Kyle of Lochalsh
The morning dawned grey and mysterious. Soon the Lord of the Glens was making its way out of mist-shrouded Loch Nevis, and heading northwards through the Sound of Sleat towards our final berth at Kyle of Lochalsh. No longer does a Viking princess demand tolls of passing shipping from her stronghold of Castle Moil on the rocky shore opposite. Now it is merely a romantic and precarious ruin. No longer does the old ferry plough the waves backwards and forwards between the mainland and the Isle of Skye, since the fine, new bridge joined the Misty Isle to the rest of Scotland.
Our final activities of the voyage were similarly nostalgic. A select detachment from the ship was treated to a special tour around the spectacular gardens at Inverewe with one of its principal gardeners, but most of the party opted for a visit to one of Scotland’s most celebrated castles, Eilean Donan. Set on a windswept rock, occupied first by prehistoric chieftains and then by Early Christian saints, the great stone castle was built here in the early 13th century as a bulwark against the Norsemen. Throughout the later Middle Ages it changed hands numerous times, and as the historic events have become lost in time, the myths and legends surrounding it have grown. It was finally destroyed in 1719, another victim of the Jacobite troubles, only to be restored again to its former glory in the early years of the 20th century. It was fascinating to explore all the nooks and crannies of this most wonderful and historic castle.
On the way back to the Lord of the Glens, there was time to stop in the delightful village of Plockton, where the charming cottages and their tiny, exquisite gardens nestle around the bay. The skies remained grey and looming, fulfilling all our expectations of a truly Scottish experience. Back on board the Lord of the Glens, we looked forward to our last night together, and to a memorable traditional dinner with the haggis piped in by a piper in full regalia, and the Ode to the Haggis declaimed in finest Scots style. A perfect way to end a splendid voyage.
The morning dawned grey and mysterious. Soon the Lord of the Glens was making its way out of mist-shrouded Loch Nevis, and heading northwards through the Sound of Sleat towards our final berth at Kyle of Lochalsh. No longer does a Viking princess demand tolls of passing shipping from her stronghold of Castle Moil on the rocky shore opposite. Now it is merely a romantic and precarious ruin. No longer does the old ferry plough the waves backwards and forwards between the mainland and the Isle of Skye, since the fine, new bridge joined the Misty Isle to the rest of Scotland.
Our final activities of the voyage were similarly nostalgic. A select detachment from the ship was treated to a special tour around the spectacular gardens at Inverewe with one of its principal gardeners, but most of the party opted for a visit to one of Scotland’s most celebrated castles, Eilean Donan. Set on a windswept rock, occupied first by prehistoric chieftains and then by Early Christian saints, the great stone castle was built here in the early 13th century as a bulwark against the Norsemen. Throughout the later Middle Ages it changed hands numerous times, and as the historic events have become lost in time, the myths and legends surrounding it have grown. It was finally destroyed in 1719, another victim of the Jacobite troubles, only to be restored again to its former glory in the early years of the 20th century. It was fascinating to explore all the nooks and crannies of this most wonderful and historic castle.
On the way back to the Lord of the Glens, there was time to stop in the delightful village of Plockton, where the charming cottages and their tiny, exquisite gardens nestle around the bay. The skies remained grey and looming, fulfilling all our expectations of a truly Scottish experience. Back on board the Lord of the Glens, we looked forward to our last night together, and to a memorable traditional dinner with the haggis piped in by a piper in full regalia, and the Ode to the Haggis declaimed in finest Scots style. A perfect way to end a splendid voyage.
