Andrew and I leave the city of Edinburgh and head west.
It was the morning of our third day in Scotland, and we woke up at 9:50 in our hotel in Edinburgh. Our appointment to pick up our rental car was at 10. We had slept in.
Flying out the door with our bags jammed shut and my hair still a mess, we hurried to the car rental shop, and in as little as fifteen minutes, we were driving through the streets of Edinburgh on the left side of the road in a fiery orange Volvo.
I wasn't nervous at all.
Without any practice, Andrew and I were thrust into the streets of Scotland's capital, maneuvering past pedestrians, construction zones, all while trying to figure out our next place to go. It was a little hectic, but Andrew had read about the rules of the road before our trip, and doing so made it much easier. We knew what most of the road signs meant, and how to (sort of) navigate all those roundabouts. There's so many roundabouts. Yet, Andrew was a fantastic driver. He never cracked under pressure-- even in the roundabouts.
Our plan was to make it out of the city and head towards Glen Coe, a small village outside of Fort William about a 3 hour drive northwest from Edinburgh. Wanting to take the scenic route (really though, all of Scotland is the scenic route), we didn't take the main motorways but instead, detoured through the rolling hills, and stopped in Stirling to have brunch.
Nestled in the hills about an hour outside of Edinburgh, Stirling is home to Stirling Castle, famous for being the coronation site for several Scottish monarchs, including Mary Queen of Scots. We parked beneath its looming walls, the castle towering above us as we walked towards town, hoping to find a bite to eat, and perhaps check out the castle afterward before hitting the road again.
It was another beautiful day in Scotland. The temperature was in the high forties and Andrew and I enjoyed walking in the fresh air, looking at the spring flowers and laughing at the wonder of it all. We had successfully driven out of Edinburgh without a scratch. We hoped the hard part was over.
As we were walking in the direction toward the center of town, we noticed a path that wound off the road. At the entrance to the path stood a sign that said a cafe was nearby in 200 yards down the path. Curious and hungry, we ventured on, and as promised, when we turned the corner at the end of the path, a sign above an unassuming door greeted us. Called The Smithy, the restaurant had been in business since 1595. You read that right. The year fifteen hundred and ninety five. Excited to eat somewhere far older than our country, we hurried inside.
A fire was burning in the fire place, the floors were made of creaky hardwood, and the whole place felt incredibly cozy. And it looked to us that we were the first customers of the day.
We sat down at a small table by the window and after receiving our menus and pondering our choices, I ordered a pot of tea, and a club sandwich with raspberry compote and a house salad. Andrew ordered a cold salmon sandwich and a house salad. Once again, the food was delicious, and we weren't surprised that this little hidden gem had been in business longer than most countries have existed.
After leaving the Smithy, we walked to Stirling Castle to get a view from above its walls, and to get a glimpse of this famous fortress that was once the capitol of Scotland. It was prized to Scottish royalty in its time for its strategic location on the River Forth, and is still known to this day as the Gateway to the Highlands. So, it felt appropriate that we had come here first.
From the top of the castle walls lay the Scottish Highlands. The mountains rose high above the clouds, and in the distance we could see rain pouring down into the valleys, grey curtains of rain sweeping over the land. Far from a lush tropical travel destination, this rain swept country hidden out of the sun was the most beautiful place we had ever seen.
We didn't stay very long to learn more about its history, we still had a long drive ahead of us to Glen Coe, so after taking a few pictures and enjoying the view of the surrounding hills, we headed back to our car and hit the road.
From Stirling, we drove south west on Route A811 toward the southern tip of Loch Lomond which would then lead us to route A82, a scenic road that follows the entire western shore of Loch Lomond totaling about 28 miles of gorgeous views.
It was hard not getting out of the car to take pictures every other mile, but we continued on toward Glen Coe, leaving behind the shores of Loch Lomond and heading higher into the hills of the Scottish highlands, the mountains becoming higher and the scenery more beautiful with each passing mile. Andrew and I saw countless waterfalls cascading down from the mountain valleys, and viaducts built centuries ago (see above picture).
It was close to evening when we reached one of the most memorable parts of our trip.
It was a quiet. Everything was so different from what we knew. No billboards screaming for attention, no traffic lights or petrol stations; If we were not driving in a car, we could have stepped through a standing stone ourselves and went back in time 200 years. Even the mountains felt different--not as tall or as vast as the Rockies, they somehow felt like wizened old men looking down on their land still untamed after thousands of years.
It felt haunting, driving through the mountains and mist.
Aside from the little ribbons of roads that wound through the valleys, almost nothing was touched. And because we went in the early spring, hardly anyone else was traveling through the area. I read in other travel blogs that in the summer months Scotland is packed with tourists. (So, keep that in mind should you decide to go someday.)
We stopped at one point to get out and explore the area before heading to our hotel, which was still about an hour's drive ahead. Although the sky was heavy with mist and the promise of rain, we found a trail that followed a stream fed by waterfalls that cascaded down from the surrounding mountains.
We walked for about 30 minutes, admiring the views of the snow capped mountains shrouded in mist, the streams of mountain water running down between rocks, all the while stretching our legs from the long car ride. We could have easily spent a few days just exploring these mountains. Paths snaked all over the valley and in the distance we saw a few backpackers trekking up one of them. It took a lot to not explore them, but the sun was sinking lower and lower and with the temperatures dropping quickly, we didn't want to be stuck outside in the dark on a mountain.
After getting back to our Volvo and driving for a few miles, we weren't in the car for very long when we came across The Meeting of the Three Waters, a giant waterfall with a bridge overlooking the gorge. A kind Scottish woman took our photograph and with more distance to cover before making it to our hotel, we headed off toward The Isle of Glen Coe hotel.
We arrived to our hotel shortly before nightfall, and it exceeded all expectations. As soon as we opened the door to our room, I was in awe--the view from our window looked like it was straight from a painting. A sailboat floated on the smooth, still Loch Leven and in the distance, snow capped mountains stood beyond the mist and rain.
All in all, it was another beautiful day in paradise.
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