From Braidwood to their cottage on Skye is about 6 1/2 hours without stops. I decided to take the windier, more western route (really, I have done the A9 more times than 90% of the Scottish population – time for a change). I’ve driven the Great Glen & Glencoe several times before, but that was in the days when I could not take my eyes off the road for even a nano-second and usually in overcast or even rainy weather.
Well, that drive was spectacular. I marvel at the number of Scots I meet who have never been up the West Highlands (Benidorm has sunshine, beaches, and all-inclusive resorts, I guess). As I started up Loch Lomond, I wanted to stop at every single passing place and take photos, but I had to accept that that wasn’t feasible and, apart from one or two stops, I would have to rely on my memories of this day instead. I was able to slow down quite a bit and enjoys the views, as it was a Sunday morning and I was almost the only car on the roads.
The sun on the changing trees and bright blue water was almost blinding. There are those who talk about feeling the somber atmosphere and sense of gloom at Glencoe (not nice things happened there, but now is no time to get into a three-hundred year old betrayal), but all I felt was wonder and elation that I was getting to see this part of Scotland in all its glory just before my return home. We picnicked at the Commando Memorial, overlooking Ben Nevis. I’ve seen Ben Nevis many times, but this was the first time I actually saw its peak (usually shrouded in fog or mist). The sun stayed with me the whole way north, with only the slightest mist once we reached the Isle of Skye. A perfect driving day.
The trip home four days later was completely different and upon reflection, deserves its own story.
