The Events of Thursday, May 26, 2011

                Someone was tickling me. I flopped back against my pillow and opened my eyes. Grrr, Caitlin. Obviously, I had slept through Daddy’s wake-up call. Instead of being annoyed, I let myself laugh and tried, unsuccessfully, to tickle Caitlin back. We made our bed together and then went and put in our contacts. Usually, I can put my contacts in rather quickly, but that was not the case today. I did some calculations in my head and realized today was my day to change my contacts. On the first day of our trip, June 26, 2010, I put in brand new contacts for our new adventure. Since I need to change my contacts monthly, that means today is our 11th month anniversary. Wow, almost a year.

                After breakfast and showers, we piled on all our layers and set out to conquer the Isle of Skye. Our first stop was the local library. You can imagine how silly we looked when we walked in with all of our layers, but it was 7⁰ C outside, rainy, and windy. The librarian set us up on six different computers and we each enjoyed 30 minutes of bliss on the internet. After we had all our e-mails sent, countries studied, and research researched, we headed back out into the biting wind and rain and drove on, deep into the hills of Scotland.

                On the way, we listened to one of Rick Steve’s podcasts on Scotland. The Scottish tour guide he was interviewing, Mr. Edward, died back in his beloved homeland, Scotland, only two days after they recorded the session. So sad. But, at the end of the podcast they played the song, “Loch Lomond”. I loved hearing the choir’s soft voices sing of “the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.” It was quite appropriate in my opinion. On that somewhat sad note, we arrived at our destination for our hike in the Scottish Highlands. After bundling up again, we climbed out of the car. Abby opened her door and the wind stole it from her hand, slamming it open. As a result, everyone else was a little more careful after that.

                The parking area for the hike was near a countryside campground. Only two tents were in sight and these billowed and swayed in the wind. The bathroom building was only opened to campers; therefore, we headed up the trail. The trail was muddy and rocky. In only our sneakers, many of us had cold and wet feet within minutes, but the scenery was amazing. After ascending for a while, huffing up the hill, we took a break. We had climbed so high that our car was just an itty bitty dot on a landscape of grassy green hills and earthy brown fields. The view of the bay got better and better as we went higher. Even though there was a strong wind, the waves only lapped gently on the shore. The sky was misty and grey. What we suspected to be a mountain ahead of us looked like a short, fat volcano, smothered in the fog.

                After about an hour of going straight up, we stopped for another break. Mom’s calves were bothering her, so she asked where the path led. The trail ended at a “loch”, the Scottish word for lake. We followed the trail with our eyes until it disappeared over a ridge. We decided that just beyond that ridge must be the lake, and on we went. Until, we came to an obstacle. It has been raining on and off for the last 48 hours. The path ahead was split by a gushing stream. Daddy said, “Well, looks like that’s the end of our trail.” There were a few rocks that we could have used to cross, but as we headed back down the trail, I realized that we would have had to do some major ballet leaping in order to get across. Also, as I mentioned before, we were in sneakers, and consequently our feet would have gotten pretty cold and wet in the crossing, which would not be an enjoyable experience.

                Subsequently, we wandered back down the path to a spot somewhat sheltered from the wind where we stopped for our lunch. All the rocks were wet from the rain, so we sat on plastic bags to keep our behinds dry. However, even with these bags, the boulders were really cold, and soon, so were we. Thus, we walked around, munching on apples, ham and cheese sandwiches, carrots, and chips. After our meal, we continued on down. The view of the bay was great; hence we stopped to take a few pictures. While we were paused, a couple caught up with us. We struck up conversation. They were both from Ireland and we chatted about the unusual weather. Apparently, they had hiked here before in June and it had snowed! We finished our trail and as a treat, ate cookies in the car. Then, we drove home, through the countryside of the Isle of Skye.

                Once we arrived home, we cranked up our electric “fireplace” and Ben set up the DVD player. We multitasked while watching Pearl Harbor (a very good, dramatic film), editing pictures, writing blogs, and Caitlin even managed to plan for our time in London. I made us a pot of tea and soon we were all warmed from the inside out. The movie was supposed to last three hours, and we were very thankful when it ended just in time for dinner. We ate a somewhat rushed meal of tacos and tortilla chips, before again donning our coats and heading back out.

                Yesterday, Daddy had picked up a flyer in the tourist information office in the nearby town of Portree. The Isle of Skye’s Annual Accordion & Fiddle Festival was beginning, tonight. We were advised to arrive early and we were glad we left when we did. This sleepy little town was suddenly very crowded. Mom had to drop us off at the Royal Hotel and find parking with Ben. The rest of us bought tickets (₤4 each) and walked into the crowded hall.

                It was packed! There were no six seats together, so we had to split up. Daddy and Mommy obtained two seats together on the left side in the back. The rest of us were not so lucky and ended up all sitting by ourselves. Ben sat in the row in front of me, which turned out to be a bad idea, as I couldn’t see anything over his six foot two height! Abby was two rows behind me and Caitlin was alone in the row behind Abby. I talked with the couple next to me until the show began. They were on “holiday” from their home in London. Our conversation was interrupted by an elderly gentleman with a strong Scottish brogue. He was our announcer for the evening.

                The first band that he introduced consisted of two accordions, one piano, and one drum player. This seemed to be the standard set. All of the tunes we heard over the course of the evening were my favorite. (I’m very bad with favorites). The music was bouncy and joyful dance tunes, almost like a polka! Only two of the songs in the entire evening were mournful, but even those soon transitioned into the bouncy songs that seemed to be the norm. The audience consisted mostly of elderly locals. One of the gentlemen who sat near me was very fun to watch. He would tap his little toe and pat his big ol’ beer belly in time with the music. The lady next to him knew all of the songs by heart and she sang along for the majority of the time. One of my ultimate favorite moments of the evening was when they played the national anthem of Scotland. All the Scottish folks swelled with pride and sang along.

                The star group of the evening was the Susan MacFadyen Scottish Dance Band. Caitlin and I were the most excited about this group because we thought they were going to dance, but they didn’t. They played five tunes. This group brought in the one of the only two fiddles used in the entire evening of the Accordion & Fiddle Festival. One of the songs, the female fiddler sung. It was a sad Scottish song and she had a very powerful voice. I would have liked it better if she had been an elderly Scot, but it was a nice performance anyway. After this group, they announced an intermission, but it was already half past nine, so we headed home. We quickly packed our suitcases in preparation for tomorrow’s departure and then hit the hay, the bouncy traditional Scottish tunes playing over and over through our heads, making our toes twitch in time with the music as we drifted off to sleep.