Accidental Adventure: Day 6

Day 6: Ireland, Iceland, and Insane luck

We were supposed to be landing back in the good old US of A. I was supposed to be driving to work for a two day meeting with my whole office. We were, instead, landing in Dublin and using more of those Hilton points to stay for free at a property with a free airport shuttle. Yes!

My brother hadn't been to Europe before our trip, so the prospect of getting to visit our motherland, if only 15 hours to drink some Guinness and sleep, was thrilling. Knowing we'd get to see yet ANOTHER country, this one new to both of us, and explore during the daylight was the cherry on top. Before we went to bed in our freebie hotel, I did some digging and learned that the famous Blue Lagoon of Iceland is less than an hour from the airport in Reykjavik. We also learned that visiting the Blue Lagoon is VERY EXPENSIVE. We're talking $100 for a few hours of swimming in some hot water. Did we plan to do it anyway? Obviously. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We made it to the Dublin airport and onto our flight without issue. Thank goodness. When we landed in Iceland things were pretty murky - all that rain we had avoided so beautifully in Scotland seemed to have caught up with us. We got our itty bitty rental car without issue and hit the road.

We found the rain!

Oddny's Pool

Finally putting those rain coats we'd been carrying around to good use!

So we check out this cool plaque at the side of the road, see some very cool rocky coastline, and generally get soaked. Iceland is very cool, but very wet. We decide perhaps we should migrate more quickly to the warmth of the Blue Lagoon though.

Blue Lagoon sign

As we pull into the parking lot, the rain clears up. We make our way inside and we're feeling pretty excited. It's very chilly, but the water is gonna be a balmy 98-104 degrees Fahrenheit. They rent bathing suits, so the fact that we're utterly unprepared to hang out in a giant, accidentally occurring hot tub is NBD. There's a free drink included with our entrance fee. We're so good to go.

The thing about the Blue Lagoon is that it's accidentally man made. It's the offshoot water from a power plant down the road that picked up too many minerals and plugged up the lava flow that was supposed to re-absorb it. So instead of this hot water seeping back in, the silica in it made it into a lovely little pool with a nice, smooth bottom. Apparently a dermatologist made tons of money when he realized that a local guy was going and swimming there (it was supposed to be closed off as an environmental disaster site) and his eczema was clearing up. He bought the land and charges tourists like me and Anj $100 a shot to swim around in the hot water. Brilliant capitalism.

There are employees now whose job it is to swim around with bowls of silica mud that they encourage the tourists to smear all over their faces. Apparently this is good for the skin. Anj and I make friends with one of these employees and we're having so much fun chatting with him that he gives us free drink coupons! And tells us all about life in Iceland. And gets into the politics of hydroelectric power and hunting and education. It was fascinating, and really made me think that more of the world's problems could probably be sorted out amicably if we'd all just hop into warm geothermal pools and slather silica on ourselves and talk things through over beers.

So as we're chatting with this fellow, something magical happens. The sun comes out. We go from a rainy, chilly, windy day to this:

It was unreal. We couldn't stop giggling. How did we EVER get to be so lucky? Missed flight turns into A+ adventure. Our past selves must've had AMAZING karma.

After several hours of soaking we finally decided that we had to get back to the airport because we were NOT missing another flight.

Water outside the Blue Lagoon on the lava flows

By the side of the road near the airport

Because we were so far north, it didn't matter that our flight didn't leave til nearly midnight (more delays, donchaknow). We made some new friends in the duty free shop, marveled at our extraordinary trip, and promised that we'd be back. We mean to keep that promise.

Travel SNAFUs are normal: Day 5

Day 5: SNAFU

Our lovely hotel placed us not far from Glasgow where our scheduled flight would scoot us back to Birmingham and then home. We left early enough to get in a final drive, and what a drive it was! On our way in, we drove through Loch Lomond & the Trossachs National Park but really only got to try out the Loch Lomond portion. For our final drive of the trip, we routed ourselves through the Trossachs. If I may, that was some of our favorite driving the whole trip.

The day was overcast which served as a perfect counterpoint to the ridiculously dry, bright, clear weather we'd had all along. It reinforced how absolutely lucky we were the whole trip, but it also let us focus on the ridiculous curvy roads we were on! We had such a blast, I can't even convey it with words. Total rush.

But then we had to go home. So we made our way to the airport, returned our trusty rental car, and settled in to wait for our flight.

Turns out we were gonna wait for a while.

Turns out our flight was delayed enough that we missed our International Connection. Which, incidentally, was booked as a separate reservation and so there was no recourse for us being idiots and not budgeting adequate time to get there. For those of you who know my brother, this was not ideal. He is a worrier. An angry worrier. So I took the reins and started making plans. Gave Mom a call and got her researching flights. By the time our flight was boarding, we had a new plan: travel to Birmingham. Flight to Dublin. Flight to Reykjavic. Flight home. Not only would we get home a mere 24 hours late, we'd also have an 8 hour layover in Iceland! Possibilities abound! We went from being a very unhappy, fretful crew of two to a pair of super hyped travelers who solutioned the shit out of this problem! We were sad to leave Scotland, but what better way to do so than with a whole new adventure awaiting us!?

Goodbye Scotland, hello accidental adventure!

The Cairngorms restored our faith: Day 4

Day 4: Loch Ness & The Cairngorms

We planned to leave early, we really did, but that whisky tasting really didn't lend itself to an early departure. So we slept late and took our sweet time. It was our last full day anyway, and the roads had been pretty uninspiring by the end of the previous day, so why rush?

I plotted a weird route that would allow us to skip over Inverness (we had been enjoying the rural too much to want to be in a town) by following the whole curve of Loch Ness (because I was committed to maximizing my chances of seeing Nessie). We stopped and had some lunch in town, but mostly we kind of moped. Between our hangovers and the less-fun driving roads, our Scotland high was dying out. The roads were beautiful, but not the dramatic vistas we'd been spoiled on the last three days. We talk about the Sunday blues in my family - the general sadness that the weekend is over and real life has to start again with work on Monday. We were feeling the vacation version.

So beautiful, but the road was dull.

Then, when we thought all was lost, we saw it: another Connected Road. Obviously we took it. We're driving, excitement is growing, we're taking sharp turns and heading onto a road... that's not really paved. But we continue! Because Connected Road! And we're having fun!

I was, at least

And then we see the sign. The one that says we're on private property and have to turn back on this miles-long road we've been driving along or they're going to shoot us. Or something.

"You kids get off my lawn!"

Really it makes sense. This road was way too cool and windy to be just anyone's road. It was, in fact, the road to someone's hunting lodge. So we took stock, decided the road had been cool to drive down, and then turned ourselves around and started winding our way back out.

The day turned out to be lovely. We took fewer and fewer photos, but Cairngorms National Park taught us that we shouldn't give up too soon. There were still fun, curvy roads to be driven. There were still funny names of towns. Scotland hadn't given up all of her secrets.

Prototypical View

Tell me that's not straight out of a fairy tale

Our last night was on the house thanks to some Hilton points, and the hotel was gorgeous. It was halfway between Edinburgh and Glasgow, and I assume started off as someone's country estate. I wandered around the grounds a little bit after we arrived and found a little secret garden path.

Wouldn't have even been surprised to see fairies.

Look who I found!

Intellectually, I know there are hedgehogs in Britain. But finding a pair of them snuffling around in the leaves took me by COMPLETE surprise. I had hedgies as pets when I was a kid, so I immediately started missing those little critters and generally felt warm fuzzies at having found their brethren out in the wild. Anj and I took the easy route that night. We weren't racing across the country to arrive on time, food was available whenever we wanted it. It was less frantic, but also didn't feel like the Scotland we'd been loving our whole trip. But those little hedgehogs, man, they sure made me happy.

The Surprise of Smoo: Day 3

Day 3: The West Coast (is the Best Coast in Scotland for driving)

So we wake up wicked early on Day 3 because we're on a mission to drink some fancy-ass gin that I read about which is produced in the FAR north of Scotland at a little spot called Dunnet Bay Distillery. Rock Rose Gin. We get rolling just after sunrise and we're making good time when BAM! there's a waterfall. Right there! At the side of the road!

And then we're driving and THIS is in front of us:

Similar distractions ensue... we drive, we stop, we're running late. And I'm getting a little hangry. So we decide to stop for a bite in Ullapool (UH-luh-pewl). We get some super tasty munchies, wander around the harbor, commit to kicking the drive into high gear. This is supposed to be some tasty gin, y'all. We're committed. Until the Smoo Caves happen.

So here's the thing about driving with my brother. He has the world's smallest bladder. Some of it is heritage (seriously, my family), some of it is diabetes, some of it is his Princeliness. But we're clipping along and he sees a sign for a free public bathroom and we've gotta stop. The NC500 route doesn't have too many of these along the way, either, so I can't fully blame him. We stop, it's blustery and chilly, but there's a cool little path next to the bathrooms and people are traipsing up and down. OK, it's good to stretch the legs - we bite.

Down this little winding staircase is a natural cave system that's open for public tours! There's a fee and we're cheap, so we just look at the outside and read the explanation plaques and plan to head back to the car, but there's also this tidy little pathway that I spot next to the plaques. And it's just so inviting. And Anj seems to have wandered off so what the hell... when in Rome.

Smoo Caves

Tidy Path

 So I'm wandering, hoping my brother doesn't fuss at me when he discovers that I've wandered off (it's not like he's the one who cares about the gin), and I'm gaining altitude and I peek over the edge and who do I see but this little stinker, wandering around barefoot in the North Sea.

That tiny dot in the water? My dingus brother.

So while he's looking at this view...

And I'm the blob at the top!

I'm looking at these...

This is the OBVIOUS time to start singing "you take the high road and I'll take the low road" and even though we'd already been to Loch Lomond and neither of us was planning on dying for a political cause, we were in Scotland, so.

I took so long that he came looking for me. #worthit

Smoo Caves from the pasture

The best part about my meanderings on high was that it's just a farmer's pasture, and the farmer allows people onto their land and just asks you to keep your dog on a leash and... that's it. For a pair of Americans, we kept wondering if there was a catch. I mean, totally blown away by the lack of litigious intent here. It was amazing. We kept talking about what it must be like to grow up as a free ranging kid here, running around sheep pastures with BIG CLIFFS and no one worrying about it except to say "hey, just shut the gate behind you so my sheep don't escape." It was around this time that I decided I wanted to stay in Scotland forever.

The Smoo diversion really kinda squashed our chances of making it to Dunnet Bay Distillery before their tasting shop closed, but the area is also the northernmost point of the UK, so the show had to go on. We made our way to the bar next door to the distillery instead. I was hangry again, TBH, and wanted some tasty, tasty gin, so it was a perfect solution. The only thing was, as we were getting closer to Dunnet Bay, the roads were getting more and more... lame. Tame. Boring. We had finished our west coast driving and started to panic that the roads just weren't going to be the same on the east coast. We only had one more day and we were moping - was the last leg going to be totally anti-climactic?

Our last overnight was in Helmsdale, so we started the trek south. We were worried our best days were behind us, so we did the only logical thing: we went to the pub.

Things I learned: ordering a Guinness in a Scotland doesn't earn you friends. Ordering a Tennent's Lager does. So quickly. I won't tell you how many hours we spent in that pub, my friends, but I will tell you that the evening's program included a guided whisky tasting courtesy of my newest collection of old man friends, closing the bar and learning that doesn't mean everyone goes home - it just means they close the curtains and lock the doors so the cops "don't know" - and hearing dramatic stories about the Highlander Games that are hosted in Helmsdale every year. The scenery may have become less dramatic, but the folks we met more than made up for it.

Between the Smoo Caves and the fine folks at The Tartan Lounge in Helmsdale, the day was maybe our best yet.

Overwhelmed by Scotland's beauty: Day 2

Day 2: Isle of Skye and (some of) the West Coast

The Lochailort Inn puts on a mean breakfast spread. I'm talking eggs and toast and fresh butter and fruit and smoked salmon and all kinds of delicious things. And to think, we might have missed it if we'd been on that first ferry of the morning!

We got a pretty early start and headed towards Skye. Anj's only request for the trip, besides a side excursion to a race track that is not, in fact, in Scotland (and we obviously didn't do), was a stop in a post office in Portree to visit with Jax, the stamp licking dog. He's a bit of a social media sensation, I gather, because he'll lick your stamps for you to affix to your post cards. Gotta love a working dog. So off we went.

Spoiler alert: Skye is GORGEOUS.

Views like this were around every bend in the road

Goats do whatever they want

Can you imagine living there?!

So we arrive in Portree and it's bustling. Lots of tourists, lots of cool artsy shops, not lots of parking. We scoot around 'til we find some and somehow I lose Anj. "Somehow" meaning I got distracted by a pretty church and walked in and by the time I remember I have a brother, he's gone. So I continue being distracted, only this time by a church bazaar that's going on and selling all kinds of adorable, kitschy things. Including greeting cards which can be mailed home with the assistance of Jax! So I get some goodies (including some rose water butter cookies that mean I can now, for sure, die happy) and go looking for himself.

Harbor in Portree, Isle of Skye

Portree, Isle of Skye

Located Anj, wrote up my cards, and went post office hunting. And look who we found!

Jax, the Post Dog of Portree

Now I understand why he's a social media sensation. He's retired from licking stamps, but he hangs out at the post office every day with his Dad and is very happy to give kisses!

We considered sticking around Portree for lunch, but we had gotten a recommendation for a place from some super sweet folks we met on our flight to Glasgow. They were down in Birmingham for an awards ceremony - the group runs the "tastings tables" at a grocery store up in Glasgow that is, apparently, the best in the country - and they were pleased as punch to laugh at our terrible pronunciations of tiny Scottish towns, ridiculous planned travel mileage, and general sibling shenanigans for the flight. Rosie, the group's matriarch, was my seat companion for the flight and she recommended a place for lunch called Columba 1400. They do really cool outreach for at-risk and "troubled" youth, and she had told me it was just north of Portree. So that was our planned destination. 

Welcome

Moo Moos

Old Man of Storr

Kilt Rock Viewpoint

Kilt Rock (the background basalt columns)

It was a touch blustery

We arrived after much dithering around looking at Kilt Rock and the Mealt Falls (it's in the foreground of the Kilt Rock photo above, but the water was slow that day so the falls kind of blend into the rock face in that image) which was totally worth it. Blustery, splendid dithering.

We ate on the patio outside

Our view for lunch

Needless to say, it was a stupendous spot to eat. I don't even remember the food, frankly, but the view. Man, the view.

We hit the road again and decided that much of our plan for Skye would need to be scuttled. We had to make it to Gairloch by 8 and realized that "3 hours" of drive time would almost certainly NOT be 3 hours with all our pit stops on the way. We decided to cut out the whole western swing of road (we had planned to go out towards the Neist Point Lighthouse on the far west coast) and just loop back down and around to Portree. This might well have been our best decision of the whole trip.

To get back to Portree proper we could either take the same road we took in (uh, why would we do that?) or we could continue northward towards Staffin and go around the furthest northern tip OR we could check out a kind of sketchy road that looked like it went up towards some of those stellar peaks in the photos above and just see what the hell would happen. This was our first experience with the magic of a Connected Road. 

Tip to future Scottish Highland travelers: when offered a Connected Road, take it. Not once were we disappointed by the extraordinary views that these tiny little roads afforded. I don't think they have actual names, but the car GPS called them Connected Roads, and so did we.

A Connected Road from later in the trip (when we really appreciated them)

Connected Road sheep are majestic

Hell of a napping spot, little guy

Views like this happen on Connected Roads

Un. Real.

Uig, the town at the end of our first Connected Road

All good things must come to an end, and so we trundled on with Connected Road living on in our memory. Little did we know that more would come our way with patience to guide us.

I mentioned that Anj's one goal for the trip was to meet Jax, the Portree Post Dog. Mine was to take a photo of some Highland cattle. You know, the ones with the massive horns and shaggy fur and delightful disinterest in humans. So my brother, gem that he is, was committed to helping me photograph all the sheep and cows we passed because we were realizing that the ginormous Highland cattle aren't as widespread (at least where we were traveling), but sheep are everywhere. Every. Where. And cows make appearances along the way. So photographing all the other livestock seemed like a good alternative until the shaggy beasts made an actual appearance.

I sang the Barney theme song to them to make them look at me

Churches everywhere

I would definitely be a sheep in Scotland

A sample view from Skye

We were getting overwhelmed by the views. Seriously overwhelmed. But we had to keep rolling. We were off Skye, had joined up with the NC500 route, but we had to make it to Gairloch if we wanted to have a chance of eating dinner. We were making good time. We were passing through some of the most spectacular vistas we'd ever seen and could hardly take it all in. We were on a steady diet of "Oh my God. This is incredible." We gave in and stopped.

We parked by this bridge and went strolling through the peat. We looked like The Sound of Music, spinning in circles, trying to absorb it all. We trekked up a small hill and views like this awaited us:

Heart stoppingly beautiful. But we had to keep going. So we did. At least til we got up to the top of the hill and saw this:

How do you go on from that? We could either sit there and weep for the beauty of the world (seemed reasonable) or continue. So we tried. But then we crested the hill and saw this:

Two months later and I still feel breathless looking at these photos. We had to keep moving or risk missing dinner and not being able to check into our AirBnB so we went. Kicking and screaming, but comforted by the knowledge that such beauty exists in the world. And that hopefully we'd see more of it. 

As we continued on, we reached a sharp turn in the road. There were many of those, but not every one had HIGHLAND CATTLE AT THE END! Anj, bless him, slammed on the breaks and out I hopped to meet these beauties.

Highland Cattle photos? Check.

We made it to Gairloch by 8:45 which is sort of like 8. Our host was gracious and helped us to find the only store in town that was still open for dinner - a killer fish and chips shop. We ate, admired the view, and I went the hell to bed. Anj went out and got free drinks from, it sounds like, half the pub. So we both got what we wanted!

Gairloch from our seaside AirBnB