Seeking Feminine Solace Over the Seas!!!
Where I travelled:
Greece (Crete specifically)
England
Scotland
When? in May and June this year, 2022.
E OF THE GREAT GREAT GRANDMOTHER
I leave my field of horses and after a coffee in rural Dunbar, a little breathless, a little in awe of what I have just done, I am ready. I have my schedule, limited though it is, in regards to where I next lay my head! I travel to Dundee, the home of my Great, Great Grandmother Margaret Brodie born 1836. I have no knowledge of her circumstances, only that she left from the shores of Liverpool to emigrate to Australia in January 1860 at the age of twenty-four. I find Dundee to be a windswept, large but empty city with wide streets and Victorian buildings but seemingly few people.
I am here to experience the birthplace of an ancestor, but also to visit the new V & A Museum, located on the waterfront, in a stunning building designed by the Japanese architect Kengo Kuma. The museum is fittingly spectacular and a pleasure to visit, followed by an equally memorable visit to the HMS Unicorn, the oldest surviving British battleship in the world. I found the naval museum fascinating but I was the only person there!! The ship is docked in the shipyards, in the centre of town, and it is just gorgeous in its inauthenticity , but seemingly not a draw card for tourists, as I am its sole visitor. I am not actually sure there are any tourists in Dundee?
Dundee is traditionally seen as a struggling town, a town of historical hardship and of current demographic disadvantage. There is no surviving old town, as much has been demolished, however, despite its deficiencies, it was important that I visited, and I hope into the future, the city finds its soul again after covid has so obviously decimated many of its businesses. I suppose I saw a bit of Melbourne in poor Dundee.
ENTER THE HIGHLANDS – MALLAIG AND INVERIE
I move on, to the highlands and through the beautiful valley of Glencoe, surely one of the world’s most spectacular drives. I am heading for the village of Mallaig on the northeast coast. It’s exactly how I imagined it to be, fishing boats in the harbor, historical houses lining the streets and I am staying in a delightful guesthouse run by two lovely, youngish men who know a bit about stylish design and good food. My room overlooks the harbour and is very comfortable. I enjoy my stay, and my daily delicious breakfast that includes absolutely everything you could want.
There are two highlights to my stay in Mallaig. On the first morning, I chat with one of the owners who asks my plans for the day. I explain I have none but am open to suggestions. He suggests the remote area of Knoydart would be an interesting option, and explains that the ferry to Knoydart leaves regularly, every day. I quickly make my way across the road to the harbour and book my ferry trip to the only village in this remote location, Inverie. I learn that Knoydart is only accessible by boat or by hiking about 26 kilometres. There are no roads, except some pathways around the tiny village. It’s a lovely sunny day and I board the little ferry with about ten others. My fellow travellers are all hikers.
I begin to realise that this is hiking heaven for the initiated. I’ve departed at 10am and discover the returning ferry is at 415pm, so I have all day to explore the area. The boat trip reveals beautiful scenery of mountains, mountains, and more mountains with water surrounding the scene as we travel up Loch Nevis. In forty minutes, we moor at the tiny pier, and I wander the short distance into the village where the famous pub, The Old Forge, is located, famous for being the most remote pub in all of Great Britain. There is a general store, a café, a school, and a number of houses, stretched along a pretty sealed lane that follows the coast. I wander further afield and discover many cottages and houses, all very rustic and rural, most with land generating crops of vegetables and flowers, there are horses and chickens, and the whole well spaced out community has an idyllic, peaceful feel.
There are great tracks of forest between groups of houses, and the trees and plants are thriving and extending their presence. Nature is not curtailed here, it’s allowed to spread, thrive, and even dominate. Humans are not controlling nature, nature is the force it is meant to be. I delight in this experience of being surrounded by unadulterated flora and an almost total absence of people. With so much space, and cars for only driving up and down the local lanes, the peace is almost overwhelming. Strategic benches are placed along the loch. You can sit for hours; I sit for hours. I don’t really know for how long I sit because time was unimportant. That is unimportant until my belly calls. Time for a snack at the café!
A very odd feeling in such a pristine environment. After ten minutes of domination, it disappears. I’ve no idea what all that meant! I end up at the pub, The old Forge, where locals are gathering, and also the group departing on the 415 pm ferry. It’s a welcoming place. You sense you can join in and be a part of it. I order a cider and sit at a seat with spectacular loch views. I’m an incurable people watcher, and pretty good at following conversations, so I am easily entertained for an hour or so, a large proportion of the pub clientele leave together to catch the ferry, with a significant number of hikers at the end of their hiking day. On the pier the ferry comes into view, a little boat with a determined feel given the wind has picked up and the clouds are looming after what has mostly been a sunny day.
Once on the ferry I enjoy an outside perch facing the destination of Mallaig and delight in the dogs on board. By the time we arrive they have all been securely snuggled onto their owners’ laps. It’s a desolate return journey, with extreme wind, grey skies and eventually rain. I am miserable with cold but resolute to endure!!!! Its good to see the sight of Mallaig in the distance. Having arrived it’s a quick exit and a dash to the guest house to thaw out my very frozen bones. Dinner is in a delightful seafood restaurant. No bookings required so you just waltz in and take your chances on a table. I am lucky and enjoy fabulous Scottish salmon. Truly delicious. Probably the best meal I have in the UK.
Its funny watching the different nationalities arrive in the restaurant and react to the situation of no table bookings and a laisse faire approach to dining. One German group seem unable to hear the words “There are no tables available now. You will have to wait”. They repeatedly come back in, at five minute intervals, seeming to not believe they cannot be accommodated. Once they do get a table, after about 10 attempts, the whole restaurant heaves a sigh of relief. Fortunately, the Germans have a sense of humor and realizing their whole interaction has been like a performance, they laugh at their own silliness!!!!
HIGHLAND MEN AND FISHING
The following day I find myself parked at a coffee cart on a roadside not too far from Bonnie Prince Charlie’s famous monument. I start up a conversation with the young man working as a Barista and we discover very quickly that we have much in common. He has traveled in Australia and lived in Melbourne. His sister has just returned from Melbourne recently and so he shares stories of her disastrous lock down experiences. The topic of lockdowns opens up conversation about the nature of the pandemic and the many responses of different countries to the challenges.
We share a perspective. Both of us identify a fear driven decision making and the need of some governments to control its people. We agree the governments were often protecting their electability and giving in to the anxious rank and file. We shared an understanding that these rank and file party members who support the government are overly perfectionistic and lacking a greater point of view in terms of flow on effects of these drastic measures, designed to help but resulting in mass disasters of many kinds to many people. He closes his coffee cart to talk more, and we enjoy many topics that are controversial in nature.
He is a seeker, much like I am, and someone searching for better solutions and a creative approach to life and finding meaning. Out of the blue he asks me what I am doing the following day. I have made no plans, so James suggests maybe I might be interested in going fishing with him in his boat on Loch Shiel. I am delighted and unreservedly say yes. What an opportunity!! How often does an old Australian women get an invitation to take a trip on a beautiful Scottish loch to fish with the local people? We arrange to touch base and fine tune our arrangements first thing the next morning. Wow!!!! You just never know what’s around the corner when you travel alone and when you remain open to an adventure!!!
The next morning, I text James but get no response. A little later I call and again get no answer. I become a little dispirited…..did he not really mean his lovely invitation? Had I been taken for a ride? I decide to make other plans and set off for a peninsula close by where I hope to enjoy some more beautiful Scottish scenery. As I am driving, I get a phone call from James who has risen late in the day due to a reunion with his sister the night before and a subsequent late night. Are we still on for the fishing trip? Absolutely I answer and fortunately I am only forty minutes away. We meet at the coffee cart and then James takes me to his house which is situated right on the loch.
I am most surprised when he demonstrates one of his roles, bursting into song about the bonny, green hills and Scottish smiles (or something like that!). Phil has a rich tenor voice and apparently regularly serenades the folk at the local aged care centre. I feel so privileged, to be on the most magnificent loch, in the Scottish Highlands, and being serenaded by a Scottish balladeer. It really is quite incredible. However, the fish are not co-operating and the lines remain quiet, so we return to the little pier, where Phil insists on taking me to his house, 100 metres from James’s house, to see his photographs of the local area. Don’t worry…I meet his wife in the kitchen and am blown away by the very large images of nature that are now decorating his walls. There is one last gift he offers me.
I haven’t yet seen any deer whilst in Scotland, so Phil offers to take me to where the deer always graze, a very short drive from his house. Indeed, there is the buck, huge antlers splayed to the sky, and I can admire his beautiful face at close quarters. These deer live amongst the people and are very calm. I then walk back to the coffee cart through the forest to say my goodbyes to James. We share a coffee, and Ian his brother, joins us for some fun photos. They are such lovely men. Fun, thoughtful, and hardworking, whilst not being shutdown and caught up with a crazy and materialistic world.
These two are looking for an alternative lifestyle, one consistent with their values and they are very courageous in pursuing their dreams. I invite both to visit me in Australia and its possible they will return to my shores, being the gypsies that they are. I feel totally blessed to have shared this encounter with James, Ian and Phil. I may have had my share of aggressive and dominant men throughout my life, but good men like these three exist and they were so delightfully open to sharing their world with me. Blessed, blessed, blessed. Thank you Scotland….you are truly a soulful land of beauty and friendship.
THE ISLE OF SKYE, LIGHTHOUSES AND COWS
I leave the Mallaig area the next day on the ferry to the Isle of Skye. In Skye I enjoy even more dramatic scenery and wonderful Scottish hospitality. I stay in a very remote area ad jutting the Neist Lighthouse on the West Coast. Once I leave the main road, I find myself on endless lanes meandering around the peninsula. The directions to my cabin are vague and I soon realize this is going to be difficult to find. What makes this trip even more challenging is there is quite a lot of traffic because at the very end of the road is the Neist lighthouse, a famous and iconic destination.
Although Scottish roads do have passing points, there are times it is incredibly difficult on steep hills to pass other vehicles. Those passing points don’t always appear when you need them, so then you must reverse your car on wild crazy bends of road or expect the other car to do the navigating. It happens easily thirty times as I am driving to find my cabin. Eventually, I find it and am disappointed when I arrive. The window is broken, the view that looked so appealing in the booking.com photos has been built out, the tap is noisily dripping, and I can’t work the convection stove top. Help!!! I text the owner. After an exchange, where the owner is incredibly helpful with many helpful suggestions, she eventually turns up, bottle of wine in hand, and we share a lovely conversation.
The previous guest from the night before has put a rod through the window and being a weekend there was no one available to fix it!! My host explains that she was an NHS nurse through covid and has escaped to Skye and started a Airbnb business. She too is devastated when the neighbour started building out her prized view only a few months ago. We discover that we have a connection, and I am instantly reassured and made to feel at home. I cook a meal once the stovetop has been mastered and go for a late-night walk. It is still light here in the highlands in June untill 1130 pm. The sky is misty, romantic, and beautifully pastel in shades of pink and mauve and the sheep are absolutely everywhere.
This is sheep farm territory, and sheep dog territory, and the dogs call out their greeting. The cliffs of the peninsula are metres away, dramatically falling into the North Atlantic, and the birds are nesting, everywhere. It’s an idyllic spot. Once in my cabin for the night I realize my view is still delightful, despite the neighbours big, new house frame, and I leave all the blinds and curtains open…the sky is too entrancing, too beguiling, for me to block it out. I go to sleep, my picture window literally a picture two feet from my bed and I sleep peacefully.
I wake at 4am. Its sunny with blue skies…..weird. As it’s such a gorgeous morning this means I cannot go back to sleep. How often do you get to lay in bed and look out over cliffs, dramatic rocky escarpments, and green, green hills? And then the cows are let out from somewhere beyond my abode. I have seen cows do this in Switzerland. The jump and skip alongside my cottage as they head down hill to their breakfast grass. They are so happy….and their moos declare the mood without any self-consciousness. I do love animals!!. Being so early, I don’t have to get out of bed and I can indulge this vista for hours. It gets so sun warmed in the cabin that I open my door, and the wind has died to nothing.
It’s bliss. I love this kind of experience, so close to nature, so safe and comfortable in my lovely cabin and with a day of driving to look forward to. I leave early and head to the lighthouse as my host has suggested that the best time to visit without crowds is very early. In three minutes I am there and there’s only two other vehicles….they’ve slept here the night. The sun has gone now but the stillness is incredible. I don’t imagine it is a common thing on the rugged cliffs of Skye to have not even the hint of a breeze. The walk is long, down a very steep staircase and over hills passing a colony of seabirds. Very noisy!!! I decide I am happy hanging with the birds and don’t need to see the end of the path. Its good to listen to my body and my soul and not push myself when I really don’t want to. I take my time slowly returning to my car. And off I head, to Dundonnell, a couple of hours further north on Little Broom Loch.
DUNDONNELL, DURNAMUCK AND THE LANDSCAPE OF ANGELS
I have booked a Tiny House near Dundonnell in the small hamlet of Durnamuck. Again, I find my accommodation hard to find. I had assumed too much, and eventually concede that I have to ring my hosts for help. With practical directions I am quickly located at my lodgings and there in front of me is my Tiny House. My hosts are delightful, the house charming and unique and the view is incredible over the Little Broom Loch, with mountains as a backdrop. There is one other cottage on the property, a gypsy wagon, parked quite a distance from my Tiny House.
This accommodation is quite remote and so I have already done my shopping for supplies. I explore the property a little and confront another convection stove top but this one I master immediately. I am learning a lot about the mod cons of domestic bliss in 2022. I plan my schedule for the next two days and go to bed in full daylight, the long drive has tired me. I am very snuggly in my Tiny house with the bed upstairs and the mattress and linen very inviting. I do love a new place!!!! The next day I head for Ullapool further north, a coastal hamlet with ferries to the Outer Hebrides. I hang out in the town for the day, discovering the closest thing to a Melbourne café that I experienced for my whole overseas trip.
Seriously real coffee is served, and yes, I am a Melbourne coffee snob! I have been exploring every op shop (charity) I come across and I find a particularly good one in Ullapool. I buy heaps, a designer bag from London that will serve as my extra hand luggage now that my case is over flowing. The bag is gorgeous and only 5 pounds!! And I find a stunning wooden sculpture, very organic in its shape and primitive in design, carved by fire, a technique called pyrography. I see the links to Viking design and the presence of Viking culture the further I go north in Scotland.
I am reminded that it’s not far from Denmark! I spend the afternoon in the local museum where I discover local archeologists going through tubs of gravel, stone and earth looking for artifacts and fossils. The museum also focuses on the migration of the Scottish to countries far afield and the clearance of the highlands. Ullapool is one of the main towns from which the Scottish people departed for countries like Australia and Canada and New Zealand. My own Scottish great, great grandmother left for Australia from Liverpool. It’s a fascinating story, one close to my heart, and I sense, as I do often whilst travelling in Scotland, that my connection to this story, the theme of hardship, resilience, adventure, and a fighting sense of justice is because these qualities speak and reflect me. I return to my car for my first parking ticket!!! Who would have thought in a tiny Scottish highland town. Silly me and my false assumptions of infallibility. That’ll teach me.
GRUMPY SCOTTISH WOMEN AND COMPANY OF NEW FRIENDS
The next day I head to Gairloch. I read in my guidebook about a lovely café with a view and an attached bookshop. On the way I discover the incredible scenery of The Highland Way….me and many, many motorcyclists. I stop every ten minutes as the scenery is stunning and photography compulsory. The white sandy beaches rival Australia, although they have a loveliness only a Scottish beach could have, with the softness of the light and the absence of the glare of aussie sunshine. The mountain backdrop is desolate, spectacular, dramatic.
This is not a landscape tree covered like Australian beaches that are often with mountain backdrops. Its truly delightful and the remoteness means there’s very few people (more motorcycles). Who you do see are travelers, like myself, many in campervans and combi wagons. I find the café recommended and stand waiting to place my order. Alongside me is a couple who I soon start a conversation with. We chat, and we chat and no one comes to take our orders. We decide we must sit together to enjoy our morning tea but before that I encounter the unusual young woman on the till (who hadn’t called out to us for fifteen minutes as we waited, hiding as she was in a corner).
I handed her my money which she threw back at me “….filthy bloody covid infected money!!! So, I am forced to pay three pounds with a credit card and the additional conversion costs associated. Some in Scotland have not recovered from the pandemic fear. I enjoy the most delightful conversation with my new friends and their two dogs (allowed inside cafes fellow Australians!!!). They are avid Scottish loyalists, protective of Scottish culture and keen for their First Minister to achieve Scottish independence. It’s a great conversation. I love their passion and their individuality and their progressive values. We talk for hours and then reluctantly say our goodbyes.
They are traveling back to outside Edinburgh where they live and I am travelling to the information centre. I visit the Inverie gardens on my return to the Tiny House. The kiosk and information centre are closed due to covid, but the gardens are open. These gardens are famous for the micro climate they are situated in, meaning all kinds of unusual plants can survive here. The gardens are well attended but they’re huge, so social distancing is easy peassy (not that I am concerned). Visitors appear to come from all over the globe given the accents I am hearing.
So, then its home for my last night in Scotland. I enjoy that gorgeous drive back to the Tiny House and the delight of spotting my Tiny House in its pasture. I have been so comfortable in Scotland, so nurtured by the landscape and so inspired by the people, their friendliness (with one exception) and the easy going and languid way of life. This is an outdoorsy culture, despite the weather, and it results in a feeling of groundedness, an embracing of reality and I feel I fit into this country easily. There’s no bullshit in Scotland, no airs and graces (none that I met anyway), and a wonderful hospitality that embraced me and held me and healed me. Sigh……but it’s time to fly to London and then home.
