May 3, 2005 - Scotland 2003: Strathpeffer or Bust

May 3, 2005 - Scotland 2003: Strathpeffer or Bust

During our visit to Cumbernauld in Scotland in the summer of 2003 I had gone with my wife IM and brother in law WS to be fitted for a kilt at a men's clothing store in Sterling. I would wear the kilt at the wedding of WS's son on Saturday August 16th. We returned to Baldoran Court and loaded up the two cars with our bags and tested that the cell phones were charged before beginning our trip to a little town north of Inverness. The plan was for WS to lead the two-car convoy. We would stop in Perth for lunch at a famous glass manufacturer on the outskirts of the city.

We found parking for both cars at Caithness Glass and had a buffet lunch followed by a tour of the outlet shop that occupied the back portion of the restaurant. Prices for the colorful glass artwork ran the gamut from a few pounds for flawed pieces all the way to several hundred pounds or more for the more intricate hand made works. Though lovely, they were hardly the types of purchases for a visiting couple from America to carry all around Scotland and all the way back to California. If we were avid collectors IM and I might have opted to do so but we've always traveled light and tended to collect the minimum of souvenirs.

We leave Perth and get back onto the M80 only briefly before the motorway turns into a dual carriageway, A road, the A9. The road is relatively fast from Perth to just north of Duncarty, where the A9 crosses the B8063. Even with the two-lane stretch of the A9, WS and I manage to make good time with traffic congesting around slow moving lorries or the occasional careful driver. A few miles up the road from Duncarty, the A9 widens into a dual carriageway for a mile-long stretch in which WS and I along with a line of other cars manage to get out from behind some of the slower cars and lorries. Along the stretch of the A9 from the end of the dual carriageway, we race the River Tay. It chases us until just north of the town of Dunkeld, known for Dunkeld Cathedral, begun in 730 AD when Celtic missionaries called Culdees built the first structure. The River Tay cuts beneath the A9 just under a mile north of Dunkeld where the B898 T’s into the A9. It resumes its pursuit on the left until it tires of the chase and abruptly turns left just south of Ballinluig and makes a headlong rush to Loch Tay some 12 to 15 miles due west.

We carry on through Pitlochry and further on through Killiecrankie, where the River Garry takes up chasing the A9. North of Killiecrankie we pass Blair Castle located in the Strath of Garry. Whoever held this bit of land was the gatekeeper to the Grampian Mountains and the route into Inverness and the Scottish Highlands. The castle is the family home of the Dukes of Atholl, the present Duke living in South Africa. In 1269, a neighbor, John Comyn, built a castle on the property owned by the Earl of Atholl, who had been away in England for an extended period. The Earl petitioned to and received from King Alexander III of Scotland, his land back along with the castle. Called Comyn's Tower, the structure was incorporated into and is part of Blair Castle to this day.

In the tumultuous history of Scotland and England the Castle has been fought over on numerous occasions. During the Jacobite rebellion it endured the last castle siege in the British Isles. The other distinction the Castle boasts is the home of the Atholl Highlanders, the only private Army in Great Britain, now largely a ceremonial body to amuse celebrity visitors to the castle. Its many famous guest included Queen Victoria who was impressed by the Duke’s private army. Surrounding the castle are the magnificent snow-capped Perthshire Mountains and the many Highland rivers and burns—the habitat of red deer, eagles, and red grouse.

Just a bit north of Blair Castle is the Clan Donnachaidh Center for Genealogy and Scottish History built in 1967 to tell Scottish history from the Clans’ perspective. Located at Bruar, it sits next to the House of Bruar shopping centre, which is where we decided to stop and stretch our legs. The shopping centre was a mix of gift shop selling items of interest to tourist and upscale clothing shops selling kilts and highland attire. All carried overpriced merchandise and I wondered how they could remain in business, though I suspect the constant stream of tourist—the place was overrun when we arrived—provided enough trade to sustain them profitably.

Resuming the journey, we make good time getting on to Inverness. Scottish drivers are just as anxious to get where they are going as American drivers. They're just on the other side of the highway and seated on the opposite side of the car. The first thing you see as you near the city is the wide expanse of Moray Firth to the northeast and the smaller Beauly Firth to the west. A steel bridge straddles the narrow waterway that connects the two. It lies on a northwest plane. Inverness lies on the southeast side of the bridge and our destination is across the bridge and another 15 miles north and east. We have made good time reaching Inverness. It's only a little before 3:00 PM

The drive to Strathpeffer was slow largely because we left the faster dual carriageway A9 at the town of Tore for the two-lane A835. We drove less than 10 miles on the A835 before we joined the AA862 at Maryburgh, traveling less than five miles due north to the town of Dingwall where we made a left onto the A834 for the last six miles or so to Strathpeffer. Not only had the road narrowed with each transition but along the way we managed to get behind a slow moving farm tractor that piled up a line of cars behind it. Only after what seemed like hours but in reality was no more than 10 or 15 minutes the tractor turned off the road and the traffic resumed a normal pace. The towns of Maryburgh, Dingwall, and Tore were small farming communities with a few shops and a collection of houses for the townsfolk. Besides farming the next most obvious large industry is tourism to judge by the number of tour buses sharing the highway with us.

Entering Strathpeffer we were confronted by large stands of trees lining the A834. Beyond the trees on either side of the two-lane road hills covered with trees reached upwards to a beautiful blue sky dotted with small puffs of white clouds. Our hotel, the Ben Wyvis, was on the left as we entered town, a large sprawling Victorian manor house with a long left-curving driveway leading up a slight hill from the highway.

The hotel resembled a block of seven to eight town houses stretching along the asphalt driveway only none of the individual sections had their own access. Only the second townhouse in the block had a wide glass fronted entrance that led to a small, simple registration desk, which was slightly lower than the normal hotel registration desk where the guest and desk clerk see no more than each others’ upper torso. Here both could view each other’s entire torso. Being early we got a choice of parking places as well as a leisurely registration process.

After checking in each couple retired to their adjacent rooms to relax for an hour before venturing out into the town. WS had lingered outside to catch a smoke before joining YS in the room. Irene and I lounged in the relatively spacious room with its single window on the wall directly opposite the door. We had requested twin beds so each would have enough room. Both beds were to the right of the door. The bathroom was on the wall at the immediate left of the entrance. It came with a tub—no shower. Both tub and sink came with the individual hot and cold faucets, but the bath was relatively large, stretching from the sink the length of the bathroom. We had tea and ate the shortbread the hotel had provided. We tried the television to see that it worked and what channels it offered.

Just under an hour we heard WS and YS leaving their room and decided to join them in the hallway. We were off to explore the small quaint Victorian village. It was still mid afternoon just before 4:00 PM so we decided to drive down to Loch Ness before dinner.