Sammy the Highlander

    Alright, alright. I know. I'm not a highlander but let's be transparent. You know, or have probably discovered through this blog, that I happen to be the proud owner of an enormous ego. I mean someone who writes about herself this much isn't exactly what I would categorize as humble. And to be honest, as soon as I found out that humility had nothing to do with humor, I was done with it. We both know it was only a matter of time before I quickly began associating myself with Scotland's cultural symbol of awesome, the highlander. If I were in Spain it would be Sammy the Conquistador and Japan? Sammy the Samurai (actually that's been a family nickname for ages so that one would be fair).
     You're right. The shoe doesn't fit but that doesn't mean I'm not going to wedge it on my foot and hobble around after giving myself the moniker. Not to mention, my Sean Connery impression is fairly decent so let's just let me win this one alright? Good, Sammy the Highlander it is. Now that we're past that, we can discuss the context surrounding this ballsy moniker... that I've been pining to give myself since blog one. Of course, when you hear the touristy context, I know you're going to start fighting me on the name thing again but let's remember, I don't force you to submit yourself to this conceited, self-constructed effigy I call a blog.
    To tell the truth, I gave in and caved- but hey, it didn't end well for the Jacobites either. I told myself I wasn't going to go on one of those sardine cans that they call tour buses to Loch Ness. Well, with the weeks flying by, my brain began ticking. Reflect with me: During discussions of my time in Scotland, how many times do you think some plucky individual would ask, "So, did you see Loch Ness?" A seemingly innocent question but God, if I hadn't. Oh, they would smile and ask me about my other adventures but inside, pure judgement. As we discovered, I have an ego to coddle so this just wouldn't do. So yes, I caved but I damn happy I did. It was beautiful.
    Our trip started with an 8 am departure from High Street which is about a 30 minute walk from my dorm. Katie, my friend who accompanied me on the Dales adventure, and I had played it safe the night before so although not bright-eyed and bushy tailed, we were well rested. In fact, we arrived at the bus early, which was not a sardine can. However, I would have preferred cramped conditions to the horrible jokes from our bus driver. I tried to laugh. I really did. On the highway, fine. Go ahead and make another terrible joke but dear God man, when viewing Glen Coe, the last thing I want to hear is another pushy attempt of humor fall on annoyed ears. But enough of pettiness.

On our way to the Highlands

Although this is not my picture (because my camera occasionally goes on the fritz when asked to do what it was designed for), this is an image of Doune Castle. Look familiar? That's because it was the castle in which an irreverent Frenchmen insulted Monty Python's knights of the round table- a favorite scene of my father's which is quoted with frequency. Most of the filming of Monty Python and the Holy Grail was filmed around this castle or Glen Coe. Doune Castle is also in my new favorite tv series, Game of Thrones, where it is the set of the Kingdom of Winterfell. 

    Where the Yorkshire Dales are warm and inviting, the Highlands are glorious but all the same, nothing about the landscape begs you to linger. Instead, every imposing mountain or falling glen takes your breath. You can't help but be conscious of the reality that these formations were here long before you and will be here long after. I'm currently taking a course entitled, "Visualizing Scotland". My professor kept introducing the notion of the sublime in the landscape genre, a concept first developed by the philosopher and statesmen, Edmund Burke. Where beauty calms and pleases us, the sublime produces more exaggerated emotions of awe, reverence and even fear. For all the reasons we love an adventure, we love the sublime- it promises no safety but also no boundaries. Now, previous to my visit to the Highlands, I thought this theoretical squabble was a fabrication of powdered men with nothing better to do than drunkenly discuss emotive art. Yet, even the great Samantha, can admit when she was wrong, albeit in a covert manner. Although no one utterance can encompass the vantages of the Highlands, the concept of the sublime at least brings one to the threshold of the matter.

Now, I've set up the photos in chronological progression, transitioning from the Lowlands and heading towards the barren north. And, of course, at the end are some more touristy photos. As we began to ride through, the scenery was fantastic but not quite producing the sense of mortality for which the Highlands are famed. 

We'll break our exercise in the sublime for a fun fact. Did you know that The Last of the Mohicans  was actually filmed in the Scottish Highlands as well as Monty Python? Yeah, all those time that you were in awe of the American majesty... Not the American majesty. 

And now we see it start to shift.

Now, I'm not much of a mountain girl as I've always preferred the ocean, but the Highland mountains did have a certain alluring, siren song about them. In fact, they hummed this tune until our driver informed me that this particular mountain, Buachaille Etive Mòr or the Great Herdsman of Etive, annually takes the most climber lives per year of all the mountains in Scotland. I use the word "takes" because so many of these deaths are unpredictable avalanches or rock falls instead of over-ambition. I'll stick to my beach in Palma, thanks. 

Forgive my smiling in this photo. One as socially awkward as myself really doesn't know how to take a photo at the site of a massacre. This is where the Glencoe Massacre of 1692 took place in which the MacDonald Clan, failing to pledge allegiance to William and Mary after the Glorious Revolution, were brutally defeated. However, the death toll encompassed more than warriors. Many women and children of the clan were also sentenced to death after the defeat.  

In the hazy background is the image of Ben Nevis. Ben means mountain in Scottish Gaelic which is pronounced "gahlik", much in the same way a Long Islander says garlic. Ben Nevis stands 4,409 feet. Now, this number would normally impress me if I didn't have two very proud Coloradans as friends. In fact, I was about to brag about this mountain to them until I double checked my facts and found the highest peaks in Colorado to be over 14,000 above sea level. I even looked at the prominence, which is the relative height instead of sea level and it still didn't make a difference. You win this time Melanie and Pru!

    Onto Loch Ness! Now, let's keep the discussions of Nessie brief. Not because I don't enjoy a good mythos but because things that dwell in the water, especially monster-like creatures, tend to terrify me. Honestly, when someone says Nessie, those horrid shrieking eels from Princess Bride that haunted my bathtub experiences for years come to mind. Here's a refresher just in case you wanted another phobia: 

 

   Nessie/horrible sea monster aside, Loch Ness and Urquhart Castle which rests on its shore are beautiful. By the time we got there, it was getting a bit nippy but thankfully the skies stayed clear for the most part. 

Urquhart Castle, a Jacobite fortress that was abandoned as a lost cause

I was, as Mainers always do, pretending it was far warmer than it was.

Obligatory photo with Loch Ness in the background.  

All the rubble is an outline for the castle that used to stand. One can only imagine what it would look like in completion. 

This structure actually used to be shaped like a beehive and was used to farm pigeons for their meat and eggs. I personally never understood the stigma against pigeons.

The view of Urquhart Castle from our boat. Yes, we got to go on a boat and I was ecstatic. Anytime I get to go on boat ride, I become a dog with its head out the car window. However, momentarily, I did get flashbacks to that eel, ship scene in Princess Bride and last I checked, I don't think the Highlands has Westleys readily available to save damsels in distress. 

Loch Ness contains more water than all the lakes of England and Wales... combined. It's 755 feet deep meaning that you could submerge Big Ben in Loch Ness and it wouldn't even reach halfway to the surface. 

     So what's to come? Well I have some smaller, fun plans for April when I'm not laboriously clacking out another essay but for the last week in April, I'll be going to Palma with Jessie, Courtney and Emma- three wonderful women (I use the word "women" because we have constant feminist debates) I've met here who are also studying abroad. Unfortunately, Scotland's lack of sun and "the full Scottish breakfast" (which at first seemed a blessing and now, a curse) do not bode well for bikini wear but to hell with it! Who could view pictures like the following and even give a thought to such frivolities? Not this highlander. That's for sure!