the highlands

 My heart's in the highlands, my heart is not here,

My heart's in the highlands a-chasing the deer. 

-Robert Burns

We only planned a short stay in Edinburgh because the Highlands were calling.  We wanted as much time as possible to explore the misty mountains, sit beside the dark lochs looking for Nessie, and stalk red stag through the rolling green hills. We left the city as early as we could with our traveling circus. A quick stop at David Stirling's memorial and soon the scenery outside our windows began to transform. The hills crept higher and higher, the roads curving alongside rivers, around corners, before opening up into lush green glens. 

It's hard to describe how uniquely beautiful this part of the world is. The mountains look like the ones you drew as a kid. Perfectly round peaks that you can trace with your finger from the ground up to the sky, covered in grasses and dotted with white sheep. We drove through the Glencoe Valley with eyes wide and our mouths open in awe looking for a place to pull off and hike around. The bigger parking spots on the side of the road fill up quickly during the busier summer season, especially when you are blessed with a rare magical sunshine day. Even though we were in the area by 10, it was a bit of a instagram vs reality moment seeing tour buses unloading at some of the highlights we hoped to visit.  Ugh tourists (says the tourist). Why did it seem like everyone had the same ideas we did??  But we carried on and managed to squeeze into a spot on a narrow layby aka the shoulder and truly there's not a bad view no matter where you look. 

My wild viking children wasted no time running up the hills and down and up again, tripping and falling and laughing the whole time. We unpacked leftover sandwiches we had grabbed in Edinburgh, an apple and chips and had the prettiest picnic of my life. 

We carried on up the road a bit and stopped at the official Glencoe Valley Visitors Centre which features a recreation of a traditional turf house with a highland coo grazing in the background. We didn't stay long but it made for a good potty break before we headed up the road to our home for the next four days. 

The Highlands is a large region of the country, which meant this leg of the trip would involve a lot of time in and out of the the car in order to see all that we wanted to see. With that in mind I tried to find as central a location as possible to be our home-base. We landed in Fort Augustus on the southern shores of Loch Ness. Hogwarts, I mean The Highland Club, is a former abbey that has been transformed into individual apartments and yes please, I live here now. There are archways with actual gargoyles, a life-size chess board, green fields for a quick game of football, and then stone steps lead you to the pebbly beach and Loch Ness's dark waters. 

Just outside the gates of the property is the little town of Fort Augustus. The Caledonian Canal cuts down the middle and there are a couple of pubs, cafes and gifts shops on either side. On our first night we had dinner at The Bothy, and then popped into a few shops and picked up some things to have for breakfast in our apartment. 

The next day we hoped to have a little less rushing out the door to beat the crowds, less driving in general and just a more relaxed day. (As relaxed as you can be on vacation in a foreign country with three little kids.) We planned to stay around the Loch Ness area and only ventured about 30 minutes up the road to Urqhart Castle.  Thankfully we actually did manage to beat some of the crowds because often this time of year you have to book tickets and a parking spot ahead of time to guarantee entry.  We arrived just a little bit after it opened and there was still parking available but it was already filling up.  What remains of Urqhart Castle sits overlooking the water and used to be the seat of sometimes Clan Grant, sometimes Clan McDonald, sometimes the English crown. Even though not much is left it was still neat to climb around the stone structures and imagine the lives of those who fought to live there long ago. 

We got back to Fort Augustus in time for lunch. We grabbed sandwiches and sat at a picnic table to watch some boats pass through the canal locks before heading back for naps. The boys claimed to not be tired but their parents definitely needed a recharge and regroup. Then it was back in the car but only for a minute to see Invermoresten Falls. A quiet walk through the shady forest along the river led to a stone structure called the "summer cottage" perched precariously above the falls. Aside from some insane backpackers doing some cold water swimming we had the place gloriously to ourselves. There was a little playground near the parking lot as well that the kids enjoyed for a bit before we headed back for dinner.

That night we ate at the Boathouse restaurant on The Highland Club's property. It was another great meal and the kids enjoyed throwing rocks in the lake/at ducks while we waited for our food. Afterwards we, you guessed it, got back in the car. T.J. had gotten a tip from a gentleman he met in one of the shops in town. They got to chatting about hunting and he told T.J. about a spot not too far up the road. Go to Loch Tarrf, get to a high point, and you might get to see some stag in the evenings coming down for a drink. We followed these semi-vague instructions, pulled into a gravel spot on the side of the road and started hiking up.

Between the midges bothering everyone, the 4 year old tripping, the littlest wanting to walk but not being able to, we were probably the loudest stag-stalking party in the history of the world. But honestly it was one of my favorite parts of our trip. The sun was starting to sink lower casting a hazy golden glow, the smaller loch was tucked in between green hills with purple flowers carpeting the (albeit quite buggy) path we were on and T.J. was our determined leader.  We went a bit further, a bit higher until suddenly we saw massive antlers appear over the top of the ridge. Another pair stood up from where he was laying in the grasses and a third came up from behind.  We whisper-hollered at the kids to stop moving and crouch down and excitedly pointed and cheered our success. 

The kids and I turned back to the car then but I gave T.J. the go ahead to go a bit further on his own to see if he could get closer.  It was such a thrill and totally worth pushing through the midges and the moods and the multiple carseats.  We actually saw another herd of over a dozen stag on the drive back down, just casually grazing in a farmer’s front yard. While we still slammed on the breaks to admire them, the three we found on the hillside on our own were the most special to us. A gift at the end of one of my favorite days in the Highlands.  

{part 2 is next}