. Mark was quick-witted and generally happy, and Josh was a model of politeness, gallantly taking the back seat without complaint.

We started at Clava Cairns,

However, since I covered that in the previous post, I will only say here that Hugh was very knowledgeable about the stone cairns, and it was refreshing seeing it with someone who could explain the fascinating aspects.


We headed to Culloden Moore next.

Since Robyn and I had already spent three hours there the day before, we had hot chocolate and scones while they toured the inside. Have I mentioned how good the food is? When I asked for hot chocolate, the girl at the counter asked if I wanted Marshmallows and cream. I get both? It was heaven, and as I slurped the mound of whipped cream and melting marshmallows, I only wondered for a second how long it would take to walk it off.

Once the group finished with the inside, we all went outside to get Hugh Allison’s expert talk on the battle of Culloden. He was quite educated on the matter, and had many stories to tell, collected from his years of working at the visitor’s center. For instance, Leanach Cottage was occupied up until 1912, when the woman living there, who was 80 by then, finally moved out.

I am talking about a dwelling that is roughly the size of a small living room, and has a roof made of heather. This woman was a battlefield guide, as was her father, grandfather, and great-grandfather.


The next place we went to was something called a Clootie well.





What is a Clootie well? A Clootie well is a place where ailing souls go to rid themselves of their infirmities.  Different theories abound. It must be done on the 1st of May; you must circle the well three times chanting a Celtic prayer, or possibly dip the article of clothing associated with the illness, ie; stocking from an ulcerative foot,  in the well before hanging it on the tree. No matter how many theories there are regarding the placement of the clothing, the one certain thing that everyone seems to agree on is one must never remove something that you didn’t hang, because if you do, you will take on the ailment of the individual who did put it up.

The next stop on our tour was The Storehouse at Foulis Ferry, on the shore of Cromarty Firth in Monro Country.

There was a lovely restaurant with a view of the water, a visitor’s center shop, and of course, the 18th Century Storehouse set up as a self-touring adventure complete with a movie at the end. The
Storehouse was the place the Lairds would bring   their tennants rent in the form of grain or livestock.  It would reside here until they could get it onto a ship to take to a large city where they could convert it to cash.

Next stop was a Mackenzie dwelling; a structure, which served as the model for Castle Leoch in Outlander.
I would not mind living here!
The next place was found after the book was written in an effort “show” what Lallybroch might have looked like. It is indeed, an 18th century dwelling, and serves as a Bed and Breakfast. The owners kindly allowed us to have afternoon tea here.

After a delicious tea, we headed to Beauly Priory. http://www.scalan.co.uk/Beaulypriory.htm This website has some interesting information about the Priory and its history. Although the Priory is amazing in its own right, I could not stop thinking about the 800-year-old Elm tree that marks the gated entrance. If trees could talk, what a tale it would have to tell…

Off the Plane

After so much anticipation, I have finally arrived at my destination, Edinburgh. So far, everything has been much simpler than I expected, which in turn has made for a smooth transition. I arrived at the Bed and Breakfast which is a 10 minute walk from Princes Street in a steady rain, something I fully expected. I even expected chilly weather, but when you leave 100+ degree temperatures, even the expectation doesn't live up to the experience. It was 54 degrees when we landed, and I'm pretty sure, three hours later, it hasn't increased any. But I didn't come for the weather, and many back home in the sweltering heat will tell me to shut up and enjoy it, something I plan on doing.

The proprietor here, is a lovely lady who immediately showed me to the dining room and offered me a wonderful breakfast with hot coffee. The other guests of the establishment had already begun to eat, so I sat and sipped coffee, striking up interesting coversation with them--or as interesting as can be had on a couple of hours of sleep and a glazed look in my eyes that did not go unnoticed. I have to admit feeling somewhat in awe, as a group of them had been on a biking holiday, by which I mean the type of bike that lacks a motor and relies solely on muscle power. One gentlemen had biked the Swiss Alps for two weeks before coming here, planning to make his way to London, while two of the women had biked from Inverness to Edinburgh. I suddenly felt lazy coming from the airport in a cab. Does walking all over the city count for anything?

So off I go, headed for my 10 minute walk to Princes Street. Hmmm...I walk, and walk and walk. I stop and ask someone if I'm going the right direction, and I get a smile and a wave, "just keep going, way down..." The ten minutes turns to more like thirty. Finally I see the Edinburgh Castle, but it seems no closer to me then the moon, perched high on a hill with a park separating me from it. Suffice it to say, I was sweating by the time I reached the Royal Mile, which as the name implies, is the mile leading up to the castle.
The climb to the castle was worth it. Even the very long line to get a pass was worth it, if only for the sake of the picture of Bob.
You see, Bob came at the end of the tour (no small thing since the tour takes several hours), and was something of a shock. His people wanted to remember him, so they had him stuffed. Bob, was a dog-Registered Pet of the 1st Battalion. And as all dogs that were part of any of the Scottish Regiments, they were well cared for and well loved. My tour was over, but I learned a lot about how a town contained within the walls of Edinburgh Castle spills over those walls, and becomes a wonderful city full of wonderful people.

I will close this by saying that It is now 10:30PM and finally dark outside. I cannot keep my eyes open any longer, so the pictures will be posted tomorrow--especially the one of Bob that is my favorite.