Our Trip to Scotland: Skye and Raasay

After listening to rain pelt the roof all night at the Luib House, I woke with low expectations for our dream day on the Isle of Skye. Our goal: to drive the Trotternish Loop and see all the stunning natural wonders and have lunch at Skye Pie cafe.

We're from Oregon. We know how weather works. Yesterday we had some luck with lining up sun breaks with our getting out of the car. Just because it's raining at one moment doesn't mean it will rain all day. Right?

Wrong.

It rained all day. Sometimes it was raining hard, like when we hiked part way up to the Old Man of Storr. Other times it was barely misting, like when we climbed the fence to look around the ruins of the Duntulm Castle.

Jonah and Isaac sat in the car for almost everything today. Isaac read Harry Potter almost non stop and Jonah took a lot of naps.

We drove by Skye Pie Cafe too early. Rick Steves says they open at 11. Also, it's too early for lunch before 11 anyway, so we did a loop of the western most part of the Trotternish Loop, a part of the island with the utterly asinine invention: the one lane road.

Here's how it works. You drive as fast as you possibly can down this curvy, pot hole-ridden, bumpy road that fits only one car. Every so often there will be a turn out for you should you come upon a car approaching you from the other direction. The goal is to be close to one of these turnouts before getting plowed into.

Oh, and just for fun, we'll throw in random sheep in the road.

Let's just say my stress level from driving is back up to heart attack. But without the side of stroke. So that's something, I suppose.

Spoiler Alert: we didn't die on the one lane road, and the Skye Pie cafe was closed for the season. So we headed to Portree for lunch. It was fine.

After lunch we walked around Portree a very little bit. No one in my family cares to browse bookstores as much as I do. One of us likes to browse candy stores. Another could look at replica swords and knives all day and the other prefers looking at maps. So we were definitely out of sync when it comes to looking around. I wandered down to the harbor that is known for it's row of pastel houses to get a few pictures, but evidently I take too many pictures and I was fussed about it until we did what? What?? What did they want to do?

Go back and sit in the car.

We loaded up on shortbread and other treats from a bakery and drove to the ferry terminal to sail to Raasay. The journey was 20 minutes and our accommodations here are quite impressive. Odd, but impressive. I'm not sure what to make of this renovated old estate that started out as the estate of Clan Macleods after the original home was burned down after Culloden in 1746.

The best part of this place has to be the stately library with a wood burning stove, lots of leather chairs and couches, and a stunning view out to the water. I got to sit there for about 30 glorious seconds before someone came in and suggested we take the car out on one lane Scottish roads again.

I'm going to call it a day.

Our Trip to Scotland: All the Weather

I'm sitting in a Bed and Breakfast in Luib, on the Isle of Skye, while pea sized hail pelts the roof-line window in our upstairs bedroom as I compose this update.

Our hostess, Marilyn, says we have free wifi but only for email and information. No uploading or the rest of the guests' wifi will slow down. So I will write now and post pictures later.

We woke to bright sun and blue skies at Kingsmill Hotel in Inverness. The hotel was pretty nice and we all slept like logs. Especially those who were waiting for the bathroom to brush teeth, etc. They found they couldn't wait the 2 minutes and promptly fell asleep in their clothes and were nearly impossible to wake up.

We had a really lovely breakfast buffet and did NOT try the haggis. I will admit I chickened out. I would have tried a bite, but the pieces were huge (huge for haggis, which I suppose isn't that big, but still . . .) and no one else wanted to share a piece with me.

We headed over to Culloden Battlefield and by the time we got there, the weather was cold, windy and starting to rain. Most of the exhibit was inside and I was worried that Jonah and Isaac would be bored, until we found them at the feet of one of a costumed volunteer explaining every kind of weapon available to the British and Scottish in 1745. They were entranced, especially when he showed them how one could hold a leather covered targe and an dirk in one hand to handily disembowel a person.

We then headed out to the battlefield in the freezing wind and rain. It was miserable, and we didn't really get the full benefit of the audio tour because of frostbite potential. The whole time I kept thinking that the highland clans fought in this weather wearing SKIRTS!

We headed into downtown Inverness for some lunch and ended up at a mall. We tried to go somewhere else, but it was the only parking we could find. After lunch we walked around a bit. The skies were blue again and I snapped this picture of a lovely unicorn statue. (unicorn statue not pictured).

A few minutes later it was hailing.

Luckily, we were in our car and on the way to Loch Ness.

We pulled into the parking lot of the Loch Ness Centre and Exhibition, but because a) we didn't have a lot of time and b) the place looked a little bit groovy, we decided instead to give the gift shop a quick look around and head to Urquhart Castle.

Isaac got this darling hat for his birthday. Which was today.

Urquhart Castle was awesome and, pro tip, we got a 3-day pass for £48 which will allow us entrance into Sterling and Edinburgh Castles, too. Family entrance to just Urquhart would have been £27 for our family.

The castle was a hit with the boys, but at dinner tonight when I asked them the highlight of their day, it was that costumed guy at Culloden with the guns and dirks and swords.

We drove from Urquhart Castle as fast as we could to the Isle of Skye. Still, cars were passing us on the narrow, winding road. Also, it was snowing. Today's driving was less hair raising. I only had to shout, "Left side!" once in the morning and the rest of the day Robert was fantastic. Blood pressure level: rollercoaster. (Yesterday's was heart attack with a side of stroke).

We had planned to tour Eilean Donan castle on our way to Skye, but it was closed and we were in a hurry to get to our B&B before check in time expired at 7pm. Or as they say here in Scotland, 19:00. We had clearly planned too many activities for one day. Do you know how hard it is to pick things to do in Scotland for 7 days? It feels more like you are instead choosing all the things you CAN'T do. Still it was okay. We stopped to see Eilean Donan and Robert and Jonah ran up for a few pictures and ran back. I got this picture from the car. (Picture of Eilean Donan will be forthcoming).

We checked in to the Luib House and ran out for some dinner. Isaac got a baked Alaska for dessert and we quietly, and not annoyingly, sang Happy Birthday to him while he dug in.

Tomorrow: The Trotternish Loop for some beautiful hikes. Lunch at the Pie in the Skye (hopefully!) and then a ferry to some other island for our next night's accommodations.

Cheers!

Our Trip to Scotland: The First 30 Hours

We started our trip to Scotland at 4:30 am Tuesday morning when we drove to the Portland Airport. We then boarded a flight to San Francisco, better described as a 90 minute fight for the armrest with turbulence.

In SFO, we waited for 4 hours for our connecting flight to Keflavik, Iceland. The flight attendant outfits AND the flight attendants were darling. Isaac asked what language they were speaking and when I told him, "Icelandic," he said, "That's a language?" 

Yes, it definitely is a language. However, when they were hawking rental iPads full of movies and games to use the whole flight, I could not tell if they said they were $16.99 or $60.99. We got one, so I hope the price was $16.99.

Here we are, happy, at the beginning of a 7-hour plane ride. 

We landed in Iceland and the flight attendant announces, "Welcome to Keflavik. The current time is 3:30 am and the weather changes every 10 minutes.

We had a couple hours in Keflavik, so we hung out, spent some króna, and tried to nap a bit. (That's Isaac in the background).

I should mention the bathrooms in the Keflavik airport are spectacular. They didn't have bathroom stalls so much as individual, closed off, totally private bathrooms. And the faucets both wetted and dried my hands automatically. It was a little cray, but awesome at the same time.

It was about this point that Robert admitted my Rick Steves Scotland guidebook is better than the Scotland guidebook he carefully researched on Amazon before purchasing. Winning!

Other things learned in Iceland: Americans can be awful. No one needs to know that much detail about how you almost joined the mile high club, or what your feet looked like before your pedicure, or how you got that scratch on your leg. And why (for the love of all that is good and wholesome), did you SnapChat a picture of the scratch to all your friends?

Trip goals: discretion, grace, an not being annoying.

Did you know that when you board the airplane in Iceland to Edinburgh you have to go outside? They take you in a bus across the tarmac to a waiting plane. You get out of the bus and then you climb some stairs. You wait on the stairs in the blowing wind and 34 degree rain just before it starts freezing rain and snow while they load the plane. Jonah, pictured here in a short sleeve shirt, claimed he was not cold.

The two-hour flight to Edinburgh was literally a snooze fest.

Finally, we get to Edinburgh and we get our car.

Folks, they gave us a car. With little more than a "don't forget to drive on the left side of the road," (and a bunch of signatures and up-sell tactics), they gave us the keys and set us off. It's possible it took multiple tries for us to get out of the airport complex. The Scots LOVE their round-abouts.

This is not our car, but a poorly executed picture of the kids. I blame the sun being in my eyes. 

Also, the roads are insane. It's like we're dealing with a country whose infrastructure was planned a thousand years ago! 

Tonight we are in Inverness and we took a short drive over to Castle Street for a Rick Steves endorsed dinner. I suggested something else and Robert said, "Is it in Rick Steves' book?" We saw the Inverness castle (Rick says don't bother: it's not that old and it's only a courthouse now, not anything exciting) and walked around the grounds. We paid our respect to Flora MacDonald for saving my ancestor, and moved along.

I have a feeling I'll be trying haggis soon.

Next up: Culloden Battlefield (if Isaac lets me fulfill a dream by going. He said since it is his birthday tomorrow, and a battlefield sounds boring, he'd rather do something else. Like go to a drug store and buy a lot of candy). We are also seeing Loch Ness, Castle Eilean Donan, and The Isle of Skye.

(Isaac says, why do you guys have to plan everything out so there is no room for exploring? I say, "what would you like to do?" He says, "I don't know. I haven't spent all that time researching like you did.)

An Open Letter To Your Bloody Foot

Dear Bloody Foot,

I'm so sorry you have been injured to the point that you now have blood coming out of you. Or maybe the blood has dried up and now it's just a scab. Or maybe it's a scab and a deformed ankle. Or bruising combined with elephantine swelling. Or, maybe you were horribly burned at a Tony Robbins leadership retreat featuring hot coals.*

I'm sorry. Whatever happened must have been horrible and traumatic. I cringe for you.

But please know, there is not one single scenario that should result in you posting a picture of yourself to social media. No, really. There isn't.

I know. You're thinking, I am spectacularly bloody and the bruising is epic. No one has ever seen a foot this messed up before.

Just stop.

No one wants to see you, bloody foot.

I wasn't going to say anything. Up until now I simply "hid" the picture or "unfollowed" the rest of the person attached to you. Problem solved. But what should clearly have been a one off has turned into a disturbing trend that I struggle to understand.

Bloody foot, why do you think that you, in all your gore, would be of interest to anyone other than a podiatrist, or that person who designs Band Aids for weird-shaped body parts? This is really the biggest mystery, almost more disturbing than the photo itself. Almost.

My only guess is that there is some hormone, specific to foot injuries, released when you are injured, making you believe that everyone is dying for a close up. They're really, really not.

So, bloody foot, I beg you, wait until you've healed and then post pictures of your recently pedicured toes digging into a sandy beach. Snap and post shots of you decked out in your latest shoe purchase. An artsy black and white of your tootsies popping out from under the sheets next to a loved-one's tootsies? Great!

But if you're bloody? Keep it to yourself.

*Updated 27 June 2016

The Jell-o Project: Orange Fluff

For Brian's Back to the Future themed birthday dinner party, I decided that Jell-o needed a place at the table. But not molded Jell-o or cut and serve Jell-o. I wanted a Jell-o salad that you could scoop, and that would go well with pizza.

Whether or not it went well with pizza is still up for debate, but Orange Fluff Jell-o Salad was another, too-good-to-be-healthy "salad." And it probably isn't healthy, but I made it anyway.

The recipe made a LOT of orange fluff. I should have known this would be the case when I saw it called for a full pound of Cool Whip. That's a lot of Cool Whip. I brought the salad to the party and it didn't even disappear by half!

So I brought it home for the kids.

The feedback was typical.

Jonah grabbed a bowl and used it to scoop orange fluff, so that the side of the bowl was covered in fluff. It was a mess. "I didn't want to dirty a spoon," he said. I pointed out he could have used the spoon he was currently eating with. "Oh yeah," he said.

Jonah loved it.

Isaac was leery. There is fruit in it, after all. Not just fruit, but nasty black bananas that look lovely on the day you make it, and horribly unappetizing the next. I should have skipped the bananas. He had about two bites and said it tasted fine, but that was all he wanted.

Ethan? Who knows if he's had any. Probably not.

Robert? I don't think so.

I've had several servings and think it is great. Not something I'd want more than occasionally, but certainly not bad. I think calling it a fruit salad is a stretch. Vanilla pudding, orange Jell-0, 16 oz. of Cool Whip, marshmallows and then a little canned fruit.

It's totally dessert.

Which is why I don't know why more people don't eat it for dinner. If this passes as a salad, why would you not eat it.

"Yeah, I had a big salad for dinner tonight," sounds so much better than, "I had a big bowl of pudding and marshmallows for dinner tonight." If you can get away with that kind of subtle trickery, why wouldn't you?

Lost Retainer: REWARD!

You know how sometimes kids lose things*? 

Also, you know how those things are sometimes soul-crushingly embarrassing to admit you own, and therefore almost impossible to talk about resulting in a lowered probability of ever, ever finding them?

Finally, there is a solution: The ambiguous LOST flyer. 

No one has to know. Identities are not disclosed. You don't even really need to bring the humiliated teen's name up at all. Just print 400 of these beauties up, plaster them all over town, and preserve the dignity of your ungrateful teen. 

*Posting for a friend.

4am on Shaw Island

I woke at 4am thinking of Shaw Island.

How wonderful it would be to sequester myself in a little home on this tiny island in the Washington State San Juans and just write, undisturbed, probably with a view of the sea. I would take walks every few hours to break up my writing day, but mostly I would write.

There would be no one to ask me to fix their watch. No one would say, "what are you having for lunch, and can you make me one." There would be no fights over the yellow highlighter to referee.

With only 240 year-round residents (many of which are nuns and monks) the chances of running into another person on this 7-square mile island would be rare. The general store even closes down for the season in October. Distractions would be virtually nonexistent.

I started to make plans in my head for getting to Shaw Island.

Then I realized that 4am in our home might as well be Shaw. Except for the water view, it is quiet and undisturbed. I should be able to write for several hours without so much as a "make me breakfast!" And once I'm in my head, it doesn't really matter where I'm sitting.

So why not get up now, and write on my imaginary Shaw Island?

I snuggled a little father down under the covers.

It's hard to get out of bed at 4am.