The Twinlaw Cairns, Lammermuir Hills, East Lothian

This weekend I visited my friends in the countryside, as I had heard there was going to be snow. Being from a semi-tropical climate, snow is still quite a big deal for me, so I jumped at the chance of getting even a tiny bit of white gold.

We set out for a walk on Sunday with dogs in tow and thankfully, plenty of snow falling. Over snow dusted fields, across icy streams, through the woods and down into the valley – every old stone wall and wind swept flank we passed seemed to whisper clues to the area’s rich history. I asked my friend if he knew any stories from the surrounding area and he told me a tragic tale from the Lammermuir Hills, about half an hour down the road from where we were.

The Lammermuirs form a natural boundary between Lothian and the Scottish Borders. The name literally means “lambs’ moor”, and sheep farming on the moors have provided the basis for the local economy since earliest times. The Lammemuirs have a rich history – remains of Iron Age forts built by the Celts dot the countryside, and the hills were the scene of many battles between the Scots and English in the 14^th Century until the Union of the Crowns in 1603. In yet another piece of wonderful synchronicity between Scotland and my home, The Lammermoor Range in the South Island of New Zealand takes its name from the Lammermuirs in Southern Scotland.

On top of the hill stand two cairns about 100 meters apart from each other. Named the Twinlaw Cairns, the ancient stones are a monument to a pair of mighty twin brothers. Legend goes that there was once an ancient Scottish chief named Edgar who had twin boys. When the twins were infants, Saxon assailants attacked Edgar’s village, killing many and capturing those not killed. The twin’s nurse was able to escape alongside the chief, but only managed to conceal one of the twins from the invaders.

Many years later, old Edgar and his men again came up against invading Saxons, this time upon the hilltop of the Lammermuirs. As the two sides prepared to fight, the Saxon leader challenged one mighty Scottish warrior to a one-on-one battle. Edgar sent forth his son and an epic battle ensued between the two champions who were matched physically. Steel clashed and blood flowed from the Saxon and Scot, but they fought on until finally the Scot set the final blow upon the Saxon.

Lamenting the death of his leader, an aged Saxon let slip the true identity of the fallen Saxon warrior. He was in fact the lost twin brother, captured in infancy then raised Saxon. Frantic with remorse, and suffering heavily from the battle, the Scot tore the bandages from his wounds and died on the body of his long lost brother.

The two armies, aghast at what had happened, worked side by side to raise two large piles of stones. They stood in a line from the burn to the hilltop, and hand by hand passed stones up the hill to build a lasting memorial to the fallen twins.

The legend was also immortalised in an old border ballad, with the final verse appearing on a plaque at the hill summit. Sadly the cairns were used for tank and artillery firing practice during the Second World War. However they have been restored and you can still see the tragic memorial to local lore at the top of the Lammermuirs today.

“And they biggit twa cairns on the heather
And they biggit them round and high
And they stand on the Twinlaw Hill
Where they twa brithers lie.”

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1. Skye: The Trotternish Peninsula.

The Old Man of Storr

The Island of Skye is nearly always on peoples ‘bucket list’ and with good reason. The island is very large with so many different things to see its hard to know where to start. Dominated by the brooding ‘Black Cuillins’ a ragged mountain range that sits in its centre the island fans out to a number of peninsulas. All of them have spectacular views and hidden gems to explore but our favourite is the Trotternish peninsula.

Travelling north beyond Portree; the island’s main town a strange jagged ridge comes into view, this ridge features the Old Man of Storr, a giant rock tower that sits at an impossible angle near the rugged Storr cliffs. Further up the Quiraing extends the ridge line, the remnants of an ancient landslide of epic proportions. Walking through this area is like entering another world, the complexity of the landscape and broad vistas as you reach the ridge tops is quite simply astonishing.

What else is like this: In many ways it reminds me of Hadrian’s Wall (yes I know thats in England). Also the sea stacks of Orkney.

2. Glencoe and Rannoch Moor.

Glencoe

It would be impossible and indeed unforgivable to not include Glencoe in this list but I would extend it a little south to cover Rannoch Moor, an extraordinary landscape of bogland and small lochans that signal your approach to the glen as you venture north. The main road seems to float over the landscape and its hard not to find yourself trying to imagine what it must have felt like in the days before Thomas Telford build the first metalled road here as people picked their way through the moor. It must hold many dark secrets.

Then there is Glencoe. The majestic Buchaille Etive Mor stands guard at the entrance to the glen with her sister peaks lined up beside her, on the other side the Aonach Eagach ridge, the narrowest and most exposed ridge in Britain is a place not for the feint hearted. Handy parking places are scattered along the length of the glen, nearly always packed with tour busses and the odd bagpiper raking in the cash. The real rewards though, come when you take a step or two away from these busy lay byes and out into the glen itself. Despite its fearsome reputation in winter Glencoe has meny less challenging low level walks that get you away from the crowds and give you the space to contemplate life before the ‘quieting of the highlands’ and the tragic events that have been so linked to this place forever more. Caution and a sensible attitude (and footwear) of course goes without staying, this is a wild place that can claim lives in any season.

What else is like this: Scotland has many deep glens like Glencoe though few are so well known. Glenshiel with it towering 5 sisters comes to mind or for a more scaled down version Mennock and Enterkin passes in Dumfriesshire feels like a lowland rural equivalent.

3. The Border Abbeys

Kelso Abbey

The cluster of small border towns that nestle in the south east part of the Scottish borders feature a ring of magnificent ruined abbeys. In their heyday Monks from the Tironesian, Augustinian, Premonstratensian and Cistercian orders occupied these impressive buildings which became centres of learning and sat at the centre of many small communities. Inevitably though, sitting as they do in the heart of the sometimes lawless border region and with neighbouring England a few hours ride away the abbeys were partly destroyed, much of the damage being done during the ‘Rough wooing’ of King Henry VIII of England.

The violence of that time has long gone now and what is left of the abbeys are preserved as they were left all those centuries ago. Each has its own character and are peaceful places where you can sneak away from a busy market day and try to imagine the sounds of morning prayers being offered up in an echoing chapel.

For people of a fitter disposition it is possible to follow a 5 day walking route that takes in these wonderful buildings. The walk is not too challenging and gives you even more opportunity to explore this often missed part of Scotland.

What else is like this: Our own Holyrood Abbey in Edinburgh of course, Iona (featuring shortly) and Linlithgow Palace certainly have a similar feel in many ways.

4. Arisaig

Arisiag at Sunset

As you take the route north to venture into the North West Highlands you hit the town of Fort William, spreading near the foot of Ben Nevis this busy town is an inevitable stop off for a quick snack and a stretch of the legs. Most travellers continue to the north towards Skye and Loch ness but just taking a left turn will lead you on a journey that rewards you with fantastic beaches, scenes from Harry Potter and romantic tales of Bonnie Prince Charlie. This road which was once a twisting and perilous single track is much improved, it takes in the Jacobite monument at Glenfinnan and an added bonus of a view from there of the Glenfinnan Viaduct a victorian marvel of railway engineering that will now forever be known as ‘the Harry Potter Bridge’. If you are very lucky you might catch the steam train that regularly travels this way on tourist trips puffing over the viaduct.

This was where the ‘Young Pretender’ (not the young wizard) first landed on the Scottish mainland in 1745, raised his standard and forever changed the covers of shortbread tins and tea towels, just a few minutes drive away loch Nan Uamh is where he set sail back to Europe a year later, his followers scattered in the highlands or buried in the mass graves at Culloden.

At the small village of Arisaig is what could only be described as a camper’s paradise, a collection of campsites sit along this stretch of coast set into grassy areas beside beaches with impossibly white sand. Its hard to compete with the feeling of settling down to a mug of tea or something stronger watching the waves on the shore as the sun sets over the islands of Rhum and Eigg. A sunset in Arisaig is not just a sunset, its gods own theatre, and he knows how to put on a good show!

For those who want to venture further though this route has one last gift to give, the Malliag ferry to Skye. An altogether gentler and more dignified way to reach our first destination on the list. As the ferry pulls out of Malliag harbour its inevitable that you catch yourself humming the Skye Boat Song to yourself.

What else is like this: The west coast and in particular the islands have incredible beaches, Tiree for example or Durness in the far north, The small island of Eriskay has the connection with Bonnie Prince Charlie too as of course does Culloden.

5. South Uist

Happy Dog on South Uist!

The island of South Uist forms part of the Outer Hebrides (more of them to feature later). The island stretches from north to south linked by causeways to Benbecula and Eriskay. A modest range of low mountain peaks run like a spine down its east side and to the west is the legendary Machair. The Machair is a  low lying coastal plain, formed by millennia of wind blown, calcium rich sand that forms a valuable fertile layer. The habitat is the fragile home to many species of birds and small crofting communities are scattered along the island’s east side.

There is something about the light here that feels like nowhere else on earth. There always seems to be some drama in the sky as another raincloud skids in over the Atlantic to the sound of oystercatchers and gulls.

This is an ancient place too – Settlers have been here since neolithic times and this is the only location in Britain where prehistoric mummies have been found. Looking at the ramshackle collection of little crofts you are reminded that now just as then the people who live here have a relationship with the land and pace of life that many of us would envy (in the summer at least).

What else is like this: Orkney and Shetland certainly have that feel of a link with the prehistoric past though the Machair is peculiar to the Outer Hebrides. also Barra and Vatersay just to the south and further on, the islands of Islay and Jura.

6. St Kilda

St Kilda

On 29 August 1930, 36 men women and children boarded a boat to the mainland from the island of St Kilda. Breaking a continuous period of settlement that had stretched back over two thousand years. These people were not evicted by harsh landlords, they had asked to be taken away to start a new life elsewhere. For them life in the most remote part of the British Isles had simply become too difficult.

Remote is too simple a word for St Kilda, just getting here is an adventure, and something of a hit and miss affair as the journey over rough seas is not always possible at all. Arriving at the small bay on Hirta, the main island in this small group is like arriving at the edge of the world, the deafening sounds of Gannets, Fulmars and Skuas fills the air and the island itself seems to rise out of the sea to meet you, one second there, one second disappearing as the boat lurches between the waves. As you step onto the shore you step back in time to the moment those last settlers left the island behind. The village street still stands as if trapped in amber, the remains of centuries of island life lie scattered up the hill side.

If you want to come to Scotland and get the feeling of being totally alone try spending a few days here with just the mice for company (and the army personnel who man a nearby base but thankfully never leave their quarters). There is a peculiar feeling to standing on the shore watching the tiny boat head back out into the open sea wondering if it really will be ‘back on Wednesday’ as promised.

Where else is like this: The Monach Islands off the coast of Uist were also until lately inhabited and North Rona is another remote destination. There are also a number of clearance villages such as Bororaig in skye and near Tongue in Sutherland.

7. The Isle of Lewis. 

Callanish Standing Stones – Lewis

A few years ago I was on a flight back from Iceland on a clear summer evening. The flight path took us over the Butt of Lewis and as first sights of ‘home’ go, its about as good as it gets (also see entry number 10). Lewis has become a popular destination recently thanks to Peter May’s ‘Black House’ trilogy of books, May’s infectious description of the landscape has also inspired an excellent coffee table photography book. A trip to Lewis inevitably begins with the long ferry journey from Ullapool to Stornoway, passing by the Summer Isles, the setting for the classic British horror movie ‘The Wicker Man. Stornoway is a bustling small town that has a bit of a frontier feel about it, its a bit rough round the edges and can be a bit wild of a Saturday night before the ‘sabbath’ calls a halt to all activity. But before you disappear off to explore the island, stop off at MacLeod’s Butchers and stock up on as much Black Pudding as you can sensibly carry.

The stand out feature of Lewis is the standing stones at Callanish. For nearly 5,000 years these remarkable stones have stood here. Academics still argue over their true purpose, partly as a burial site possibly as a calendar no one can really say for certain. Folk tales say that they were a family of giants who refused to convert to Christianity and Saint Kieran turned them to stone as punishment.

Like many parts of the west coast, Lewis has its fair share of incredible coastal landscapes with wide open beaches and stark cliffs. As you travel south from Stornoway towards the mountains of Harris you pass seemingly endless expanses of peat bog, stacks of freshly cut peat stacked up and drying ready for collection. The smell of peat smoke is the air is a reminder once again that this is a place where people work and live not just a toilet stop and cafe.

What else is like this: Again, Orkney springs to mind for its unrivalled collection of ancient artefacts (the only reason Orkney is not on our list is because we have yet to visit there and this is our personal list). Wick and Thurso in Caithness have a similar frontier feel about them that Stornaway does and the wetlands of Caithness and Sutherland are very much like the Interior of Lewis in some ways.

8. Iona

West Coast of Iona

Sometimes the beauty of a place is magnified by the effort it takes to get there. If thats the case then Iona must be one of the most beautiful places on earth! First of all you need to get to the island of Mull, that is either reached via a ferry from Oban or by a couple of smaller ferries and a long drive down towards Ardnamurchan. This is followed by a long drive down the Ross of Mull until you literally ‘run out of island’. From there a small ferry takes mostly foot passengers (theres is not much point in taking the car as theres not really anywhere to drive to) over the short hop to Iona. The famous abbey is immediately visible as you land in the tiny village that sits beside it.

Iona abbey is one of the most famous in Scotland. its by no means the largest and would be dwarfed by the Border abbeys though it is one of the best preserved. St Martins Cross is probably the most photographed and recognisable celtic cross there is and the abbey grounds have more than a few famous interments: Kenneth MacAlpine, Donald II, Malcolm I, Duncan I and Macbeth all lie here, as does the late Labour leader John Smith.

The island is tiny and can be walked round entirely in a day. If you chose to do this there is a good chance you will hardly spot a soul the whole time as pretty much all the tourists flock to the abbey. Their loss is your gain though, the island circuit takes in more sandy beaches on the north shore the rugged west coast with crustal clear waters and small secluded bays, a spouting cave and the remains of an abandoned marble quarry before returning back to the village for a well earned drink while you wait for the ferry back.

What else is like this: Right next to Iona is the small island of Erraid. its tidal so can easily be walked to. There is an incredible campsite at Fidden farm nearby too. Holy isle (in England,,, just) is also very similar and also Inchcolm Abbey in the Forth Estuary.

9. Plockton

Plockton

The tiny village of Plockton sits at around the same line of  latitude as Moscow, yet the little road around the bay is lined with palm trees! These are not made of plastic but thrive here thanks to a phenomena properly known as the Atlantic Conveyor though most of you know it as the Gulf Stream. a current of warmer water that runs North-East from the Gulf of Mexico makes landfall on Scotland’s north west coast leading to a far milder climate than we would expect. Before you pack your bermuda shorts and beach volleyball set though remember this is STILL Scotland.

The small village was a fishing community that sprung up in the 19th and 20th centuries in an attempt to slow down emigration from the highlands. The end result is possibly the most picturesque small village in Scotland.  Just like Iona above, getting here is half the fun. There is the long drive skirting within touching distance of the Skye bridge and up the road to the ironically named ‘Stromferry (no ferry)’ , or you can take a more indirect route via Lochcarron, or you can treat yourself to one of the worlds greatest train journeys, travelling north to Inverness and then west via the tiny settlement of Achnasheen through some of the grandest majesty that the highlands can serve up, it might be a long journey but I really wouldn’t bother with a book unless its dark

For those who like an element of terror on their days out then its not too far from Plockton to the small town of Applecross. The last half hour of your trip will be memorable as you wind up the notorious Bealach na Ba (the pass of the cattle) a single track road that twists steeply up an impossible looking slope before sliding down the other side. On the way back you can reward yourself with an early tea at the excellent seafood cafe at Kishorn, where the seafood is so fresh it answers you back.

What else is like this: Rothsay on the Isle of Bute is also known for its palm trees though its a much larger and busier town. The East Neuk of Fife also has a string of quaint fishing villages and Tobermory on Mull is also very picturesque.

10. Edinburgh

Salisbury Crags, Edinburgh

This comes as no surprise to anyone who knows us, after all its where we live. what can you say about Edinburgh that not already been said. Known as the Athens of the North the city has some of the most impressive architecture in the world covering the Middle ages, and Neo Classical eras in particular. Arriving in Edinburgh by train is one of the great tourist experiences of all time: As the train slips through the outskirts it could be anywhere in Britain, then the train dives into a long tunnel, for a moment you emerge to catch a glimpse of the castle rock and gardens before ducking under the art galleries on the mound and arriving in the station. If you have never been before (or even if its been a while) Then walk up the sloping  roadway to emerge on Waverly Bridge. Ahead of you stands the impressive if rather rocket like structure of the Scott Monument, the Classical pillars of the National Gallery and Royal Scottish Academy and behind that Castle rock with the iconic Edinburgh Castle crowning the top. It really is one of the most impressive cityscapes in Europe if not the world.

Edinburgh is bursting to the point of overflowing with history and culture, the compact city centre makes most sites easily walkable (for those who can easily walk), you can take in an art gallery, loose yourself in a museum or scare yourself witless on one of the many ghost tours that run from the high street.

And if all that bustle is too much then in 15 minutes or so on foot you can find yourself at the bottom of the Royal Mile past Holyrood palace and into Holyrood park, Here you can leave the city behind and feel like you are back in the highland wildernesses that I’ve eulogised about above (in fact parts of Arthurs Seat in Holyrood park have been used to represent the wild highlands in film shoots). After half an hour or so of puffing you might find yourself on top of Arthurs seat or nearby Salisbury Crags giving you a reward of an incredible view over the city and down the east coast on one side and up to the Forth bridges on the other.

What else is like this: Glasgow’s west end is for Victorian architecture what Edinburgh is for Georgian. Stirling has its castle too and is handy for Wallace Monument and Bannockburn, Inverness too is worth visiting if only for the beautiful Ness islands and Leakeys bookshop.

Well thats our personal top ten list for now. I’ve set a date in the Calendar to revisit this list same time next year and see what new places we have discovered by then…

Rodger and Amanda Moffet – Scotclans

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I don’t think there is anywhere on earth that can compete with it, it’s a magical place.

Walking in the Rain near Tyndrum

Last week we packed up our camper van and began our journey North-West. We decided to take a two day rest stop on the way by Tyndrum. This scattering of houses on the road north is a popular stop; the West Highland Way has it’s halfway point here and the famous Green Welly stop has become an institution for those travelling along this way. We drove through blazing sunshine all the way and within minutes of arriving the skies darkened over and rain began to fall… typical!

Never mind though, the Real Food Cafe in Tyndrum which serves the best fish and chips in the highlands was a short walk from our camping spot and we spent our free day taking a walk up through the woods to explore the path to Ben Lui.

With the van batteries charged and ready to cope with a few days of rough camping we set off for Arisaig. The journey to this remote part of the North-West highlands is like a history lesson in tarmac. From Tyndrum the road climbs up towards Rannoch Moor and then into Glencoe. Several miles of twisting road opens out at Fort William, a sprawling highland town that was once part of the government’s ‘quieting’ of the highlands but is now an economic and tourist hub for the area. Breaking away from the main route to Inverness you venture into a Jacobite story book; The Glenfinnan monument where Charles Edward Stuart raised the standard and lit the blue touch paper of the rebellion of 1745 and just a few miles further on Loch Nan Uamh where the Jacobite adventure both began and ended on mainland Scotland.

A Picnic Spot at Loch Eilt

On the way we found a quiet lay by to stop for a short picnic. Loch Eilt is a beautiful location and one that might be familiar with Harry Potter fans. A small island in the loch featured as the site of Dumbledore’s grave. There are even more obvious links to the boy wizard on this route too of course, the Glenfinnan viaduct made famous in the second movie and you are almost guaranteed to spot the steam train that takes tourists from Fort William to Mallaig at some point – the train that doubled for the Hogwarts Express.

By the afternoon we had left the main road and we were bumping up and down over the twisting beach road to the site of Arisaig Games.

The Beaches by Arisaig

As locations go Arisaig has one of the best for a highland games you could imagine. From the back of the field you can look over stunning beaches to the Cuillins of Skye and the island of Eigg. This is a useful feature; when the island of Eigg disappears as it often does its time to find shelter!

With every campsite in the area full (and there are many of them) we were fortunate to be allowed to camp on the corner of the games area. ScotClans would be running a stand at the games a few days later. For now though we had a very interesting engagement to attend, the Clanranald barbecue.

On the map Castle Tioram looks like a short hop, even faster by boat but a twisting route along single track roads. Our ageing camper van struggled valiantly over the difficult terrain and after a bone shaking last few miles we arrived at the castle, well not quite the castle but the mainland across from it. Tioram sits on a tidal island and is cut off for a few hours at high tide, unfortunately the tide was coming in so ourselves and many guests had to take off socks and shoes to wade across to the island. in time several boats arrived with more guests and others were ferried over as the gathering began.

Guests Arrive by Boat

In my time I’ve met a lot of clans folk from the highlands and the lowlands, I’ve passed the time of day with many a clan chief but the Clanranald MacDonalds are from a mould that was broken a long time ago. They are welcoming, gracious but absolutely bonkers! Refreshing, hedonistic and above all great fun to be around.

under the presence of the magnificent castle a marquee had been erected. with the sun starting to go down I was keen to explore around the castle and was rewarded with some great shots in the fading light. Tioram is a fantastic ruin but still well preserved in its structural integrity, so much so that restoring the castle would not be impossible or prohibitively expensive. Imagine being the first to spend a night there in a wind and watertight dwelling in nearly 300 years!

Castle Tioram

The night soon fell and the tide once again revealed the sandy causeway back to the mainland and guests began to drift away, Fortunately for us our home for the night was just a short walk as we made use of the fact we had brought the camper van and spent the night in the small car park. While helping to clear up and taking back the camping chairs we had loaned for the night Amanda and I had discovered a large unsmoked cigar tucked in the cup holder. With the kids safely tucked in we stole an hour sharing a cigar and watching the last of the light fade behind the castle. We felt like a couple of naughty kids!

The next day we took a stroll along the beach and helped take down the marquee on the island before retracing our bone shaking journey back to Arisaig. There was more work to do here with another marquee to erect but in no time all was nearly ready for the games.

Arisaig Games

The wonderful thing about small highland games is the way they involve the community, everyone and his dog lends a hand and things may look chaotic but this is very deceptive. There is a method in the madness and in no time everything comes together. ScotClans had been asked here to take part in a new venture for these games, to provide an area that was more focussed on ancestry and heritage. With our experience of Grandfather Mountain Games we decided to replicate much of what COSCA does there and provide assistance tracing peoples clan roots. We also set up a small stall of clan merchandise in the hope that a few sales would at least cover our fuel costs.

The ScotClans Stand, Somewhere in There

The few hours we had there were well spent and the stand was busy right up to the end of the day. We had erected a large world map and invited visitors to place a sticker where they had come from. by the and of the day our map had stickers from Canada to Samoa and many interesting and unusual places in between. It was incredible to imagine how people from so many far flung lands had all descended on this little field beside a beach in the highlands of Scotland and for us it was a symbol of just how far our great Scottish Diaspora have travelled from these shores.

Hopefully our experiment worked and in a few months time we will be replicating this at Cowal Gathering at Dunoon. Our next stop though will be Killin games in a few day time as guests of Clan MacNab.

If you happen to be in that part of Perthshire please drop in and say hello.

To see more photos from our trip please visit our Flikr Gallery

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Grandfather Mountain Games

A few months ago we received an email from Sue McIntosh president of COSCA (the Council of Scottish Clans and Associations) The email contained an invitation to join them over at Grandfather Mountain Highland Games in North Carolina.

We considered the invitation for about half a second before jumping at the chance; Grandfather Mountain must be top of the ‘bucket list’ for anyone who gets excited by the sound of the pipes and the sight of American Scots doing things in their own unique way. Its been on our list ever since we started this business and we never seemed to find the time, now we really had a great excuse to get over there!

Our presence over at Grandfather Mountain would form three strands; the first two of these would be as part of COSCA’s clan caucus schedule. On the Wednesday before the games we would run a short workshop session on Clans and Social Media, then on the Thursday we would take a turn on the stand during the official clan caucus as part of the social media panel discussion alongside Charles Randolph Bruce of Scotland Rising and Hon Alex Leslie, chief of clan Leslie.

The third strand would see us up on the mountain alongside COSCA at the games itself where they do a fantastic job informing visitors about their clan connections. ScotClans and Tartan Footprint would be there to lend a hand and talk to visitors about what we do over here in Scotland.

If that wasn’t nearly fun enough we would also be travelling with walking encyclopedia and all round good mate Dr Bruce Durie. The man who puts the ‘genial’ in geneology.

So with the children safely packed off to their grannies for the week we set off on our American adventure! Our journey would take us from Edinburgh to Philadelphia and then on to Charlotte in North Carolina where we would pick up our hire car to drive to Linville. The journey wasn’t without its mishaps though when the ponderous process of going through US immigration led to us missing the connecting flight, fortunately the next one was only a few hours later but once in Charlotte the considerable amount of hanging around, tracing bags and sorting out car hire meant we missed the chance to enjoy the North Carolina scenery as we set off in the dark, finally getting to our motel rooms close to midnight.

Amanda demonstrates how to build a clan website in ten minutes

The next day we were up and about and headed towards Banner Elk. Lees Macrae University is based in this very interesting little town and the campus was thrown open to COSCA to run their two days of events. While Dr Durie ran his workshop on genealogy we quickly brushed up our own presentation. The Wednesday workshop was a great chance to explain some of the facets of social media and how these could be used effectively for clan societies and other Scottish Organisations. The climax of the workshop involved Amanda building a clan website in real time complete with all the social plug ins while the attendees logged in to watch it evolve live on their screens. Some were even able to send us copy for the site allowing us to demonstrate the content management features that could be used to build a clan web presence quickly and effectively.

On the Thursday COSCA’s ‘main event’ the clan caucus was centre stage. The caucus lasts most of the day with contributions from various panel members including COSCA board and invited attendees. There were some fascinating discussions throughout the day including a discussion on heroes and villains, a presentation about the Scots dispora and a report on the future of international clan gatherings.

Our modest contribution was to take part in a panel discussion on Social Media alongside Charles Randolph Bruce, owner of Scotland Rising who do some great retail promotion and Hon Alex Leslie, chief of Clan Leslie. Alex has been part of the Standing Council of Scottish Chiefs new strategy in getting out in the ‘twittersphere’ and was responsible for launching the Standing Council’s revamped web presence.

ScotClans presenting at the caucus

Over the course of the 90 minutes or so that we had we were able to cover a fair bit of ground and deal with questions from the attendees. All in all it was quite a satisfying afternoon and great to talk to many of the COSCA members from all over the USA.

That evening as Dr Durie and myself relaxed on an old wooden bench outside our motel room we pondered the flashing electronic sign that was erected beside the reception. “there’s something that’s been bugging me about that sign since we got here” said Bruce, “there’s a spelling mistake, the time is 20 minutes slow and the date is 8 years into the future” After fidgeting for a few minutes he decided to go to confront the owner for an explanation. After ten minutes or so he came back, “My ‘weirdometer’ has officially melted” he confessed as he sat down. Bruce had popped his head into reception and asked politely about the sign, after a long silence the clerk looked up and said in his classic North Carolina drawl “It waaas struck by lightnin”. “I guess someone is going to have to fix it eventually” Bruce offered, “nah cant do that, Dwayne put the sign up”, “Where Dwane? Was he struck by lighting too?” “Nah,,, Dwayne’s in prison” At that point Bruce tactfully decided that asking further questions might not be the best idea and a quiet retreat was called for.

‘North Carolina is growing on me’; I thought

As darkness approached Amanda and I decided to investigate what many have described to us as the most unique feature of Grandfather Mountain Games. In the fading light back on the mountain crowds had gathered, a runner entered the arena carrying a burning torch, a memory of the fiery cross sometimes used to rally the clans in time of war, a torch bearer from each clan was given a light from this flame and one by one they announced their presence at the games, adding their torches to a large display in the central arena. The announcements were made with a great display of showmanship and more than a few slightly put on Scottish accents that had me wondering if maybe ‘clan shrek’ were also ‘here’.

Passing the torch

With the ceremony over and everyone stumbling around in the dark to get to their cars we bumped into a great Facebook friend of ours and fellow admin of our Clans and Families group, Heather. I’m not entirely sure how Amanda managed to spot her in the dark but in no time we were whisked off into the woods and to ‘Gordonville’

The woodlands that surround the games play host to a very odd collection of tents, camper vans, trailers and other strange constructions, small communities spring up around the week of the games and the residents are such regulars that they all have their spot and have grown to know their neighbors very well, there is a great atmosphere around the camp fires with singing, dancing and the consumption of no small amount of whisky. We were shown a large stone oven constructed at next-door’s camp where the next day a whole pig was going to be slow roasted. I couldn’t help feeling that these people were here for a lot longer than a week and given half the chance they would live here permanently. If god forbid we found ourselves in the zombie apocalypse Gordonville might be the last stand of civilization!

Gordonville!

And so finally the games weekend was upon us. Friday was a rather short day of helping set up the COSCA tent at the games and the Saturday was the busy day when most of the visitors descended (or should that be ‘ascended’) to the mountain. Getting to the mountain is an adventure in itself; park and ride facilities are set up in fields down around Linville and a procession of old school busses driven by some very ‘old school’ bus drivers lurch up the twisting path through the forest, leaving the tarmac road to follow a one way system through a rough forest track that emerges at the games entrance. The organisation is wonderful and you can tell that this is something that over the years has turned into a well-drilled operation.

Our next two days spent at the games were quite wonderful; for most of Saturday we set up camp alongside the lovely COSCA volunteers who spend their time helping people identify their clan connections and pointing the lucky ones in the direction of the appropriate clan tent among the hundreds that surround the games field. It was a joy to watch peoples faces light up when they discovered that they did indeed have a Scottish connection. One particular family sticks in my mind; they had come to me with a name that sounded more Irish than Scots and they were fairly convinced that this was indeed where they had come from, closer investigation though showed a link with the name MacQuarrie and I was able to pull up a map of Scotland on my tablet and show them the tiny island of Ulva off the coast of Mull where the MacQuarrie clan came from. Having travelled extensively in the area I was able to give them a detailed description of the landscape and talk to them about the many features. I have no doubt that those people were looking at flight tickets to Scotland for next year when they got home!

Amanda manning the COSCA stand

The work that COSCA do over the games weekend (and this is just one of many games they attend) is invaluable to clan societies and they provide an excellent public service. With a little cooperation from this side of the Atlantic and more joint projects there is huge potential to develop a long lasting legacy that will deliver assistance to the clans for years to come. The fact they are embracing social media for example is a sign that they are becoming more modern and streamlined though it has to be performed while still being sensitive to the ‘on the ground’ services they provide.

Rodger, Heather and Amanda

Sunday was an altogether quieter day on the mountain and COSCA were beginning to wind down their weekend, it was less relaxed for Amanda and I as we took this opportunity to tour round the clan village and speak to the people running them. I think that out of all the experiences of Grandfather Mountain speaking to the clans folk was by far the most enjoyable and rewarding. The warmth of welcome we received at every clan tent was overwhelming, especially when they picked up the Scots accent. Quite honestly we could have spent several days working our way round the clans and still not managed to speak to everyone and by the time we were halfway round people were beginning to pack up and go home. “ah well there’s always next year” we said to ourselves and headed towards the bus.

Our new pals at clan Skene

In what felt like no time at all we were sat at the departure gate at Philadelphia watching the lighting bouncing off the control towers and hoping that ‘Dwayne’ hadn’t been responsible for any of the electrical installations at the terminal. The long reverse trip over the Atlantic awaited.

For the last week it had felt like we had all been herded into a large metal tube and taken to a parallel universe that was a bit like Scotland but somehow magnified several times and distorted in an odd but not at all unpleasant way, it was sometimes comical, sometimes touching but never dull. That same tube would now take us back to our own reality and we were genuinely sad to be leaving.

There’s an image of ‘daft Americans’ coming over to Scotland and buying empty bottles of genuine ‘Scottish air’. We all snigger at the joke and think that it’s a great example of a wily enterprising Scot, however if they in turn could bottle enthusiasm of the sort we witnessed over our few days on the mountain then that’s a product we should be importing by the container load back to Scotland and i’ll take a few cases of that!

Rodger Moffet

To see our photos from Grandfather Mountain follow this link

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Coldingham Sands Bay

First of all we drove down to Coldingham Sands, A fantastic secluded beach north of the village of Coldingham. This small bay is popular with surfers and the shoreline is peppered with a haphazard collection of beach huts. When we arrived three surfers were trying bravely to make the best of pretty modest waves and the freezing North Sea. After taking in the spectacle for a few minutes we headed north on the shoreline path toward’s St Abbs.

St Aebbe

The walkway here forms part of the magnificent Berwickshire Coastal Path, a route that runs for 30 miles from Cockburnspath to the Border town of Berwick, from Coldingham Sands the path takes a set of steep steps up to a cliff top vantage point and within a mile of so the small village of St Abbs comes into view. The village was originally called Coldingham Shore but the name was changed to St Abbs in the 1890s, it is close to St Abbs Head, a rocky headland just to the north. The Name St Abbs comes from Saint Aebbe who lived in the 600s. She was a princess and daughter of a Northumbrian king. Like many who followed the monastic life at this time she was part abbess and part politician. Her royal connections worked well and she was able to establish a priory at nearby St Abbs head which lasted until just after her death.

Overlooking St Abbs

St Abbs is a picture postcard coastal town; a tiny harbour which is looked after by a village trust and quaint rows of cottages with envious views and a scattering of cafes and of course the ubiquitous visitor centre. The centre is free and worth a look round. Much is made of the wildlife in the area, in particular sea birds and a handily placed telescope at the centre allows you to spy on the gulls and guillemots nesting on the perilous cliff edges of the headland.

Outside the centre stands a small monument to one of the biggest tragedies that ever befell the east of Scotland. On the 14th October 1881 a terrible storm hit the area, causing considerable damage inland but more unfortunately catching a large fleet of fishing vessels who had sailed out from ports along this part of the coastline. 19 vessels were lost and 189 fishermen drowned at sea, 129 from the nearby town of Eyemouth alone. Many lives were lost almost within reach of their rescuers who were helpless in the terrible conditions. The locals refer to this disaster as ‘Black Friday’

The Memorial at St Abbs

Its hard to imagine what it must have been like for the families of those wretched souls but this touching memorial captures the anguish of those left waiting on the shoreline. Watching the skill of the captain’s of small vessels squeezing through the narrow gap between the rocks to enter the harbour at St Abbs you understand what a precarious existence living from the sea can be.

Starney Bay by St Abbs

All too soon though it was time to return, with promises made to revisit this area and perhaps take on that 30 mile walk! stay tuned…

To see a Flickr Gallery of more images follow this link.

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31st October – Edinburgh to Barra via Oban
This entry comes to you from terribly, terribly rough seas. I thought I had seasoned sea legs, but maybe I’ll have to work on them a bit more considering I’ve spent the last hour unable to do anything but lie horizontally with my guts somewhere near the roof of the cabin. It’s a little bit like those pirate ship rides at theme parks that swing back and forth, but instead of lasting five minutes it’s going to last another three hours.

Loch Long, West Highland Line

The first leg of my journey began this morning at Edinburgh Waverley Station, where I caught the train to Glasgow then changed to the West Highland Line to take me to Oban. I was lost in the world of my newspaper when I looked out the window and suddenly realised we were in the Highlands. It’s incredible how the scenery changes so quickly in Scotland. One minute we’re in quaint countryside and the next we’re surrounded by the beautiful reds and browns of the Highlands. The train hurtled along the edge of Loch Long, then Loch Lomond providing a magnificent view of the steep, steep side of Ben Loman. The train was delayed for about 10 minutes in Ardlui which was a bit stressful considering I would already only have a 15 minute stopover in Oban before the ferry embarked for Barra. However the good people at ScotRail assured me the ferry would wait for me (if we weren’t too late…!). Arriving in Oban, the sun came out and was bouncing off the water to greet me. But I had no time to loose – after a mad dash I made it to my ferry with about five seconds to spare before we embarked. Ironically the ship I’m on is called the MV Clansman. And was a bit confused when I was greeted on board by a man dressed as a witch before remembering today is Halloween.

Made it aboard!

I would say there’s only about 10 passengers max on board. And it’s a big ferry so it feels a wee bit lonely. I guess one of the reasons it’s so empty is the terrible weather that is battering the UK at the moment. Or maybe people just prefer to fly these days. I spent the first hour of the trip with my eyes glued to the window as we sailed through the Sound of Mull. I ventured outside before the sun set and got absolutely pelted with hail while I took the picture below. You’re welcome, dear readers.

The sun went down about the same time we hit the Minch, and that’s when the weather got really rough. I’m pleased to report I haven’t needed to use the sick bags that are planted around the ferry in excess. It’s actually kind of fun going up and down on the high seas – as long as I keep lying down hopefully I’ll be fine!

The Calm Before the Storm – The Sound of Mull

31st October – Arrival in Barra
After four hours of train travel and five ropey hours of ferrying, I’ve finally made it to Barra! However it’s very dark and oh so windy, so adventures will have to wait till tomorrow. I feel a bit sorry for the people who were meant to be sailing onto Lochboisdale after Barra. The captain decided the sea was far to rough to continue the journey tonight. I had my first glimpse of Kisimul Castle rising up out of the water as we arrived, it’s a lot bigger than I imagined and can’t wait to head out there tomorrow. The wind is absolutely howling outside, I was almost picked up and blown away as I trudged towards my B&B. Today’s entry ends with a quote a found in a book when I arrived in Barra – Over and out!

Mountains divide us, and a waste of seas;
yet still the blood is strong;
the heart is Highland
And we in dreams behold the Hebrides.
- Canadian Boat Song, circa 1829

1st November – Kisimul Castle Conservation Plan

The view from my room this morning. Nask, Isle of Barra

As luck would have it, The only other guests at the B&B this morning were a journalist and a cameraman from STV who were here also to cover the Kisimul Castle story. I hitched a ride with them to the other side of Barra, past the wild west coast beaches, to Barra Airport to greet the chief as he arrived on a plane from Glasgow. Barra Airport is another story in itself all together -it’s the only airport in the world where scheduled flights use the beach as the runway. Also at the airport to greet the chief was Ian Walford, Chief Executive of Historic Scotland and Alasdiar Allen, MSP for the Western Isles.

The Macneil and Barra Airport tarmac

From there we traveled along the decidedly calmer eastern side of the isle, back to Castlebay for the ceremony at Kisimul Castle. It was announced today that Kisimul Castle, seat of Clan Macneil of Barra, is to undergo major conservation, archaeological and interpretation work as part of an agreement reached between Historic Scotland and the clan. The announcement was finalised today, thirteen years after Historic Scotland was granted stewardship of the Castle by Ian Roderick Macneil of Barra, the late 46th chief, for £1 and a bottle of Tallisker whisky per year. Construction of the castle began around 1039, making Kisimul  one of the oldest castles in Europe.

The work will see and investment of over £200,000, half of which has come from funds donated by Clan Macneil members, and will go towards three key projects to be completed by the end of 2015. This includes re-roofing the flat roof over the main hall; reinforcing concrete structures and overhauling the chapel roof and incorporating a new timber walkway. The chief was especially pleased that Historic Scotland have made special efforts to record local knowledge of the source of materials used to build Kisimul, conserving the fabric of this stunning ancient monument. You can read the full statement from Historic Scotland by clicking here. I’ve also posted the statement from the Macneil which you can view here.

A Piper welcomes the Macniel and guests to Kisimul Castle

The Macniel and guests at Kisimul Castle

School children from Castlebay School welcomed the Macneil, Ian Walford and Alasdair Allen to the island, with a lovely wee lass playing the pipes. A short ceremony was then conducted in the courtyard of the castle. Later on in the day I met with The Macneil again and interviewed him for about an hour – you’ll have to stay tuned for my upcoming feature with him

I ended the day by venturing up into the hills north of Castlebay where I was treated to a blusteringly beautiful sunset and some spectacular views of Barra, Vatersay and the Bishop’s Isles. I felt like the only person in the world as there wasn’t a soul up in the hills. I can’t quite believe that me, a young woman from small town New Zealand, has ended up here – It really was exceedingly beautiful and some off the most impressive landscapes I have ever seen. Off to Eriskay and Lochboisdale tomorrow – I’m dead tired so better get some sleep!

Hills above Castlebay, looking towards Vatersay and the Bishop’s Isles.

2nd November – Vatersay
On Barra, the main topic on conversation is not the weather, but the ferry. However, I can assure you that all anyone on the island was talking about today was the absolutely horrendous weather that hit the island this morning. I had planned on popping over to Eriskay and Lochboisdale via the ferry, but while walking to the bus stop this morning I got caught in a everlasting downpour and was completely soaked through by the time I reached the stop. I met the island bus driver, Hector MacNeil, at Castlebay Pier and we decided today probably wasn’t the best day to go island hopping. The storm seemed to be getting worse so he very kindly dropped me back at my B&B and told me I could accompany him on his run over to Vatersay later in the day once I had dried off.

It didn’t take me long to dry off (thank the stars for double glazing and central heating – something my modest home in Edinburgh sadly doesn’t have!), and I met Hector a couple of hours later outside my B&B in Nask, just slightly south of Castlebay. We then descended up the hill towards Vatersay, an island separated from Barra by a 250m body of water. Vatersay is the most southerly inhabited island in the Western Isles. There are a few more islands south of Vatersay (known as Bishop’s Isles), but these days the islands are home only to a variety of birdlife.

Hector Macneil on the daily bus and package delivery run to Vatersay

Hector also doubles as a package delivery driver, so he had a few parcels to drop off around the island. In 1990 a causeway was built between Barra and Vatersay so now it’s possible to drive between the two islands. Previously the only way to get to Vatersay was by Ferry from Castlebay. For years the military opposed residents petitions to build the causeway, but in 1987 the Council got an Act of Parliament which said the causeway was needed ‘to maintain the present population of Vatersay and relieve hardship’. The immediate reaction to the causeway saw the population rise from 65 in 1988 to 83 in 1993, and planning applications soar from a mere two in 1985-9 to 24, including four new houses, in 1990-3. The current population of Vatersay is somewhere around 100.

We chatted about the similarities of my home and the Western Isles. Hector told me he knows of a fair few people who have moved out to New Zealand, probably because the industries are the same – farming and fishing. It definitely looks similar except for one difference – there are no trees here – it’s just rolling, rocky machair and heather-ladden hills.

New Zealand or Scotland?

Catalina Wreckage, Vatersay

We then came to the wreckage of a Catalina – a 70 year old plane wreck from the Second World War. Catalinas were often referred to as a flying boat for their ability to land and take off at sea. On the night of 12th May 1944 this particular plane took off from Oban with nine crew on board for a training exercise. They were due to fly over the nearby point of Barra Head, but lost their way and found themselves well off their intended course. The pilot tried in vain to gain altitude and the plane crashed into the side of the nearby hill Heishavel Beag. Three of the crew were killed, with six surviving the crash. The wreckage was dragged down the hill by the RAF, where it has been left to rust in peace for the last 70 years.

Bagh Bhatarsaigh

The wreckage is just near a beautiful white sandy beach on the east coast of the island. You can’t tell from the photos but the rain was absolutely heaving down on us. Further along the road was a monument to the emigrant ship ‘Annie Jane’ which was lost just off the coast of Vatersay in 1853. The ship was en route to Quebec from Liverpool via Glasgow, and no doubt contained many Scottish folk in search of a new life. I’ve been thinking a lot about the people who left Barra and Vatersay, either by force or choice at the turn of the 20th century, and hope to follow this up with a blog post over the coming weeks.

As we approached the village of Vatersay, Hector pointed out the ruins of a substantial house looming in the distance. The house was belonged to the old landlord of the island – Lady Cathcart – and this house was where the shepherd stayed when Vatersay was cleared for sheep. Lady Catchart, who visited the island only once, refused to allow crofting tenants back on her land, and after various court interdicts and some imprisonment of crofters, the Department of Agriculture bought the island and reinstated the crofts.

Back to Barra

We dropped off a few more packages and turned around to make our way back to Barra. On the way we stopped to pick up another passenger, who turned out to be one of the Barra’s celebrities. Maggie ‘Scraggie Aggie’ Mackinnon was featured in the 2008 BBC2 series An Island Parish, which followed the day to day life of parishes in Barra, Eriskay and South Uist. Of course the first topic of conversation was the weather, followed by the latest news on the ferry crossings. We then chatted about Kisimul Castle and the plans announced yesterday. Maggie spoke very highly of the late clan chief, Iain MacNeil, saying how much of a lovely man he was.

Tomorrow I plan to hit the beaches on the West side of the island, but not before attending a Catholic Church service at the Church of Our Lady, Star of the Sea. I was intrigued to discover that Barra is predominately Catholic, and it seems as if religion is a big part of island life, with 80.2% of the population identifying as Catholic during the 2001 census.

3rd November – Star of the Sea and the West Coast of Barra
Barra is one of the only places in Scotland where the Scottish Reformation didn’t really make an impact. Interestingly the North of the Western Isles is predominantly Protestant, with clashes between the two christian factions on the isles extremely rare. I was intrigued to find that Catholicism has had a stronghold on the island since the 17th century – possibly because it was the religion of Clan Macneil, who were ardent Stuart supporters. Even the Cromwellian laws forbidding the practice of the Catholic faith seem to have been ignored on Barra – in Cromwellian times in 1671 the priest at the time claimed his flock numbered 1000. Four years later, two Catholic priests were held virtual prisoner on the island by locals who demanded the priests cater to their spiritual needs.

Church of Our Lady, Star of the Sea, Castlebay

This morning I attended a Catholic Mass at the Church of Our Lady, Star of the Sea – one of 5 Roman Catholic churches on Barra and Vatersey. The church opened on Christmas Eve 1888 when people from all around the islands gathered for Midnight Mass. It seats around 800 people, however today I would say there was around 150 people at mass. I was raised in the Catholic Church back home in New Zealand, so the mass felt very familiar apart from a few prayers and words that were slightly different. Sunday mass still seems to be a staple of island life here on Barra.

I spent the afternoon wandering about the wild west coast of the island. Every now and then I would pass a ruin of somebodys home – i’m constantly reminded of the people who lived here long ago on Barra, what happened to them and where they have gone. The beaches here are absolutely beautiful – the sand is white and the water a deep blue. I kept expecting it to rain all day, and amazingly the bad weather held off! But it’s oh so very windy!

4^th November – Back to the Mainland

Sunrise from Nasg, Isle of Barra this morning

I am pleased to report that this morning’s journey has been the most spectacular smooth sail across the minch. The ferry (this time i’m onboard the Hebridean Isles) left Castlebay loaded to the brim at 8:50am. There are a lot more passengers on board this time, and since it is a bright beautiful day I am able to see everything around for miles. I’m even able to go and stand out on the deck without risk of being blown overboard into the rolling Atlantic.

Hebridean Isles at Castlebay Port

The scenery was amazing as we left Barra, providing spectacular views of Vatersay, Sandray, Barra, Eriskay and South Uist. As we got further out into the ocean I could see the snow-capped mountains of Skye off in the distance, behind the Isle of Rum. We’ve just hit the Sound of Mull, and already am feeling a little bit sad to be back in civilisation. After four days of not seeing any trees, I found it quite bizarre to see a large forest of pines on entrance to the sound.

Bye Bye Barra

I’m currently reading a book about the history of Barra by Kenneth Branigan. It’s quite fitting that as we’ve been sailing this morning I’ve been reading all about the emigration periods in Barra between 1770 and 1840. Most of those who left Barra went to Canada – namely Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and Cape Bretton. There are lots of theories about why people left Barra, but mostly it seems they were fed up with their landlord (Roderick the Gentle – chief of Clan Macneil) and went in search of a better life. Another theory is that by the time the late 18^th century rolled around, the Macneil chiefs had converted to protestantism so were rather nasty to their largely Catholic tenants on Barra.

Branigan’s book also goes into what life would have been like for the people of Barra arriving in Canada. Barra, although very windy, is known for having generally mild winters – which isn’t the case on the east coast of Canada. Nova Scotia offered plenty of pine forests for shelter from the elements, and an endless supply of firewood. But to go from having no trees at all to the vast forests of Canada that needed to be cleared in order to make way for farms was the bane of many a new settlers existence. However Canada provided far better farming than Barra, and land grants were extremely generous (especially to Catholics). Although initially their new life would have been hard, it certainly would have paid off in the end.

4^th November – Oban

Dunollie Castle (bottom right), seat of Clan MacDougall, as seen from the ferry coming into Oban

I’m now on the train heading back to Edinburgh. I had a few hours stopover this afternoon in Oban which was delightful as the sun was out in full force. I was going to try and head up to Dunstaffnage or Dunollie Castle – steeped in MacDougall history – but I’m sorry to say the Oban Whisky Distillery well and truly distracted me. I took a tour of the distillery and where I whole-heatedly indulged in a few samples. The town of Oban was built around the distillery, which was established in 1794. I was glad to learn that there are hardly any waste products in the making of whisky – most of the by-products are used or sold. One example being the grain that is left over from the mash is made into pellets and sold to farmers. In some of the bigger distilleries, the c02 that is released during the distilling process is captured and sold to soft drink manufacturers. Apparently the c02 you’ll find in Irn-Bru comes from the Macallan distillery.

Gull’s Paradise, Oban

I’m running low on battery so I better sign off – It’s been an amazing trip and feel so lucky to have experienced this remote little corner of Scotland. On the ferry back from Barra I picked up a little self-published book in the gift shop called Jura and George Orwell. It’s been my dream for a long time to visit the Isle of Jura and to stay in the cottage where Orwell lived out the final years of his life writing 1984. Here’s to more adventures in West Scotland! Sláinte

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The Pyramid of Khafre, Giza Necropolis, Cairo

It seems wherever you travel around the globe, you can’t miss signs of Scottish influence. From bagpipes being played in far off antipodean lands to Ceilidhs taking place in South America, the Scots have sure spread themselves far and wide. I recently traveled through Egypt, eyes peeled for any evidence of these great wanderers.

Today Egypt is sadly far down the list of travel destinations for holiday makers. The most recent revolution earlier this year (or coup, depending on who you’re speaking with), follows three years of life-changing political change that has turned the majority of travelers off the region, as the country remains stuck in a kind of political purgatory. I was a little nervous about visiting Egypt, but after conducting a large amount of research online, we discovered the situation on the ground was a lot calmer than what is shown on the evening news.

Revolution Graffiti, Luxor

The signs of revolution in Egypt are evident – curfews are still in place, political graffiti adorns city walls, and tanks and soldiers patrol the streets (mainly to keep the few visitors that are still visiting safe). But I have never been more blissfully overwhelmed in my life than when I first set eyes on the grandeur that is the Great Pyramids of Giza. I’ll also never forget my afternoon spent floating on a Felucca down the incredibly tranquil and soothing Nile. And just as in Scotland, every corner you turn you’ll find another historical gem sitting as it has for thousands of years, patiently awaiting you – from Mosques, Coptic Churches and the odd Synagogue, to the thousands of temples and monuments from ancient times.

So what are the ties between Egypt and Scotland? Well, it turns out they both wear.. kilts! Look at any statue of the great Pharaohs that adorn temples, and you’ll notice these titans of ancient times are wearing what my fantastic guide Mustafa refereed to as the ‘Royal Kilt’. My ears pricked up when he said this – as I had been searching far and wide for some way to tie the two countries together. Known also as the Shendyt, this kilt (generally made of linen) was the basic form of dress for Egyptian men of all social classes for thousands of years. And just like Scottish kilts, the Egyptian version is also pleated in the back.

Ramses II wearing the Royal Kilt, Ancient City of Memphis

The Shendyt is probably an adaptation of early hunting skirts which allowed freedom of movement for the wearer. Members of the military wore a version of the Shendyt, as they too would need freedom of movement for battle. A man’s status was also confirmed by how elaborate his kilt was, and how fine the linen used to make it. The kilts of the rich nobles and Pharaohs were often very intricately pleated, and must have been difficult to care for. By the Middle Kingdom, mens kilts had become longer and more complex and ornamental pendants were often attached to elaborate belts.

Upon further research I also discovered that another quintessential Scottish item can possibly trace its ancestry to the ancient Egyptians. The bagpipes roots lie in ancient Egypt and Babylonia, where early double-piped instruments probably sounded the melody and the bag as air supply played the accompaniment. Some sources say the pipes made their way to Scotland via Rome – Emperor Nero (37-68 A.C.) was apparently a keen player. During the Roman expansion into Europe and Britain, the bagpipes were used by soldiers during religious observances, and could have been appropriated then by the locals. Other sources say the bagpipes reached Scotland with immigrants from the Mediterranean by the way of the west coast between 2000 and 3000 B.C., or via Ireland with its close ties to Spain. Or of course it could be that the Highlanders invented their pipes completely independently in pre-Roman times.

If you’ve been thinking of going, Egypt needs you now more than ever as so much of the country relies on tourism. It broke my heart that the major sightseeing destinations had been reduced to ghost-towns. When I visited the Valley of the Kings with my dad, we were the only people there, and felt as if we were modern day explorers discovering the tombs for the first time.

I feel incredibly fortunate that I was able to spend time in Egypt, especially during such a pivotal moment in the country’s immense history. The Egyptians are a wonderfully friendly bunch who will go to all lengths to make you feel welcome in their country. If you’re considering making the trip – go! It’s definitely not your average holiday, but completely worth it for the sights, the people, the food, and even the heat.

I was looked after in Cairo and Luxor by the incredibly wonderful Memphis Tours – Cheers guys!

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The photo was taken by David Elder of East Kilbride, who was at the pier head at Fort Augustus when he caught sight of the disturbance on the loch. The 50 year old insists the only thing that could have caused it is ‘a solid black object under the water’.

Elder spotted the object while taking a photo of a nearby swan: ‘Out of the corner of my right eye I caught site of a black area of water about 15ft long which developed into a kind of bow wave. The water was very still at the time and there were no ripples coming off the wave and no other activity on the water.’

‘Water was definitely going over something solid and making the wave. It looks like the sort of wave perhaps created by a windsurfing board but there was nobody on the loch at the time, no boats, nothing. The disturbance in the water began moving up the Loch sideways. It is something I just can’t explain.’

Check out the evidence below:

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Dere Street was one of the main routes taken by the Romans on their quest to conquer present-day Scotland. Historians point towards the Flavian era of AD 77-86/90 as the road’s conception timeframe, roughly 25 years after the Romans conquered England in AD43. The extensive network of Roman roads throughout Britain at this time connected forts and garrisons across the country, with roads such as Dere venturing out into the northernmost frontier of the Roman Empire. Quarry pits alongside the remains of the road indicate that the Romans dug for gravel to use on the surface of the road.

Not long after the completion of the road the Romans abandoned the north of their new empire, building Hadrian’s Wall in AD 122. In her 2012 book Roman Camps in Scotland, historian Dr Rebecca Jones stated that Scotland hosted the largest number of Roman army camps in Europe, with many found recently by use of archaeological survey flights which hunt for distinctive marks in fields from structures buried beneath crops.

Dr Jones said: 

‘For the first time we have a picture of the true extent of the Roman war machine in Scotland. The repeated campaigns to conquer Scotland were bloody, brutal and ultimately unsuccessful for the Roman Empire. They had to deal with tribes unwilling to be conquered, and strained resources, as soldiers were always needed to fight wars elsewhere throughout their vast Empire.’

Throughout Medieval times, the section of Dere Street between Jedburgh and Edinburgh became known as the Via Regia (royal way). The road connected the majority of Scotland with abbeys and other places of religious significance in the Borders. The section of Dere Street we visited was about 200 metres down the road from Soutra Aisle which hosts the remains of the House of the Holy Trinity church, hospital and Augustinian friary. Established in 1164 by Malcolm IV, the complex provided welcome respite for weary pilgrims traveling to and fro religious sites. The remains must measure no more than a double garage, however it’s believed that in it’s time it was the largest medieval hospital in Scotland occupying a walled area of 700m squared. Archeological work in the grounds surrounding the hospital have revealed evidence of rare medicinal seeds including Henbane, Hemlock, East-African cloves and Opium Poppy.

Soutra Aisle on a visit earlier in 2013.

Precariously positioned on the main route from Scotland to the English border, the church and road would have seen their fair share of desolation pass by during the Scottish Wars of Independence. The road became desolate and disused following The War of Rough Wooing and the Scottish Reformation, when many Borders abbeys were destroyed. It became primarily used for driving livestock, and as a passageway for the occasional traveler daring enough to venture into the lawless Border region. Soutra Aisle went on to become the burial vault of Clan Pringle of Soutra, which ultimately saved it from being completely destroyed.

Almost 2000 years after it was built, Dere Street provides the outline for many major roads in Scotland including the A68 and A1. Today the Soutra section of Dere lies buried behind the A68 in grazing land – the pilgrims, soldiers, royals and travelers who once used the road now a mere shadow of a time long gone.

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I wrote about my adventure for the lovely Bikeable Jo over on her blog which chronicles cycling adventures on the streets of Edinburgh. I also discovered that the bicycle was invented by none other than a Scotsman – good work Scotland! You can read my post here, and I’ve also uploaded an album to Tartan Footprint with my photos from the journey.

Happy reading!

The Innocent Railway Tunnel

Craigmillar Castle

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