True North

As a cyclist, I'd heard for years about the ride from Land's End, the southernmost point of Great Britain, to John O'Groats, the northernmost point. I took that as gospel - the longest ride on the mainland of the United Kingdom. Only one problem. John O'Groats is not the northernmost point; Dunnet Head is. So, off we went, from Inverness to Dunnet Head on the North Sea.

Paul's Hill Wind Farm, Moray

Set for Cialis ad or...

Water troughs for Highland cattle

Ruined cottage on the roadside...

...but given the windows, probably not a crofter's cottage

Karen at Dunnet Head marker

Dunnet Head Lighthouse

The North Sea, from Dunnet Head

John O'Groats. Note that it's 874 miles to Land's End

John O'Groats, above the bay

Ferry from John O'Groats to Orkney

Two English cyclists celebrating after riding from Land's End in 12 days

Fortrose and Culloden

On our first trip to the UK, Karen and I spent a week in Cornwall, including a visit to Land's End, the southernmost point in Great Britain, a land of wind, rain, rocky coasts, giant brown spiders in our cottage, and palm trees. Since we were in the Scottish Highlands, we decided to go to Britain's farthest north point. But, first, a visit to Culloden, and the military death of Scottish independence.

Fortrose Cathedral ruins

In a driving rain, we stopped first in Fortrose, an old cathedral town with, not surprisingly, an old cathedral. Ruins, actually. Built in the 13th and 14th centuries, it began to fall apart only 200 years later.Still visible are the effigy of Countess Euphemia and the partial effigy of Bishop Robert Cairncross.




 

Gothic arch, heavy rain

Effigy of Countess Euphemia

Partial effigy of Bishop Robert Cairncross

Memorial plaque, Fortrose Cathedral

Then, it was on to Culloden, site of the last battle on British soil (1746) and the end of the Jacobite uprising against the Hanoverian line of kings. More than 2,100 Jacobites were killed, wounded, or captured; more than 300 British forces. Bonnie Prince Charlie (Charles Stuart) and the dream of a Scottish king were over. I know that Karen will write much more about Culloden in her blog, Letters from Shenanigan Valley, but this was the next logical topic on our trip.

Boggy Culloden battlefield

We made our visit on a gray day, when the scrubby, undulating fields were as boggy as the day of the battle. The original walls which offered troops firing positions have been re-built, though lower. Blue flags mark the position of the Jacobite lines; red mark the British. Small memorials mark where Jacobite clans fought, and in the shadow of the Culloden memorial that honors all the dead, are smaller monuments to the dead of individual clans, buried on the battlefield.

Plaque on Culloden memorial

Culloden memorial in the mist

Culloden memorial cairn

Monument to the Athols of the Highlands

Karen photographing monument to French who fought for Jacobites

Monument to the dead of Clan Mackintosh

Battle mixes the dead where they can not be separated

Flowers for Clan Munro

School trip to Culloden battlefield

It is a somber place, Culloden, a battlefield, a military graveyard, and a field of lost dreams.

All Creatures Great ... and Creepy

Bailey and her mistress

Britain is a country that loves its dogs, and, so, let's begin there. Along the banks of the River Ness in Inverness, I met Bailey and his mistress. Bailey is a two-year-old greyhound who never raced. Slim, with a halting walk, he broke his hip while playing with another dog and ran into a tree.

Newfie at Loch Ness

Along Loch Ness, we came across two handsome dogs cavorting in the sand - this young Newfoundland mix and his mom, a lovely golden retriever. Chasing each other, sticks and balls, they seemed to be having the greatest time. I, on the other hand kept an eye out for the legendary Loch Ness monster. The closest I came was a mirage of Margaret Thatcher. A waitress in Inverness told us a story about when she and her husband had a restaurant on the shores of Loch Ness. Her daughter kept agitating to see the Loch Ness monster. Mom kept saying there was no Loch Ness monster. Finally, mom snapped, widened her eyes, bared her teeth, and snarled at her daughter, "I'm the Loch Ness monster." That's a serious conversation shut-down.

Newfie's mom

George, a rough-coat collie in Sleat

     

Gun Lodge cat; didn't move throughout a long supper

Ziggy, the Uig Hotel border collie

Rabbits - coneys, in Scotland - at The Castle, Inverness

OK, this is not a real dog, but rather a collection point for guide
dog training. The Brits have these collection sculptures in a variety of places, as well as collection boxes and charity shops supporting the RSPCA.

Nursing milk cow on a two-lane road

There's a surprising amount of open range in Scotland, something with which we westerners are pretty familiar. On the way to Glen Elg, traffic stopped in both directions while this dairy cow nursed her calf. Eventually, an enterprising driver and I hazed her off the roadway, the calf nursing all the while. Then, there was this roving pack of feral black-faced sheep that appeared not to have been sheared for years.

 

This handsome fellow was guarding a small bridge

This shy lamb hid behind a rock...

...until she and mom got hungry

We found these sheep - and then found us - when we visited the graveyard at Cill Chrisoid. The sheep kept their distance, hiding behind roadside rocks and ducking into bar ditches, until we entered the graveyard grounds. Then, these two ambled across the road and looked up at us expectantly. The reason became obvious as we observed widespread sheep pellets on the closely-cropped graveyard grass. Clearly, it was lunch time, and they were hoping we'd open the graveyard gate for them.

These herring gulls are everywhere, so why do people feed them?

Web spider at Cullodden battlefield parking lot

Hermaphrodotic black slug...

...beloved only by hedgehogs

And the stars of the show, the beautiful Highland cattle or, as one of our Idaho neighbors calls them, "hippie cows"

 

On to Inverness!

This was our fourth trip to the UK. On previous vacations, we'd rented a cottage a week for two weeks in the countryside. For the Scottish Highlands, Karen concluded we'd be better off renting flats in cities and towns, using them as "travel central." First stop, Inverness, a city of  72,000 on the River Ness, which would also give us access to the eastern highlands.

Boarding easyjet at Gatwick for Inverness

After arriving at London Heathrow Airport on a very comfortable British Airways flight, we caught a tram to Gatwick Airport and overnighted at the airport Hampton by Hilton - then took the another tram to the proper terminal, having been misrouted by a tram ticket clerk who confused the Hampton by Hilton (North Terminal) with the Hilton hotel (South Terminal). The next morning we flew on easyjet to Inverness and picked up our rental car, an underpowered Vauxhall Corsa 1.4, and lit out for Inverness. This was a familiarization ride. It had been about a decade since I'd driven a left-hand stick shift, on the
left-hand side of the road.

Vauxhall Corsa 1.4. Underpowered, jouncy, but nimble

 

Thanks to brilliant directions from our flat owner, we arrived without incident at our second-story flat, one street - and many stairsteps - above downtown Inverness. An easy city in which to walk or drive, Inverness is primarily built in tones of gray and brown slate, stone, and cobbles. The architecture is a mix of old, older, and mid-century horror, with some beautiful touches.

The Castle - Law court and jail

Doorway on left to our flat

Some of the many rabbits that live on Castle grounds

Flora MacDonald memorial on Castle grounds

Inverness seen from The Castle

Slate and cobble mosaic in downtown Inverness

Oldest church in Inverness - Old High St. Stephens

Architectural detailing

More architectural detailing

The River Ness bisects the city, with the old town on one side and the university district on the other. Walking and driving bridges cross the river at convenient intervals. People stroll, jog, and bike along the river, and laze on its banks.

Herring gulls are inveterate litterers, pulling trash from topped-up bins and strewing it across sidewalks and plazas that are clean except for unusually numerous dots of chewing gum.

Used beer kegs at Ness-side pub

There are shops for every need, including two large grocers (one inside Marks & Spencer), kilt makers, souvenir and woolen shops; and restaurants for every taste, including traditional pubs, Turkish, Indian, Chinese, Thai, Italian, and chippys.

Souvenir shop, Victorian Mall

Fish monger inside the Victorian Mall

Flower shop, Victorian Mall

Inlaid sidewalk detail

We found it a comfortable city and a great gateway to the east and north.