Scotland gave me a right punch to the head.
And I don’t mean metaphorically. I expected to be awed by its rugged coasts and Iron Age forts. I just didn’t anticipate the real, knock-you-down physicalness of it.
On the first day of my Scotland’s Wild Highlands and Islands tour, I met my fellow Natural Habitat Adventures travelers in Glasgow. We traveled by van to Oban, where we were to board our boat—a converted Russian research vessel—that would take us on explorations all around the North Atlantic. Our Scottish guide met us on the dock and asked if we were excited and prepared for our voyage. “When you hit the sea, she sometimes hits you back!” he joked. But we knew the intention and meaning of his words, and once in our cabins, many of us scrambed in our suitcases for the Scopolamine seasickness patches we’d brought along—just in case.
I assumed our guide was speaking figuratively when he warned us about what rough seas were capable of doing. That is, until I woke up at about 3:00 a.m. The desk chair in my cabin had slid up against the top of my bed, lifted off its legs and then had promptly landed on my head. We were in the midst of an Atlantic storm.
The next swell had the opposite effect, and I was tipped down to the bottom of my bunk. On this other end, my toes got bruised as my body was compressed—like an accordion loosing air—from the top of my head down into my heels.
A banged head and black-and-blue toes. And I hadn’t even left my cabin.
Animal houses
Four days later, on St. Kilda, we had the chance to step inside an old black house.
Traditional black houses were built with double, dry-stone walls packed with earth. The roofs were thatched with turf, straw or reeds. Floors were made of flagstones or dirt, and central hearths kept the houses warm. With no chimney to escape through, the smoke from the fires made its way through the roofs. Such dwellings were used to accommodate livestock as well as people. Humans lived at one end, and animals lived at the other, all in close community.
In Scotland, people lived in black houses throughout the 17th, 18th, 19th and even the 20th centuries. As someone who has always felt a kinship with the other species of animals on Earth and who has lived with a passel of pets over the years, I find the idea of a black house appealing.
As I stepped inside the ruins of one of these black houses on St. Kilda, I found John, our tour historian, talking about how the people brought their cows inside for some added warmth. I stood with my back up against the far wall. Just a few paces would have taken me outside. While the black house was small, the view of the ocean was gigantic and tremendous. “Life was lived out there,” John said, pointing to the expanisve view. “Not in here.”
What caused this seismic change? Today, we want our houses to be as big and as comfortable as they can be; some, even, have ballooned to include movie theaters, lap pools, bowling alleys or four bathrooms. Today, it seems, we desire an inside life.
I thought about the people who once stood where I was standing, what they must have thought about when looking at the view “out there.” What truly makes a home? Is it a contained structure with roof and walls and where nature is, for the most part, kept out? Could it be a canoe, as it once was in New Zealand for the Maori; or the wide, open plains of an estancia, as it sometimes is in Patagonia? Could it be a canyon or a lake? Or is home a stack of rocks in Scotland, where animals inhabit the same domicile as people?
Standing stones
On Mainland, the largest of the Orkney Islands, we visited the Standing Stones of Stenness, which may be the United Kingdom’s most ancient stone circle. Constructed during the Stone Age at the northern tip of modern-day Scotland, the stones likely formed part of a larger complex linked by religious ritual.
We stopped to wander among and take photos of these vertical stones, structures that are centuries older than even the earliest phases of Stonehenge.
This is a hard-rock monument to humanity.
Stouthearted statuettes
Just before I left Scotland, I bought a small, plastic, pentagonal box containing pewter figures of five Scottish heroes: Macbeth; Mary, Queen of Scots; Rob Roy, Robert the Bruce and William Wallace. People of words and of swords. One in the same, I guess, since the pen, as the old saying goes, is a type of steely weapon and can be even mightier than rapiers and sabers.
I purchased this heroes-in-a-box set because I see northern Scotland as a place for the brave and courageous. Scotland is battling seas and standing stones. It’s people who lived in rock residences, not afraid to mix it up with the other animals who shared their environment. It’s champions cast in pewter.
I left wild, northern Scotland with a new determination to live strong like this land. Next time, Scotland, I said to myself at the dock, as I got into the taxi that would take me to the airport in Aberdeen, it’s just you and me. In the ring—of Brodgar or any other of your choosing.
Just you and me, mano a mano.
Here’s to finding your true places and natural habitats,
Candy
This are great pictures I really enjoy the ones of the animals. I also enjoy the ones of the ancient ruins. It really reminded me of the t.v. show Outlander from Starz Channel. So I really appreciated it, and I thank you for your work.
Brian,
Strangely enough, someone just told me about “Outlander,” and I started watching it, too. Thanks! —C.G.A.
The stone walls, if memory serve me, are quite common and very short. Beautiful pictures once again Candy-its like being there! I am especially fond of the bridge. I love all of your writings as well, and am anxiously looking forward to the next-truly inspirational! Thank you once again!
I hope to get there soon! Thanks for the peek into a wild and beautiful place.
Wonderful post, Candy! It offers a different perspective of Scotland, and the places that you’ve mentioned seemed so magical coming from you. It would be great if one can have the time and just go to these places and just take whatever Scotland would deem to give us lowly mortals. Thanks for sharing!
Thank you Candice, loved your story and photos. Have you read FERAL by George Montbiot? He describes how the tree-less landscapes of Scotland are an artifact of past and present management. He is a proponent of reintroducing forests to Scotland. And thanks again.
Candice, did you notice the lack of trees? It is because all the mature oak trees were cut down to build the ships that beat the Spanish armada during Elizabeth I’s reign.
I also love Edinburgh. What struck me was that wherever one stood in the town, one could look down a street and see the countryside.
Agreed Candice. My ancestry is Irish. But I get a lot more out of Scotland.
Hi Candice,
Nice article about scotland. I would still like to do a cycle tour in scotland, but only on the days, when the weather is not too rainy!!!
We are used to lots of sun in Sunny South Africa.
Kind regards,
Gudrun
Wonderful photographs; so well-written I got a little sea sick. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you, David! I know that feeling, well. —C.G.A.
Wish I was there!
I have a quote taped above my desk, written by Judith Thurman in “The Hand of Distance”. It reads: “Every dreamer knows that it is entirely possible to be homesick for a place you’ve never been to, perhaps more homesick than for familiar ground.”
Scotland’s just such a place for me. I can’t answer why – it just is. I hope to experience Scotland firsthand someday. Until that time, thank you for sharing your adventure with me!
Love the quote, Patricia! And, I do hope you make it to Scotland. I believe you will. —C.G.A.
Simply beautiful Candy!
An often chilly country, but when the weather is favorable, the greenery seems to come alive! And pardon me for saying this Candy, but I got a bit of a chuckle, visualizing you being tossed about in your cabin. Great story!
Thanks, Tom. Those kinds of “mishaps” often make for a great adventure, though. I’m glad you chuckled, because I can laugh at it now, too! —C.G.A.
Candy, you’ve opened my eyes to Scotland. Sounds wonderful except for the rough seas. Photos are wonderful.
Hi, White Pine!
NatHab’s new Scotland trip is mostly land-based; you might want to check it out: https://www.nathab.com/alaska-northern-adventures/scotland-adventure/
Thanks for the comment. That is every writer’s hope! —C.G.A.
Thank you, Joan! —C.G.A.
LOVED this post and photos, Candy. You have such a good eye – and, apparently, a tough physiology, tough enough to cope with being tossed around your ship’s cabin! (Not envious of that part.)
Life. . . lived on the inside without testing our metal on the outside eventually closes around us until we can’t move or breath. Take a deep breath and live strong!