Holy Highland Cows Batman!

The streets of Edinburgh were empty that morning. It was relatively early the sky was clear and the morning blue was striking in contrast to the stone grey city. The air was soft and cool with the promise of a mild afternoon and the streets were silent save for the quiet conversations of my travel companions. We hit the Royal Mile and found a line of buses parked on the street almost like a rescue convoy ready to take us out of the eerily empty city and into the safety of the majestic highlands. After checking in we wasted no time in boarding our bus and settling in for the ride from the center of Edinburgh to the world famous Loch Ness. The bus drove through the city passed several famous landmarks and historical sites and out into the suburbs filled with tiny cottages and green back gardens. In a surprising amount of time we were surrounded by the rustic Scottish countryside with ancient rolling hills still softened by morning mist and fields filled with fluffy white sheep.

Stop #1was in a wee village where at any point you could see from one end to the other. We grabbed a few coffees and wandered around for about 20 minutes before pileing back on the bus for Loch Ness.

Loch Ness is massive. We barely caught to ferry before it embarked, we took seats on the top deck and prepared for the inevitable and glorious battle with the infamous monster of the lake. A recording played over a sound system fought with the wind for the attention of our ears and spouted off random facts about birds and Jacobites. Through the hair blowing unceremoniously in my face I watched the nearly black blue water froth and the hills cloaked in mist, in pure Scottish fashion, pass by. The air was freezing and clean, it smelled like fresh water and forests. Ahead of us the loch seemed to go on indefinitely, through fog and rain the black hills and dark water simply faded into legend. The loch is about 25 miles long and in our ferry moving roughly at the same speed of an old one legged sheep we covered maybe .3% of it. Our trusty vessel sailed out to the remains of Urquhart Castle where we docked for only long enough to fully grasp how beautiful it was from the upper deck of a boat before turning into the waves and heading back. We considered throwing someone overboard to attract the great Loch Ness Monster but decided to procure some swords and shields and come back later. Back of the pebble coated beach I rolled up my sleeve and dipped my hand in the water only to find it was absolutely frigid, imagine my surprise! I couldn't resist. In the tourist center we played with stuffed Nessies and grabbed some lunch before getting back on the bus.

Me, my battle companion and dear flatmate, and my friend Katie.

In a moment of unadulterated childish excitement I forgot about my camera and regrettably did not get a picture of the first great big fuzzy Highland Cows I saw since my arrival. It was a fleeting moment but I would like to believe that as the bus rushed past its enclosure I bonded with the great furry beast. Please trust me when I say it was majestic and adorably and extremely ginger. The Commando Memorial was situated on top of a hill surrounded by mountains silhouetted against the bright overcast. From the top of the hill you could look out at the untouched countryside disappearing back to the mountains on all sides. This was probably the coldest and wettest stop on our adventure and I was hesitant to pull out my camera for fear of water damage. We didn't stay at the monument long and soon were back on the road toward Skyfall for a last major stop: Gelncoe.

The bus flew down a road that wound between dark mountains and I eagerly watched the scenery expecting to see a dragon crawl out of the clouds down the side of the mountain and try to set the bus on fire. I was honestly slightly disappointed that it never actually happened. The bus pulled over and we had arrived in one of the most breathtaking and mystical looking places I have ever seen. Awe inspiring? An understatement. Small streams and waterfalls flowed down the sides and to the green valley below. For several minutes I forgot about the camera in my hand and was lost in the sheer indescribable beauty. While I took several photos not one of them could possibly contain the words needed to accurately describe the scenery.

Glencoe

Prior to our arrival our guide gave us a brief history lesson on Glencoe and the massacre of the MacDonald clan by the Campbells. A favorite legend amongst the locals involves the evil Campbells taking advantage of the MacDonalds hospitality for 10 days before slaughtering the lot of them for no particular reason. The more likely story involved the Campbells being sent by permission of the king to wipe out the MacDonalds in order to set an example for all other highland clans of the power of the crown. The cunning plan backfired and led to everyone hating the king and excluding him from their reindeer games and so fourth. Historian I am not. 
After Glencoe we stopped very briefly near Stirling Castle but because of the time could neither go in nor stay very long. The sunset recolored the large rolling fields in the most elegant way. We stopped one last time at a tourist spot to refill the bus and use the facilities, made dinner plans, and bought more postcards. Returning to Edinburgh felt like returning home after a long day, bone tired and thoroughly chilled my flat never felt so warm.

Stirling Castle

I had this song stuck in my head throughout my time in the highlands