Scottish Highlands attest to epic past
Years ago, I met a dear man on a deserted roadside in the Scottish Highlands. I was scrambling to make a public television show, and as if placed there by heaven’s Central Casting, this tender giant of a manwas bagpiping to the birds, the passing clouds and the occasional motorist. He had picked a spot that seemed intentionally miles from nowhere. We stopped, and he graciously demonstrated his pipes, giving us a tour of that fascinating symbol of Scottish culture. I’ve never forgotten thatwonderful chance meeting.
The Scottish Highlands are filled with magic and mystery. In the northernmost reaches of Scotland, the Highlands feature a wild, severely undulating terrain that’s punctuated by lochs (lakes) and fringed by sea lochs (inlets) and islands. Whenever Iwant a taste of traditional Scotland, this is where I come.
The area north of Glasgowoffers a fun and easy dip into the Highlands. A smart place to spend the night is in Oban. This lowkey resort town has a famous whiskey distillery and a winding promenade lined with gravel beaches, ice cream stands and good eateries. Wind, boats, gulls and the promise of a wideopen Atlantic beyond give Oban a rugged charm.
About an hour’s drive north of Oban is Glencoe valley. Along with its wild, powerful and stark scenery, Glencoe has some bloody clan history. In1692, British Redcoats came to the valley andwere sheltered and fed for 12 days by theMacDonalds. One morning, the soldierswere ordered to rise early and kill their sleeping hosts, violating the rules of Highland hospitality and earning the valley the name “TheWeeping Glen.” It’s fitting that such an epic, dramatic incident should be set in this equally epic, dramatic valley, where the cliff sides seem toweep with running streams when it rains.
When traveling in Scotland I like to balance the big cities like Edinburgh and Glasgowwith the sleepy, more traditional and — as is so often the case— more enchanting rural and village scene. About two hours north of Edinburgh, tinyKenmore fits the bill perfectly. Little more than the fancy domain of its castle, a church set in a bouquet of tombstones and a line of humble houses, Kenmore offers a fine dose of small-town Scottish flavor.
Loch Tay, nearKenmore, is a fascinating place. All across Scotland, archaeologists knowthat little round islands on the lochs are evidence of crannogs— circular lakefront houses built by big shots about 2,500 years ago. In the age before roads, people traveled by boat, so building houses onwaterways made sense. There are 18 such crannogs on Loch Tay, and one is nowthe Crannog Centre, a museum dedicated to demonstrating the skills every crannog homeowner needed, such as making fire by rubbing sticks.
The Highlands’ past is written all over its landscape. Perhaps no other place is as evocative as the memorial battlefield of Culloden, near theworkaday city of Inverness. In 1746, Jacobite troops (most of them Highlanders) gave it their all to put the Catholic Bonnie Prince Charlie on the English throne … and failed. While only about 50 English soldiers died, the Highlanders lost about1,500 men. Bonnie Prince Charlie reportedly declared, “Every man for himself!” as he galloped away. The Highlanders scattered. Touring Culloden is a powerful experience, made even more so bywatching the 360-degree video that re-creates the slaughter.
Near Culloden is another fascinating sight— the Clava Cairns. I always knew about England’s famous stone circles, but I hadn’t realized that Scotland had fancy-pants prehistoric overachievers too. At Clava Cairns, set in a peaceful grove of trees, are the remains of three stone burial mounds, each cleverly constructed 4,000 years ago with a passageway that the sun illuminates, as if by magic, with each winter solstice. Wandering through these cairns, knowing they’re as old as the pyramids, is thought-provoking.
Music provides the perfect backdrop at the end of a Highlands day. Each evening, in almost every town, the happy sound of traditional folk music spills out of local pubs— and each evening, visitors have the chance to join in the fun.
Celtic music stirs me. Part of its attraction is how it’s invigorated by the driving and organic beat of the bodhran— that ubiquitous hand-held, animalskinned drum thumped with such vibrancy with a single stick. I see the tumult of the past and the love of heritage in the eyes of the musicians. There really is a spark that mixes well with beer, smiles and pub ambience. A night sipping a local brew, surrounded by this unique conviviality, is a highlight of any Highlands visit.