Isle of Skye, Dunvegan and Neist Point Lighthouse

We knew the sunshine wouldn’t last very long so we got an earlier start on the day heading first to an ancient burial ground on St Columba’s Isle near Skeabost.

The cemetery is on the site of the Cathedral Church of the Bishop of the Isles from 1079 to 1498. Graves from that time are now evidenced only by irregular stones covered by soil and thick moss making the ground uneven.

The path from the car park lead to a long wooden bridge then into a rolling, green carpet of grass and moss along the banks of the Snizort River. The stone effigies are fascinating.

Dwight mapped out several stops along the drive, hoping to see as much of the Highlands as possible while we’re here. Google maps and a road atlas provided a wealth of information.

There are two types of roads on the Isle of Skye: “A” roads and “B” roads. “A” roads are similar to many secondary roads back home; wide enough for two cars, sometimes without lane markings and easy to navigate. “B” roads have no need for lane marking because they’re one lane roads with strategically placed turnouts to move aside when encountering vehicles coming from the opposite direction. These winding roads run through miles of hilly terrain populated by hundreds of ewes and their lambs grazing at the edge of the road.

Google maps are especially helpful in identifying interesting local landmarks along the route. One of these is the Glendale Corn Mill. The star review said, “A cute old mill which the farmers on the isle brought their wheat.” The drive to the mill took us down a long, winding B road. It’s fair to say Dwight didn’t particularly enjoy the drive though the scenery was beautiful.

A gate blocked the road about 20 yards from the final destination. There were no signs and the gate was latched with only a rope looped around a post so we decided to open it, drive on through and close it behind us. We’d encountered several gates meant to keep sheep out in different places we’d visited so we felt this was a similar situation. We drove up the last hill past a small house where a “crusty old Scotsman” was standing in the fenced yard. As we approached, the man walked forward and gestured to roll down the car window. Paige lowered the window and greeted the man. He asked where we were going and Dwight said “We’ve come to see the mill.” The unsmiling man looked at us blankly. After a few seconds he said in deadpan, “How exciting.” We couldn’t help but burst out laughing! “We are so sorry sir, but Google brought us here.” His mood brightened enough that he got his son to move a truck that was blocking the narrow drive so we could get a bit closer before walking to the mill. It had certainly seen better days and the tell-tale remnant of its past was the large rusted wheel on the side of the building.

We stopped on our way out to thank our new friend and his family for allowing us the access. Dwight told him, “blame Google”, he replied, “#&$ TECHNOLOGY!” We were right that the gate was there to keep the sheep away…fishing the sea had been his vocation and the two arm crutches he braced himself with attested to a life of hard work. Their family’s cottage overlooked the bay. Just across the driveway from the cottage was a comfortable park bench, with a small table and steel firebox in front of it, all facing the sea he had spent years on providing for his family.

Even though it took an unexpected turn, we all agreed that Glendale Corn Mill was the most memorable event so far and well worth the drive. I’m sure we’ll be retelling and laughing about the crusty Scotsman for a long time, and just as sure that he will tell about the naive visitors who wanted a look at a decrepit mill and his backyard.

Dwight gladly relinquished the driver’s seat to Riley who was equally happy to take it. The only thing more stressful than driving a B road is sitting in the backseat.

We stopped to check out a local craft fair in Glendale on the way to Dunvegan. Artists and vendors offered jewelry, handmade bags, knitted sweaters and other items including several photographs of the aurora borealis. He said he’d taken it just a few days earlier but it’s dark enough to see them for only about an hour and a half each day. The sun rises around 5:30 am and sets just after 9 pm.

A steady rain set in as we continued on to Dunvegan Castle. The forecast indicated it’d continue through the afternoon so it was good timing for the castle tour but not so great for walking around the gardens.

Dunvegan Castle is the oldest continuously inhabited castle in Scotland and has been the ancestral home of the Chiefs of the clan MacLeod for 800 years. Flora MacDonald lived there for a time after returning to Scotland when her son in law, Major General Alexander MacLeod was the clan chief.

The Fairy Flag of Dunvegan and the story behind it was one of the more intriguing artifacts on display. “Probably from Syria or Rhodes and woven of silk in the 4th century AD, legend has it that this sacred clan banner has miraculous powers. When unfurled in battle, the clan would invariably snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. “ Aside from ensuring victory in battle, its magical powers also include curing cattle diseases, increasing fertility and summoning herring into the loch.

There are differing versions of the origins of the Fairy Flag but all agree that the magical powers only work three times. My favorite is the Fairy Tower version. “One night when there was a feast being held at Dunvegan, a nurse put the Chief’s son in his cradle in the Fairy Tower and joined the party in the Keep. The baby became restless and kicked off his blanket, whereupon a Fairy came to comfort him, wrapping him in a silken shawl. When the nurse collected the child and brought it down in his fairy robe, the room became filled with the sound of unseen singers singing the Fairy Lullaby.”

Exiting the castle into a steady rain, Riley and Chris wanted to see the garden which was a little disappointing because a) it was raining and b) our visit was about 2 weeks too early for the blooms to be out. They spoke with one of the gardeners who told them that there would be a literal carpet of bluebell flowers. Dwight and I opted to forego the garden for a sheltered space.

Paige: Next was our highly anticipated lunch at a place called The Three Chimneys. Reservations were required and the restaurant was certainly the fanciest place we had been. It was a fixed price menu and we each had our choice of a starter, a main, and dessert. £75 per person which was expensive for us but we justified the splurge. Little did we know. I will only describe what I had. For the starter, an asparagus tart, twice baked strathdon blue soufflé for the main, and a pecan praline parfait. The waiter advised that they had special wines paired with each dish and did I want a “flight”. I said sure thinking it would be a small pour just for tasting purposes. Au contraire. It was a full pour so I had a full glass of wine for each delicately curated dish. I passed on a third glass with dessert. We were also asked if we wanted potatoes to go with our picturesque plates. Yes, please, we said.

Our bill should have been £150 plus the cost of the wine I had and Dwight’s beer and one glass of wine. Our bill when converted to dollars was over $300. We were charged for water, for the potatoes and £2 for charity??? Whew! We paid, of course, like it was no big deal because we are very used to having the finest. We got back in the car and laughed at our foolishness and decided we would eat a bit more modestly for the duration of our trip which wasn’t hard.

The rain didn’t deter us from checking out Neist Point Lighthouse. I’d say the weather added to the dramatic landscape with steep cliffs, wind and waves. Paige opted to skip the walk out to the point. Dwight, Riley and I zipped up our rain jackets and tromped through the bog. The views were spectacular!

The path you see in the distance led out to the lighthouse. We opted to hike to the cliffs on the opposite side instead.

I nearly dropped my camera when I leaned over near the edge of the cliff. I’d tucked it into my rain jacket to keep it dry in the wind and rain but didn’t zip it up securely. That was a close call!

Riley and Dwight walked ahead of me on the way back as I took a few more photos. The muddy path was getting wetter and slippery from the rain. My feet slipped out from under me and I landed on my but then rolled backwards, soaking my entire backside. Wet and dirty, I hurried to catch up. Apparently I wasn’t the only having trouble, Dwight also slipped and went down on his knee, then slipped toward the cliff. I’m glad he didn’t go far and even more glad Paige wasn’t there to witness it. I knew it would upset her. Of course my suggestion to not tell Paige wasn’t heeded. Riley was blurting it out before I could even get the car door shut. So much for listening to me. Thankfully it all worked out fine and we had another great story to tell.