On the Way to Oban

When we left Glasgow on a quiet Saturday morning, I was excited to be heading north, towards to the legendary Highlands. Oban was where we’d end the day, but Stephen assured us that we’d have a full day of discoveries en route to the seaside city on Scotland’s west coast. And although the skies were gray and gloomy, I knew enough about Scottish weather at this point to realize that it would certainly be changing over the course of the day. in fact, I could already see the sun peeking through the clouds as we drove out of the city on the Great Western Road. 

 

Before long, sun-kissed green hillsides unfolded around us.

 

Alas, blue skies soon vanished and it was actually raining by mid-morning, when we made our first stop in the village of Luss, a conservation village on the edge of the Highlands. Even with a spattering of raindrops, the village was a riot of color, thanks to the flowers everywhere.

 

Luss is located on the banks of Loch Lomond, one of the many Highland lakes. I welcomed a chance to stretch my legs on a walk through the village. The Parish Church looked quite old but it was actually built in 1875. Just beyond the churchyard, we set out into the woods on the Luss Heritage Trail.

After crossing a small bridge and emerging from the woods, we found ourselves bathed in sun light once again. This is where I got my first look at Highland cows and Scottish black-faced sheep with curved horns.

 

Our walk continued along a wooded path known as the Faerie Trail. Filled with trolls, unicorns, and other magical creatures, the trail is obviously designed with young children in mind. 

  

 

By the time we finished our walk, the sky was a brilliant blue but I was pretty certain the fine weather wouldn’t last. 

 

Back on the bus, Stephen played the Loch Lomond song. It’s the song whose chorus starts with the words “Oh, ye’ll take the high road and I’ll take the low road…” The melody was familiar but I’d never paid attention to the lyrics. Now, thanks to Stephen’s explanation, I understood that it was really a sad song. The setting is the aftermath of one of the Jacobite uprisings and the song tells of two Jacobite fighters from the Highlands who have been taken prisoner by the English. While one is allowed to go back to Scotland, the other is set to be executed the following day. 

 

As we continued traveling north, I wasn’t surprised when the weather changed again. At a very brief stop at the Loch Tulla viewpoint, I quickly dashed out of the bus into the wind-lashed rain to take a quick photo. This was more like the Scotland I’d expected to see.

When we stopped soon afterwards for lunch at the Glencoe Mountain Resort Café, the wind was blowing madly. I had my first toastie, an upscale version of a grilled cheese sandwich with a filling of Brie and tomato.  

 

At a brief post-lunch photo stop at the Three Sisters Viewpoint near the village of Ballachulish, the triple peaks were partially obscured by the low-hanging clouds. However, I was able to admire the distinctive palette of the rugged Highlands terrain. Even in the diminished light, the yellowish-green, deep taupe, light gray and pale purplish pink glowed. It’s no surprise that Scottish tweeds echo these colors of nature. And many thanks to Stephen, who offered us whisky and shortbread before we scrambled back onto the bus.

And once on board, Stephen offered us another Scottish treat, Tunnock teacakes. These individually wrapped goodies consist of a cookie topped with a mound of fluffy marshmallow and coated with chocolate (a bit like the Mallomar cookies of my childhood). Stephen wasn’t exaggerating when he said, if you want to lose weight, you’ve come to the wrong country.

 

At the nearby Glencoe Visitors Centre, I learned about the geological processes that created the Highland’s unique landscape. Glen Coe (glen means a steep glacial valley surrounded by hills, and Coe is the name of a river that runs through the valley) was actually a huge caldera, resulting from the collision of two continental plates 500 million years ago and the subsequent waves of volcanic activity. The gigantic jagged-edged caldera, which formed when the volcano collapsed from its own weight, is 14 kilometers wide in some places. 

 

During the most recent Ice Age, Glen Coe was covered by a layer of ice over a kilometer thick, which melted when the climate warmed around 10,000 years ago. The melting glaciers deposited the huge boulders and piles of gravel that cover the landscape today. Glen Coe is one of the wettest places in Scotland. It receives 3562 mm (140 inches) of rain annually. 

 

A display at the Visitors Centre listed some of the extensive vocabulary in the Scots Gaelic language used to describe different kinds of wet weather (and I have no idea how to pronounce them):

ceòban – misty drizzle

smùid – very fine drizzle 

fras – rain shower 

stealladh – downpour

smugadaich – spitting 

boinnealaich – rain droplet

marcach-sìne – sea spray blown from waves during a gale 

  

There is incredible biodiversity within the shielded environment of the caldera. These include a temperate rain forest with native birch, rowan, hazel trees, and unusual lichens and moss; a blanket bog, a type of peatland found only in a few places in the world with cool, wet climates; montane woodlands with low trees and shrubs such as willow and juniper, wildflowers, and plentiful insects, birds, and mammals; and at the high mountain peaks and plateaus, arctic-alpine flora and animals such as the mountain hare. Also within the caldera, Native Caledonian pinewoods grow on the sides of steep gullies and sheep, cattle, and red deer (largest mammal in the United Kingdom) graze in the wild-flower filled grasslands. If we were lucky, we might even see golden eagles.

 

Displays in the Visitors Centre traced human habitation in Glen Coe back over 2000 years when the Gaels made their home there. Viking raids began in 795 CE and many years of bloody battles followed. After the formation of Scottish clans in the Middle Ages, the glen was held by the MacDougall clan until 1309, when Robert the Bruce granted it to a member of the MacDonald clan as a reward for his support during the constant clan warfare for power, wealth, and territory. The MacDonalds of Glencoe became notorious for their raiding, pillaging, and cattle rustling. In the late 1600s, they also became supporters of the Jacobite cause which aimed to return deposed King James II to the British throne. 

 

The best-known historical event associated with Glen Coe is the Glencoe Massacre. In 1689, William of Orange, King of England, Scotland, and Ireland, ordered all of Scotland’s clan chiefs to come and sign an oath of allegiance. The Glencoe chief of the MacDonald clan was allegedly late in signing the oath and as punishment, the government ordered the destruction of the clan. In February of 1692, Scottish government forces (primarily members of the rival Campbell clan and led by Robert Campbell) attacked and killed 30 members of the MacDonald clan who lived in the Glen Coe valley. Many of those who weren’t killed by the government troops died of exposure when they fled into the wintry hills. 

 

What makes the event more tragic is that for twelve days prior to the massacre, the troops had been hosted in the homes of the people whom they were ordered to kill. Despite this horrific incident, the MacDonald clan of Glencoe continued to support the Jacobites and about 120 clan members fought in the 1795 Battle of Culloden. 

 

Although the area now looks like wilderness, until the time of the Glencoe Massacre, about 400 to 500 people lived in small settlements on the lower slopes of the valley. Thanks to archaeological work, it is possible to gain an understanding of how the people lived in this beautiful setting.

Just a short walk from the Visitors Centre, we were able to see a recreated turf house. The earthen structure is typical of the dwellings that were common in the 17^th century. The inner walls were made of a basket-like framework of poles, reeds, and thin branches while the thick outer walls were made of turf. The roof was covered with a thin layer of turf to which a layer of heather thatch was attached. These homes had low doorways and no chimneys so the smoke from their fires would diffuse throughout the thatch. Turf houses most certainly were dark inside but they were also water-tight.

 

The last leg of the day’s journey brought us to Oban (the seafood capital of Scotland!), which will be the subject of my next post.