British Isles- Day 8 & 9- Northern Scotland

Wednesday, July 20, 2011- Invergordon, Scotland

We arose later this morning at 8 A.M. Our tour wasn’t scheduled until this afternoon, so we had the morning to goof off shipboard. We hit the gym, for an hour of weights and stationary bikes, to help stem the caloric ride. Then, we had a late breakfast in the deck 15 horizon’s cafe. The place always seemed to have a crowd anytime that we entered. Maybe it is the ambiance of sitting 18 decks high over the ocean and surrounding countryside that entices a longer and leisurely breakfast.

Early this morning, the ship had entered and berthed in Cromarty Firth in the far North of Scotland. We were looking forward to seeing some of the rural beauty of the brae-covered hills.

We idled on the deck promenades and whiled away a quiet morning at sea, reading for a time on our balcony and enjoying the cool air and beautiful surroundings. Back home, the Eastern seaboard was sweltering under 100 degree temperatures.

The Princess Theater on deck 7 was our rallying point for the afternoon tour. Crew members led us down to the disembarkation ramp and we exited the ship and mounted up our bus. Driver Colin McDonald and guide Edith Ross would be our hosts for the afternoon.

The bus drove along the picturesque Crowmarty Firth. It is one of five Fjords in the area. “Firth” is the anglicized equivalent of the Norwegian term “Fjord.” The area had served as a massive Naval staging area during the second World War. Now, a floating oil rig sat idly, out in the firth, waiting for repairs. The North Sea Oil boom, supplying its rigs and workers , had provided a brief economic spurt for the area.

Edith gave us a profile on the surrounding area. Ross and Sutherland Counties, in the far North of Scotland, are a “protected Zone.” Dolphins, seals and many species of birds are protected from all hunters but natural ones. Salmon fishing is very popular in the area. The production of Scotch Whiskey, at the large Glenmorangie distillery, also provide many local jobs, The distillery produces over four million liters of good Scotch, yearly. Wheat, oats and barley, grown in local fields, are the main ingredients for that much desired nectar.

We traversed several local hills and dove up along Dornoch Firth, enjoying the scenic and nearly empty countryside. This is rural Scotland at its prettiest. We were headed up into what the tour called the “highlands” and the locally famous “Falls of Shin.” Conversations with local residents later told us that this area has but minor hills. The real “highlands” are in North Central Scotland. They are traversed by what they call “class B & C” roads, not really suitable for huge landcruisers of the touists groups. The scenic venues, from the movie “Braveheart,” would have to remain something we would imagine in the far away hills.

The bus passed through the scenic village of Alness. The buildings are of Edwardian design, and made of brown sandstone. Many floral baskets hung from the lampposts, giving the small town color and charm. The road signs are in both English and Gaelic. The area shares their heritage with Ireland, just a few score miles across the Irish Sea.

Edith showed us a patch of “tatties” (potatoes.) I think it was the first time I have actually seen the fabled tuber in the raw fields, though I have eaten it all of my life. Tatties and “Haggis,” a sheeps stomach, lined with oatmeal and other delctables, are the local favorites for dinner.Edith also solved another riddle for us, that of the “painted sheep.” The shepherds apparently paint the underbelly of the male rams. When the rams mount the females, they leave a painted spot on the ewe’s back, indicating that the animal has been “serviced,” an important component of animal husbandry. After that explanation, I now look at the painted ewes somewhat differently, the hussies.

These lower highlands are composed of sandy soil that is still water laden, creating a “highlands bog” of sorts. It makes for difficult road construction. The natives calls them “floating roads” because of their tendency to rise and fall with differing weights traversing them and climactic conditions. There is also a fierce little bug called the “Michie” that causes much aggravation to residents during rainy seasons.

The guide told us of a condition with which we were much familiar. Like their Irish Cousins after them, the Scottish peasants had been “displaced” by the Duke of Sutherland in the 1700s . It was a mass exodus to clear the land and make it more suitable for large scale agriculture. The ancestral Duke of Sutherland had owned much of this area of Northern Scotland and been among the wealthiest gentry in Europe at the time. We were to see the ancestral manor, perched over a high cliff, later in the day.

The disposessed Scots had emigrated, in starving thousands, to Canada, Australia and the United States. It was not a bright spot in Scottish history. But , their descendants thrive in many Scottish enclaves around the world. We had come upon many such colorful settlements in Nova Scotia, Canada and in the Western Carolinas of the U.S.

The hills here are seeded with second growth conifers. The original woods having been long ago been removed for lumber and firewood. There were sheep were aplenty and the fields lush and ripe with grains. We arrived at the tourist area of Shin Falls. It features a large caravan
park (camping area) and a tourist outpost that sells food, all manner of tourist baubles and bric a brac. The main attraction, after descending a series of steep and slippery steps, is a small falls area in the local stream. During the Salon run, whole schools of the red fish “climb the ladder” of the Falls here, in their journey to lay their eggs upstream. We saw none today. A few wader-clad fisherman were trying their luck near the Falls. The rest of us stood looking at the small Falls and wondering what we were doing here and if we were really that gullible to come this far to stand around a small falls in a river and pretend that is is a momentous natural attraction.

We had cappuccinos and wonderful scones, with clotted cream and jam in the tourist center. We shared a table with Jim and his wife Jo from Oxford. We had met them at dinner a few night back. We had tried a sip of the local Nectar (whiskey) and talked about its virtues. It gave me the idea to pick up some of this noble drink when next we stopped.

On the way down from Shin Falls, we passed Sutherland Manor. It is a three-story, Georgian-style manor of brown sandstone, with 365 windows looking out from the venerable home. The Sutherlands had ruled the area for hundreds of years like a feudal fiefdom.

Royal Dornoch village was our first stop. The Brown sandstone Cathedral here dates to the 13th century. In curious juxtaposition of historical eras, the current local point of pride is that pop star Madonna had had her son Rocco christened here.

The flowers, hanging from many of the buildings in the village, are eye-catching and restful to look at. We wandered the town for a brief few minutes, stopping in a small store for a fifth of Glenfiddich. We were in Scotland and I meant to salute it properly later on our Balcony.

The day was waning as we motored through the quaint village of Tain. It had been chartered by Saxon King Harold of Essex in the mid 11th century. History is a present and everyday state of mind in these parts.

As a last bit of cultural information, Edith talked about the horrendous taxes here in Scotland. Gasoline sells for almost $9 a gallon. Home taxes are very steep. All of the UK was finding that their very generous social and medical programs come with a precipitous cost and societal effects that troubled the average working citizen.

The bus rolled ship side, just after 6:30 P.M. We were among the last to board her before she got underway. We had a quick shower and headed off to dinner in the Davinci dining room. We were seated with ‘Trish” from Southern California and Roy and Rita from Boston. Trish’s cousin and room mate had unexpectedly bailed out on her in Edinburgh, heading home for California, homesick.

Crab meat and as[aragus appetizers, caesar salads, a red snapper filet and cherries jubilee made for another memorable repast. A glass of Mondavi cabernet accompanied the pleasant meal. After dinner, we wandered across to the Princess Theater. A talented pianist ,by the name of Ray Cousins, was playing a “tribute to Frank Sinatra.” Ray had apparently worked for Sinatra, in Las Vegas years back. He entertained us with some memorable tunes from “Old Blue Eyes.”

It was late, but this was our only time in Scotland. Back in the cabin, I opened up the GlenFiddich and drank a hearty toast to an estimable land of people from whom some of my own had sprung.

Thursday, July 21, 2011- Aboard the Crown Princess in the North Sea, headed South for Belfast, Northern Ireland.

We were up early at 8 A.M. The sun had risen at 5 A.M. this far North. It was 50 degrees out and the seas were calm. We were 1,000 miles north of Southampton, as the ship made its way through the Oriskany islands. They are dark, volcanic and brooding looking off on the horizon.

The gym on deck 18 was our first stop. We spent an hour hitting the weights, treadmills and stationary bikes. We were losing the caloric battle but still trying valiantly to stem the tide.

At breakfast ,in the Horizons lounge, we sat with Maggie Stuart from Glasgow. She is a nurse and chatted amiable about her lovely city and the culture and mores of her people. Although both charming and pleasant, her thick Scottish burr made half of her speech unintelligible to me. I nodded in the right places. I hoped and tried to carry on an intelligent conversation. My own Great Grandmother had hailed from her city in the 1870’s. A poor serving girl, with the undistinguished name of Elizabeth Smith, there was little chance of tracking down her origins when we visited there.

In our cabin we read for a time. The Kindles are wonderful in that they store dozens of books in the small plastic wafer that weighs but a few ounces. Then, we watched that magical movie “Avatar.” I much enjoyed the segue into the future after walking so much through the past these last few weeks.
A leisurely lunch and an extended nap made for an extremely enjoyable day, ship-board. A late afternoon sample of that estimable nectar, Glenfiddich had us in motion for dinner. It was another “formal night” at dinner. Everyone would dress in their finest to parade the main promenades in a floating version of the “Easter Parade.” Confident that I had two shoes this time, we dressed and headed out for the evening. We stopped in the very crowded “Crooner’s Lounge” and enjoyed a drink amidst the other nicely decked out passengers. It really is nice to see people dress up after being in “pools scruff” or traveling gear all day.

8:30 P.M. found us in line at the DaVinci dining room. We were seated with a charming Canadian Couple. They hailed from the far North of Quebec, near the border of Nova Scotia and the mouth of the St. Lawrence River. In that we live on the border of Canada, we had a lot in common and were able to talk with them about Canadian politics and the relative merits of their parliamentary system versus the U.S. presidential format. A lox and prawn appetizer, salmon bisque, Spicy Tiger Prawns and an English Toffey Ice CReam made for another enjoyable repast. Who knows when we would dine like this again?

After dinner, we retired to our cabin to read and enjoy the waning light of this Northern climb. It was still light at 10:00 P.M. and cool, blessedly cool. Our next stop would be in Belfast, Northern Ireland.