I have recently returned from a wonderful week in the Scottish Highlands, which was my first proper holiday since before the pandemic. I went back to Oban because I felt that I needed to spend some time by the sea. The weather was mild for Scotland at this time of year and we had lots of sunshine, with one or two heavy downpours mixed in. It wouldn't be Scotland without rain.
I re-visited some lovely places. From Oban I went on the ferry across to the Isle of Mull. The sea was choppy that day, so we were not allowed to stay up on deck but had to sit in the lounge area instead. Only the Crew were allowed outside. I missed feeling the wind and the sea-spray, but it was also nice to be tucked up, warm and dry inside the boat, to feel the gentle rocking motion as we made our way out to the Islands. Tobermory is such a pretty little town. I like all the pastel painted shops on the harbor. I spent a nice day here exploring, before catching the ferry back at 7pm, by which time it was pitch dark. This was the first time I had ever been to sea in the dark and I was a bit nervous. The waters were black, like ink. Once again, we had to sit in the safety of the lounge, so you couldn't really see anything except black water. I thought I might be scared to be sailing after dark, but the rocking motion and the darkness lulled me off to sleep. I had a nice nap and woke to a Crewman gently shaking my shoulder saying "Wake up lassie, we're here"!
I also explored much more of Oban than on previous occasions. I spent a lot of time in Dunollie Woods which is just beautiful. It is also called the Witches Woods, on account of there being a coven who operated there in support of Clan MacDougal. The MacDougals were against the Bruce because they were kin to Clan Comyn by marriage. In fact, Robert the Bruce sacked Dunollie Castle in retribution for their disobedience.
I am always very aware when I am in enemy territory and much of the Highlands is historically enemy territory to a Bruce. That's why I like to go there - for devilment! - and because the fact is, Robert won and so its all Bruce territory now! But it did feel like the woods welcomed me in. Perhaps the tree spirits recognized a witch and chose to ignore my Bruce blood. I certainly saw quite a few faces in the bark, Ents watching over me, smiling in welcome. I even found a cave that looked like the perfect home for a forest witch, such as Corrag or Nicnevin. I've posted lots of Highlands photos on my Twitter, so head over there if you want to see these magical places.
After the woods, I decided to tackle McCaig's Tower, which is a huge folly built at the top of Battery Hill in Oban. At nighttime the Tower is all lit up with purple lights and it looks very pretty. I have tried to go there once before, but the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) got the better of me. This time I was determined to make it. I knew that I would only need to do it once, so instead of taking the slope which had defeated me the last time, I went up the steps - over 100 of them! - and this time I made it to the very top! The views are stunning. You can see the Islands and the whole harbor town of Oban is laid out beneath you. It was worth the climb, but I don't feel the need to do it twice.
I was in Oban for Samhain. I love spending Halloween in Scotland. The hotels were decorated with cobwebs and pumpkins on the steps, so it all looked very festive. The local kids and teens were out guising and the hotel reception had a big cauldron of sweeties ready for them. It was a nice atmosphere. I cast my spells into the sea at high tide, using pebbles and leaves that I had collected earlier that day. I always try to cast a spell into the sea whenever I am at the coast, and thus far, they have always been effective, so we shall see what the Bay of Oban brings my way in the coming months. Casting in Scotland on the night of Samhain felt particularly magical.
I think by far the best day of the holiday was the one I spent in Glencoe. The weather was against us from the start, with pouring rain and a blowing wind, but that just made for some beautiful waterfalls coming down the mountains as we went through Argyll. I've been driven through Glencoe a few times and I am always stunned by its magnificence. It really is a Highland Cathedral, so majestic and somehow holy. It's a very special place and I am deeply fond of it. I explored the Visitor Center and learnt more about the tragic Massacre of Glencoe. This is an aspect of Scottish history that has always had the power to move me to tears. After watching the short film at the Center, I knew I wanted to retrace the footsteps of Clan MacDonald. So I decided, on a whim, to head up the mountain to the View Point. Like you do. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the winds up there that day were coming in at 60-80 miles an hour. I didn't discover that until much later!
So off I went, on my own, the intrepid explorer. I didn't tell anyone where I was going (mistake No1) and armed with my trusty Accessorize pink umbrella to keep the rain off (mistake No2) I set off up the mountain track, heading for the view point at the very top. Well, what an adventure that turned out to be! To begin with all was well. The lower regions of the mountain were forested, which kept much of the wind and rain at bay. This also gave the false impression that the weather wasn't so bad.The autumn colours were bold and bright and I was enjoying myself. The walk was more of a hike than I'd imagined and quite steep, but I was doing okay for a while. I didn't see any wildlife at all though. No birds or squirrels. Certainly no stags. This was the first message from the mountain. I ignored it (mistake No3).
I have always known that Glencoe is lethal in the wintertime. I know that it has taken many lives, including the lives of experienced climbers and mountaineers. What I discovered is that Glencoe is just as dangerous in the autumn too. It doesn't need snow to kill someone. It is not a place to be messed with or taken lightly. And a city girl with a fetching pink umbrella is no match for it!
As I walked up the mountain, it got steeper and steeper, like mountains do. This should not have come as a surprise, but it did. The higher I got, the worse the weather seemed to become. The winds got stronger. The paths gave way to deer tracks and the deer tracks gave way to a slippery, muddy mess. The rain turned to sleet, then hail. All that rain had to go somewhere and so the deer tracks became a river beneath my feet. At one point, I was ankle deep in watery mud, slipping and sliding my way forwards as best I could. With an umbrella in one hand and my handbag in the other, I wasn't really hands-free to help myself with the climb. I was surrounded by mud and I had no idea if I was still on the path or not. And I still hadn't seen any wildlife. Not even a bird.
When I cleared the treeline, it was like all hell was let loose upon me. Without the shelter of the forest the wind screamed down at me with a banshee's voice, taking hold of my umbrella and using it like a sail, almost carrying me clean off the side of the mountain. I managed to grab onto a wayward tree as the wind took hold of me like a rag doll. My umbrella was now a tangled mess of twisted spokes, but luckily it was the only thing that was broken. I was still in one piece. This was the second message from the mountain. I paid attention.
I took out my phone and quickly snapped the photo that is at the top of this post. This was the place where I was almost swept off the mountain and for some reason, I wanted to remember the moment. I don't know why. I don't think I was thinking very clearly. My ears were popping and I felt quite dizzy, but that's when I noticed that my phone had lost signal.
At this point I was about two thirds of the way up the mountain. I couldn't even see the top though, as it was covered in thick cloud. I realized that even if I made it to the View Point, there wouldn't be much of a view to see! And the wind would be stronger than ever up there on the summit. I also realized that I was somewhat lost. I couldn't see the path down. It was all just mud. To be honest, I felt a bit scared and panicky then. So although the Bruce spirit was still urging me to press-ahead (Aye yer almost there lassie, keep going, dinna give up now! I swear that thing is gonna kill me one day!) common sense kicked in, told me that I was being reckless and that I should heed the friendly warning of the mountain and turn back. Today was not the weather for it. There would be other days. I could always come back. In the summer.
Carefully I made my way back into the main tree-line and sat on a soggy stump to weigh up my options. I was lost and alone on Glencoe, in gale force winds and all I had with me was a Mars chocolate milkshake, a packet of shortbread, a sgian-dubh that still had a blunt edge, a phone with no signal and a pink umbrella that was now broken. So I decided I might as well have a little picnic. After all, Glencoe was still beautiful and I still felt very lucky to be there.
After some shortbread and a drink of milkshake I started to feel much better. Normally when I am lost in the Highlands, I call the King Stag and sure enough a stag will happen along and all I have to do is follow him and he leads me to a place I know. But there were no stags for me to call. They were no doubt sheltering down in the Glen itself, being far wiser than me! Instead, I closed my eyes and invoked the MacDonalds. Glencoe is, so they say, full of their ghosts and hadn't I wanted to walk in their footsteps? I introduced myself as a Bruce and apologized for underestimating their mountains, for not respecting them enough and I asked them to guide me safely off the mountain.
A few moments later I had what felt like an epiphany. I didn't need to find the path or even know where it was - I just needed to head downhill! So long as I was going down, I was going in the right direction. So off I went, feeling safe and protected. I didn't feel alone anymore. I felt surrounded, but in a good way. I knew I'd be okay. I knew the MacDonalds were with the Bruce, as they always have been. Sure enough, a while later, I emerged from the forest at the bottom of the mountain, coming out on a completely different path to the one I went up, so I had indeed been quite lost up there. I turned and thanked the mountain for the adventure, thanked the Macdonalds for their wise guidance and promised to come back one day, when the weather is better! It was a suitably ghostly encounter on Saven week.
That, hands down, was the best day of the holiday and I love Glencoe even more for it! I feel like we have a special connection now, because I have felt its magnificence and its dangerous power for myself, which is so much better than reading about it in books or museums. And now the spirits of the MacDonalds know I exist too, which is just magical.
When we got back to Oban, the storm raged in off the sea, with waves coming up over the promenade and hail battering the hotel windows. What I'd experienced on the mountain was just the start of it. I'm not going to lie, I did feel rather subdued for the rest of the evening, especially when I saw the weather forecast and it said that the winds in Glencoe had reached 80 miles per hour that afternoon, which is when I was up there. I felt like I'd had a lucky escape and it did leave me a little downcast and dejected. But I also can't wait to go back there again! I'll just make sure I go on a nice day.
After Glencoe, the remainder of my holiday was rather tame. It was still lovely and a welcome respite after all the excitement I'd had on the mountain! I visited Inverary and Fort William, where I bought a book about the Massacre of Glencoe and the witch Corrag. Finding this book felt like a sign that the MacDonalds were still with me. I began to read it in the Oban Chocolate shop, with a delicious pumpkin-spice white chocolate mocha. It's a wonderful novel, especially reading it after my own adventure. There will be a Book Nook coming on it soon, so watch out for that.
I also went back to Loch Lomond again. It was fabulous to be back there, catching up with old friends, watching the pretty swans on the water with Ben Lomond towering over them. Even though I enjoy travelling alone, I never feel alone at Loch Lomond. I have friends there who keep me good company.
So all in all, it was a marvelous, if somewhat hair-raising, week in the Highlands and I have come home very inspired to start writing again. I'm already thinking about where in Scotland I want to go next. I'm leaning towards going somewhere I've never been before, as there is still a lot of Scotland that I have yet to experience.
Or maybe I'll go back to Stirling and Bannockburn and spend a bit of time with my friend Bob. I'm not sure yet, but I do know that I can't wait to return to my soul-home. And to Glencoe!
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| Enemy territory! Sunset over Dunollie Castle |
Slainte Mhath
Marie x
Glad to hear you made it safely down! Witch Light is a great book, I was captivated from the first few sentences.
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