3 Weeks in Scotland – Northern Highlands
When young Anne McGilvery refused a marriage being forced on her, she was kicked out of the family home on the fair Isle of Mull and sailed for Canada to work as a nanny. After a decade, the itch returned and she was once again high-tailing it - this time aboard a west-bound train, where she met up with a much-younger John McGregor and was properly hitched as soon as they reached British Columbia.
After the twins (including my grandmother) and their younger sister quickly joined the ranks, this passionate and determined woman realized the only effective early-1900's contraception was travel. So she bundled up her young-uns and sailed back across the Atlantic. Not welcome in the family home, she would take the children to a park bench every day, where every day her stubborn father would silently watch his grandchildren without acknowledging his banished daughter.
This is the story of the roots of my family, which we’re here for 3 weeks to discover together with my mother and brother. Our heritage stems from Great Grandma Anne - this passionate, independent, willful, role-busting, scandalous, adventurous world-traveller. I guess some genes do get passed down…
Isle of Mull - Our Castle in the Sky
OK, Glengorm Castle isn’t really ours (though it could be - the castle, cafe, and herd of highland cattle grazing its 3700 acres is for sale for just 9 million pounds), but we do rent the entire servants’ quarters on the ground floor for a week. A week of strolling the castle’s sheep- and cow-strewn property down to the sea, or the numerous hikes around the island. Cleaning Ann and cousin Mary’s gravestones, and finding the old family "Staffa Cottage" (cute, but clearly not a castle). Enjoying pubs and restaurants and a farmers market in their colourful town of Tobermorey. Sharing stories at a community open mic event.
We watch Scotland play in the World Cup at the community hall with hundreds of excited fans packed like sardines, standing tall and straining to see the screen. As people squeeze by with their drinks, instead of apologizing or aggressively pushing, they make eye contact and squeeze my shoulder and smile in a “isn’t this great that we’re all here together” way. Girls somehow shimmy up onto their boyfriends’ shoulders. The crowd breaks out in dance and chants and half-time bagpipes on the sidewalk.
It’s a wee bit too much for me old mum, so we cart her off to a slightly calmer but already packed pub with an older crowd. She’s too shy to join a table that appears to have one extra seat, so we mull on the street trying to convince her. The bouncer is exasperated by her reticence - “For God’s sake, this is Mull!” - so he takes her in to deposit her there himself. When I check on her later she doesn’t even see me, too busy laughing and drinking with the charming British scuba diver beside her and trying to buy a round for the whole table.
Inverness and the Highland Games
Back across the ferry, we attend one of the many Highland Games happening round the country. After the Jacobite rebellions in the 1800’s, traditional highland culture was banned. These games were the one opportunity for highlanders to wear kilts and practice their traditions and war skills in the guise of “games” like hammer throw.
We also pay respects to dear family friends buried in Rosemarkie (with lunch at their favourite pub), watch some dolphins after a cold plunge in the North Sea, and watch the French Open final while eating black toffee pudding in an Inverness pub (clearly I’m not a sports-oriented tourist - I’m watching the French Open from the UK, and later the UK's Wimbledon in France.) Southbound, we tour the Culloden battlefields, hike to Robbie Burns' Falls of Foyer, and have a swim in Loch Ness with “Nessi.”
Highland Hikes at Glencoe
We spend a glorious, if wet, week down near Fort Williams in the Central Highlands. Every day a new hike - mountains, moors, meadows, falls. Every evening a World Cup football match (Go Scotland! Go Canada!) Every morning a workout at a densely-machined gym at the head of the inlet, worth going to just for the gorgeous drive.
And so we reach the glorious, breathtaking end of the Northern Highlands part of our visit. Next blog post... the Lowlands.
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What a wonderful trip. Jerry and I need to do this trip. We will have to get your itinerary and places to stay. Looks beautiful!!!!
Wow! Those photos tell the story of a great stay. It was worthwhile to spend time where your ancestors once lived. I hope your boys will get there some day. Bernie’s clan lands are at the northern tip where brambly bushes among rocks and boulders made the Scots there so poor they had to leave for Northern Ireland. We were there! We floated past Mull on our way to Iona for a fantastic couple of hours at the Abby.