The Highlands and Islands

I got myself a Freedom of Scotland Pass and took a few days off work to travel around the wilder areas of Scotland, i.e. the Highlands and Islands. These were well-known places I'd heard of even before planning my trip. And the kind of places I thought of would be interesting.

First off I went to the northernmost corner of Britain. This involved a wonderful train ride from Inverness to Wick which is way up north. (Check it out on a map!) The scenery was brilliant, you have dramatic coastline, sheep pastures (baa!) as well as oh, so bleak and barren wastelands, especially at the northern end. For much of the trip, I found myself struggling to stay awake. There is something somnogenic about the quiet rumbling of a train.

Anyway, about lunchtime I got to the destination of Wick, which is a pretty little town, if a little depressing. It has the usual shopping mall although cars were driving on it anyway. There really wasn't much to do here, except take a couple of photos as a souvenir. I did so and the next thing I did was to hop on a bus to John O'Groat's - the northeasternmost corner of Great Britain. (This was included in my travel pass.)

JOG - what a dump! This has got to be the most depressing place I've ever been to, even though the sun shined. About the best thing that can be said about the place is the view to the Orkney Islands for which I didn't even have time to get to. It basically consisted of a jumble of shoddy souvenir shops selling faux kilts and shortbread that was probably baked in a worker-exploiting factory near Shanghai. Humbug! From there I proceeded to Thurso, Britain's northernmost town, another bleak and dingy place from where I caught the train back to Inverness. The highlight of the day was bumping into a group of beautiful girls who had fundraised their way on bikes from Land's End in Cornwall (the other end of the country where there is a place just as tasteless) for the last month and a half. Even they mentioned they didn't like John O'Groats. Well, I was warned!

Next stop was the Outer Hebrides - called Ebudae by the Latins. Enya mentions them a lot in her songs. This involves a boat ride from Ullapool, a lovely resort town in itself. The boat I went on was huge, probably as big as the Spirit of Tasmania. It was full of islanders who had spent some of the summer holidays on the mainland returning to their beloved abode. The scenery on this boat ride was fantastic, it would of even been better had it not been so windy and not rained for a while.

After three hours, the boat finally got to Stornoway, the largest town in the Outer Hebrides, located on the isle of Lewis. I had been told before that Stornoway was yet another one of those characterless towns noted for nothing else but dinginess and depression, yet this time I couldn't be further from the truth. The streets were packed with people, both from the islands and holidaymakers. Cafes and pubs lined the streets giving an atmosphere reminiscent of a seaside resort in Victoria, like Anglesea or Apollo Bay. I checked into a ramshackle hostel I had pre-booked earlier, to find it occupied with travellers around Europe.

The other thing I noticed about Stornoway was that all the streets were in Gaelic with English in small print beneath. Gaelic (pronounced gallic) is a Celtic language spoken by perhaps half of the Islander population. In recent years there has been a concerted move to preserve it, especially by the new SNP (Scottish National Party) led Scottish Government. The island is also well known for strict observance to the Sabbath and conservative religious values, especially the older residents. EVERYTHING shuts down on Sunday, if you have no food in the fridge, you will simply starve. Lucky I arrived on a weekday.

I hopped on a bus to the Callanish Standing Stones - an ancient stone circle originally thought to be used as a burial ground for Stone Age islanders.