There's Something About Scotland

There's something about Scotland

There's magic in the air

There's beauty in every corner

And that is very rare

If Edinburgh was enchanting

Glasgow was exciting

But the Highland experience

Was joy beyond compare

There's something about Scotland

That makes me break into a song

There's something that makes me feel

This is where I belong

Now that the serious poetry is over, over to some cool pics :)

Cute Davie, the totally decadent tour guide who had us in splits through the Highland tour

My tryst with the lone duck

A quaint little cottage that appeared suddenly, yet sat there bindaas as if the highlands and mountains had grown around it to give it company:)

Snow on the hills. Took this pic from inside my moving bus:)

Bagpiper performance on the Scottish Highlands. The tune sounded like its been lifted from our Raravenu Gopabala

Mel on the roadside

View of Edinburgh from the Edinburgh castle.

Whata shot. whata shot !!

Enchanting Edinburgh

At Edinburgh, the first thing that struck me was green. Here, the colour seemed to get a whole new definition. Apart from the green, there was the blue of the sky, the freshness of the air, and beauty as far as my eyes could see. Despite having been warned about the beauty of the place, when I saw it for real, it took my breath away. I knew in that very instant why my friend was besotted with the place.
As I approached the city, I saw the Edinburgh Castle , perched triumphantly on a rock face. There was a valley below with a beautiful park. Even though the castle is now a tourist site, it still gives the feeling of protection as it towers over the city. Walking outside the Castle along The Royal Mile, I saw colorful souvenir shops, bagpiper performances and lovely churches flanking the road.

Further down I walked past the Scottish Parliament, the only modern building I saw in all of Edinburgh . Even so, the building just sat there without pretensions even as tourists busily clicked away. At any time of the day I could see parks and meadows teeming with people. And with shops closing as early as 5 p.m., I wondered if these people ever went to work.

The next day my friend took me to Glasgow by train. We enjoyed living a normal life of a Glaswegians, shopping around the streets and enjoying the people , sights and sounds. We raided Debenhams for souvenirs and immersed ourselves in the scents of “Lush”, a store that sells natural soap and cosmetics. We toured the city that day and spent the night packing for my 9am pick up from the backpacking highland bus tour that I had signed up for

Next morning, a man in a modern kilt waltzed into the lounge and asked if we were on the tour. With orders to get going, we boarded our bus and fell instantly fell in love with Davie, our Scottish tour guide. His irreverence and devilish humor spiced up the next 48 hours of the Highland expedition. Our bus pulled away and we were headed on our drive to the Isle of Sky. Davie taught us the Scottish way to swear and shout Aye!! He regaled us with tales of Rob Roy and loads of Scottish history. Back in school, if only my history teacher had been even half as much fun, I would have scored top marks every term

The Lochs and Ruins and barracks were picturesque and our tour was done at a leisurely pace. At Loch Ness: I did not see Jessie, however I took a creepy picture of me standing on a rock by the Loch and all you can see is a white light and I. Maybe Nessie was there? Who knows!!

We made it to Inverness in the evening and joined the backpackers to check out a Scottish pub! I think Inverness faces a dearth of women. Barely five minutes after our tour group arrived, a bunch of men (probably every man in town) walked through the door! In just a bit, a Scot in bright yellow wellies (Wellington Boots) walked up to us asking if would dance with him and his son. Not that his yellow wellies weren't attractive, but we just told him we needed to retire early and hurried out of the place!

The next day we did an uphill hour-long hike. The mountain was called Old Man of Storr. The view from the top was breath taking. There was a huge rock that balanced on the top and looked like it has been teetering up there for years. Legend has it, that it's a famous giant's you-know-what solidified into rock for eternity! Nothing like visiting those famous phallic symbols on vacation!

I also dunked my face into a river that is said to preserve one’s youth and beauty. It struck me that I was probably dunking my face into sheep urine (as they were grazing nearby)!

After all of us had a shot of Scottish whiskey at Tomatin Distillery; Davie asked me if he could try my hat on coz it looks so cutely “touristy”. Ouch! That word hurt. You know you are a tourist when you think "tourist" is a dirty word.

I had to take the no-reclining –seats North Star bus back to London overnight, so I could go to Paris by Eurostar the next morning. As I settled in five Scots walked into the bus , clearly bombed. They chose to sit on the bench seat behind me. Constantly belching and snorting, these men belted out a wide array of Scottish drinking tunes! It was pure madness, but it sure completed my Scottish experience in a fitting fashion.