3-Day Isle of Skye Tour, Part 1
Days 21: Monday October 31st
I had decided when in Scotland to go on a tour of the highlands, having heard it’s pretty and has cool history and also received raves about the Isle of Skye. So I did some research and chose a three day Isle of Skye MacBackpackers guided tour, which basically went all around the highlands. I chose it because it was not only the cheapest, but had the best/most interesting itinerary, which you will learn as this post(s) unfolds. It was between this or Haggis Adventures, a much bigger company. After 7 minutes on my tour bus I was so glad I went a different way. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
I get up bright and early (around 6) to get to the pick up point for the tour which is clear on the other side of the city, and again, my hostel is about 15 minutes outside of the city in the first place. By the time I get to the check-in point (which is a different hostel), I’m sweating my ass off. I go to the bathroom and take off my Superman shirt, leaving me with just a sweatshirt on.
At around 8, Richard, our tour guide who we would all come to know and love,picks us up. There is actually only eight of us. Let’s meet the Krew:
-Jess L: Let’s start with the oldest. Jess is a brunette Kiwi (New Zealander) who loves Twister and was living in London and doing some travelling before returning home. By the end, she became the organizer, gathering facebook information, e-mails, promising to put together a photo album. Yeah, I’m still waiting.
-The Sweden Duo: Emma L, a brunette ball of crazy fun and Sandra L (that’s a lot of L’s to start), her more shy but just as fun blonde counterpart. They were practically inseparable, taught me Swedish (sukakake), loved taking photographs, and always ate and drank exactly the same thing as each other (they love cider). They also got wet for Scottish music, and who can blame them. Emma was only 18 at the time of the tour but turned 19 right after, and Sandra was 19. And they weren’t even the youngest on the tour!
That honor goes to…
-Jess F: Yeah, we had 8 people and two Jess’. Figures. Jess was 17 (!), fresh from Australia and working at a school forty minutes outside London somewhere. She loves hats, serious talks after drinking, hates bagpipes and would spend our three days falling on her ass. And she’s now legal, gents.
-Guillermo H: The quiet and soulful bearded Frenchman. He apparently loved Edinburgh and the highlands so much that now he lives there. I’m not sure if he lived there during the tour or not, but he was staying at a hostel. Nice guy, loved to smoke, play pool and I found out he’s quite the drinker and socializer in his native language.
-Geunkyung P: Everyone’s favorite of the group, this quiet and adorable Korean lass studied and lives in Manchester, but hates it there, and has a weird obsession with recommending Liverpool, though you get no arguments from me. Due to what must be law to all Koreans, she put the peace symbol in every single photo taken of her on our tour.
-Jordan L (jeez, 4 of 8 L’s): Our boy is 100% Canadian, 100% American and 200% man. And yes, he actually says that, and worse, I think that pick up line has worked for him sometime. Jordan was born in Canada, but lived in Fresno, but basically has been travelling outside the country since before I could grow mutton chops (16 years old, bitches). He was also in the army, and now that he’s out, he’s having fun, and good for him. His last words to me were to lie and not say he’s a douche. No lie necessary, he was the wacky, spontaneous and loud instigator of most of our fun aside from Richard. We had a few bro grabs and miss his snoring.
-The eighth is me. Yeah, boring, move along. I’ll spotlight Richard G instead, our tourguide. A great storyteller (and pretty sweet at bullshit), a phenomenal swearer, a big drinker and a relatively safe driver, Richard killed it as tour guide. Made me want to make movies about every crazy Scottish mythological story he told, made sexist jokes and comments only Scots can make without getting in trouble, wore a kilt with nothing underneath, and loved Meatloaf (the band, though I bet he’d enjoy the food as well). He also rallied us to many things we never would have done normally.
Anyways, in case you can’t tell, all nine of us became like a mini family of sorts over the three days we spent together. We were all young, ready to drink and to adventure.
It started innocuous enough. We went to Dunkeld, a small town by the River Tay (I think all rivers or places should start with what it is; doesn’t the River Amazon sound so much more badass? ) with a famous cathedral (isn’t there a fucking buttload of them? Jesus needs to relax). It was the setting of a battle between the Jacobites and the Camerons, and if I mention every place where a battle of Picts, Celts, Jacobites and William Wallaces took place, this blog entry would be a fitting sequel to one of the best series ever, The Neverending Story. Dunkeld is also in a region of Scotland called the Perthshire Big Tree Country. Guess why. But seriously, they’re mentioned by Bill Shakespeare in Macbeth. All of Scotland is like that: interesting history and funky myths wrapped in jawdropping, boner-inducing landscapes.
Richard regaled us about the tragic story of Mary Queen of Scots, we went on a walk around where the battle of Killiecrankie took place (William of Orange vs. King James VII of Scotland) and visited the ruins of the Jacobite uprising at the Ruthven barracks. I can feel my Dad getting jealous, and he should. One of the first comments he makes is that Scotland is a geologist’s wet dream, and he’s right (my Dad’s a geologist and loves rocks, if that didn’t follow).
After that, bam, most of us all went skinny dipping with Nessie in Loch Ness. So, I had a bathing suit and everyone else that went in was at least half naked, but at least I went in. I won’t say who didn’t, but there were three of them and they were from New Zealand, Korea and France. The water was freezing, but for me and my pathetic, cripple feet, the hardest part was getting in and out of the water on slippery and hard fucking rocks. Not being able to feel my feet helped, though it did result in my first wound of my travels. But I took it as a friendly nip from Nessie.
That dip woke us all up, and basically made us all instant friends, having seen a bit more of each other than we had bargained for. It was the turning point from fun to awesome. It also helped that we were rewarded for our efforts with a bottle o’ whiskey (don’t call it scotch in Scotland).
Anyways, about Loch Ness: I always had this image in my mind that it was small, even if it had a big monster in it. But, uh, it’s fucking huge. It has more freshwater than all the lakes in England and Wales combined, and is the largest loch by volume in Scotland, and there are as many lochs in Scotland as parenthesis in my posts (a lot).
The rest of the day, okay the whole trip, we drove through the highlands (to a Scottish themed soundtrack), and that is treat enough. Especially in the fog and rain; it just heightens the magnificence of the scenery. A shame by the end of the first day my camera had no more room for more photos. Whoops.
By nightfall we arrive at the Isle of Skye, where we all got to stay in a separate house together away from the actual hostel. That night, like there was a choice, festivities took place at the only bar on the island: Saucy Mary’s (supposedly Mary used to tease her naughty bits to incoming sailors, the lucky bastards).
The place had a phenomenal menu: a wide variety of seafood, steak, burgers, pasta, what have you, and I got the venison and I’ve never had better venison in my life. I’ve only had it four times, but still. Succulent, tender, mouthwatering, and paired with a Guinness, I could’ve called the night quits then.
But that was before Rihanna came on.
“We found love in a hopeless place…”
Fun, Singing and Dancing Andy came to play that night, and everyone else followed suit.
The Isle of Skye is a tiny place, and mostly Saucy Mary’s is filled with older regulars, obviously Scottish. But for that night, we owned the place. We danced (even started our own dance circle and got a batshit crazy birthday girl to join us), drank, requested songs from B. Spears to MJ, and by the end, my voice was hoarse from belting it out to my girl, my legs were tired from too much Vengaboys, and I looked like I spent the night in a sweat lodge. By the end, it was just me, Jess F and Jordan comprising the “dancefloor,” vowing to dance to every song played till closing. Then we stumbled in the rain back home, about five hours from a long day of touring ahead of us.
All in all, one of my better Halloweens.
Next: More fun.