The Isle of Skye - The Beauties That Be

The third week of my official spring break was spent in a friend’s flat (the dormitories were being rented out, forcing me to move out for all three weeks) trying to catch up on sleep and feverishly writing my thesis proposal, which was due that Wednesday. I finally sent it off, and then prepared for the second and last IFSA-Butler weekend trip, which was going to the Isle of Skye. Now, I should mention that while it was nice and relaxing to be back in Edinburgh, I was a little depressed at how cold and rainy it was all week long, especially after my time in Rome. But Friday morning came, and it was with sleepy eyes that I walked to our meeting place to leave at 7:45am under dreary skies.

The bus ride up to Skye was broken up in several places for different sights, and it was with great joy that we stopped at a place called Queen’s View, because it seemed to stand in stark contrast with the rest of the country in how sunny and beautiful it was. We walked down a lovely hill to see Loch Tummel up close, but unfortunately there was hardly any time at all for the stop, and I nearly stayed there, staring out at the sun’s reflection on the Loch from a rock far past where anyone else had ventured.

After stopping for lunch further along the way, we made our next stop at the Culloden battlefield. This was a place where an incredible number of Scottish clans fought the English (or rather an army of mercenaries for the English) and suffered a catastrophic defeat. This part of Scotland was as overcast as the rest, and it made for a very sad and somber visit. Walking across the field, learning intriguing but bloody history from our tour guide, and seeing all of the headstones that represented so many people made for a very reflective experience.

So when we arrived into Skye, what an amazing contrast and surprise it was to see that it was incredibly sunny! There was hardly a cloud in the sky, which seems hardly possible in Scotland. After settling into my single room in the hotel (yay!) I had dinner with my friends and then walked off to enjoy the sunset. This was the best part of my trip, really. I walked up to the Skye bridge, which our village (Kyleakin or the Gaelic Chaol Acain - many in Skye are native Gaelic speakers) was right next to, and watched the sun set from its initial descent in the sky until its final slow fade of dull red glow. I walked up and down the bridge at the slowest pace I could, stopping several times and just staring at the eternal beauty of sun. I watched until it lowered itself below the mountains and then retired to a bench by the shore to enjoy the final moments of dusk. I was joined there by a stray cat, and we sat happily just watching the color of the sky slowly give way to night’s embrace.
I woke quite early the next day and found the quaint little village shop, and the lovely pier behind it, where I bid the sun good morning, and fully appreciated that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, yet again. Soon enough, we all hopped on the buses and made our way to the Old Man of Storr. Though I have never been there, I am told that there is a similar structure of rock in New Hampshire with a similar name. Regardless, it was breathtaking, and the idea stuck firmly in my mind that Peter Jackson actually did film parts of Lord of the Rings here, and he was covering that up for whatever reason. Even if not, though, I can content myself to think that J.R.R. Tolkien was from England and probably got some inspiration from here. Here’s a picture to justify my ramblings:

Climbing up to the Old Man was no small feat, but I was a little proud to see that the group quickly segmented by level of speed people were climbing, and I was at the very front (thanks dad and Brendan for all those years in the Quetico and the Superior Hiking Trail). As I said before, it was breathtaking, and I appreciated it all the more when our tour guides recounted last year’s experience of not being able to see two feet because of the intense clouds and rain. It was really an amazing experience, and I enjoyed every second of it, especially how good it felt to hike again.

After that, we headed to Dunvegan Castle, which had pretty gardens, albeit with odd concepts:
The castle itself was more of an impressive mansion than anything else, and I for one was put off by the room with its viewing-hole to a basement dungeon in between the dining room and the study. But I really enjoyed the castle’s grounds, even though it was there that my camera’s battery took its last picture for the weekend (forgot to recharge after break). That night brought another lovely sunset, which I decided to watch from the ruins of a castle that was also by the village where I stayed (great village, really). Watching a sunset from the ruins of a castle is a really unique experience, and I duly and immensely appreciated it. I wrote a bit, but it got a bit too chilly, so I just wrapped myself in my coat and enjoyed the evening sky.

The next morning I awoke early once more and headed out to the pier for my last moments on the Isle that weekend. I happily wrote in my journal, feet dangling over the edge of the pier, occasionally stopping to stare out at the water and sigh. We boarded the buses and left very shortly after that, and I sadly bid the Isle (sunny for the third day in a row) farewell. On our way back down to Edinburgh, we stopped in several different places, which I enjoyed, but dare I say it, I was a little overwhelmed with all the beauty, so the stops became a bit much after a while. The stop I enjoyed the most was at Loch Ness, and though I did not see any sign of Nessie, I did see an enormous swan that might as well have been. I took the time to write and eat bread (favorite food basically) as I wrote overlooking the sunny expanse of water. I also read some of the informational signs, and it turns out that Loch Ness is enormously deep, and there actually is a possibility of a monster living there, in a Loch that contains more fresh water than all of the lakes in England and Wales combined.

After that quiet break, I reluctantly left and boarded the buses once more for Edinburgh. Finally arriving back and being allowed back into my dorm was great and refreshing, but I was a bit sad that the weekend ever ended. It was a perfect end to my three-week break, and I was blissfully happy at how lovely, quiet, and reflective it was.