Highlands

A Walk In The Highlands
Photographs by Rod MacDonald
In August of 1998 a group of friends and fans rented a house in the southern 
Scotland countryside for a week and invited Nicole and I to join them. I played 
a couple sets of music each evening in the house (joined on 
one occasion by England's Terry Clarke), as well as appearing at the 
Edinburgh Fringe Festival and in a local pub, where we all got down with the 
locals. It was a wonderful time, and was captured on video by Tim Blixt and 
Gary Ashorn, and on photos by Arthur Wood and myself. 
Since Gary is also a pro videographer, his company, 
Digital Memories, produced AWalk In The Highlands  as a full-length 
video, which includes music performances and some 
still photos which really look great on your TV.


The group made a second trip to Nova Scotia, in September 2000;
for details of future excursions please write to JERIANN1@prodigy.net. 

Click on any photo to see it full size.
All photos available as  prints or computer printouts (see below)


   
      
         
         
         Loch Lomond
      
      
         We had a few days before we
         went to the house, so we rented a car and drove into the
         Scottish highlands, passing Loch Lomond, truly a beautiful
         lake to drive beside, then upwards toward Fort William, past
         a few wild-looking peaks towering above the flat green
         landscape below.
      
      
         
         
         Highland Peak
      
   
   
      
         
         
         Highland Ferry
      
      
         We spent the evening in a
         local pub with some old friends, then made the 5 a.m. drive
         to Mallaig, two hours of one-lane winding road to the sea.
         There we caught the ferry for the three-hour trip to Canna,
         where we had heard there were puffins.
      
      
         
         
         Canna Harbor
      
   
   
      
         
         
         Our B & B
      
      
         Canna is a small island, its
         calm harbor wrapped in a horsheshoe of green land, with a
         small mountain behind the house where we slept a couple of
         hours.
      
      
         
         
         School
      
   
   
      
         
         
         Old Church
      
      
         Then we started walking, past
         the schoolhouse where the children of the island's 17 adult
         residents study their lessons, past the abandoned church
         that marks the edge of the settlement, past someone's
         shrine, to the far cliffs overlooking the isle of
         Rhum.
      
      
         
         
         Shrine
      
   
   
      
         
         
         End of the
         Isle
      
      
         Here, at the extreme and
         unpopulated end of the island, three-hundred foot cliffs
         stand opposite a giant rock of equal height, known locally
         as "The Stack". Also sheer on its sides, it is totally
         inaccessible, and thus provides a safe home for hundreds of
         puffins. 
      
      
         
         
         The Stack
      
   
   
      
         
         
         Puffins On the
         Cliffs
      
      
         Unfortunately, they were
         still a hunded yards away, and too small to photograph. So
         we waited, and explored, and eventually they got used to us,
         and came to our side of the abyss for awhile, watching the
         sea from a different angle, allowing us to get
         closer.
      
      
         
         
         Puffins Up
         Close
      
   
   
      
         
         
         What're You
         Lookin'At?
      
      
         Crawling on my stomach to
         within a few feet of the small birds, I shot these photos on
         the cliff edges. 
         
         Rhum, incidentally, is the last
         known address of my father's direct ancestor in Scotland;
         according to the official records, he moved to Nova Scotia
         in 1808 and never went back. 
      
      
         
         
         Cargo Dinghy
      
   
   
      
         
         
         Rhum
      
      
         So it was interesting to pass
         the island the next morning on the ferry. Today, Rhum is a
         nature preserve, with only a ranger and his family there. It
         has no harbor, so the cargo (and sometimes passengers) are
         sub-ferried to shore on a dinghy.
      
      
         
         
         Skye
      
   
   
      
         
         
         Shearing The
         Sheep
      
      
         We had a quick lunch in
         Mallaig and moved on, taking the afternoon boat to Skye,
         where, on a rare sunny day, we visited the Clan Donald
         Center, observed a sheep being sheared, had a photo op at a
         ruin, and spent the night in a backpacker hostel overlooking
         the bay.
      
      
         
         
         Photo Op (photo by
         Nicole)
      
   
   
      
         
         
         Portree Harbor
      
      
         The next morning we headed for
         Portree, Skye's capital. It rained hard all night and all
         the next day, but we pressed on, driving the one-lane road
         along the cliffs around the top of Skye,visiting historic
         sights such as the grave of Flora MacDonald, who hid Bonnie
         Prince Charlie, the last royal Scot to attempt independence,
         as he escaped the British armies. his destruction total,
         only his person worth saving.
      
      
         
         
         Flora's Grave
      
   
   
      
         
         
         Charlie's
         Hideaway
      
      
         Cold, wet, and needing some
         hot tea, we turned up a gravel road to an isolated cafe, and
         found there the ruin where Prince Charles Stuart had spent
         his last night in his own country dressed as a maid, the
         British scouring the countryside for him. Like the song
         says, he had come "over the sea to Skye" in flight. We
         crossed back to the mainland, stopping briefly at Loch Ness
         to pay our respects to Nessie,
      
      
         
         
         Nessie
      
   
   
      
         
         
         Edinburgh street
         performer
      
      
         then headed south to Dun's
         for our week at the country house. During the following
         week, we visited the Edinburgh Festival and the Abbotsford
         home of the noted writer, Sir Walter Scott.
      
      
         
         
         Abbotsford
      
   




All photos shot on slide film and when printed have a higher resolution 
and longer life than prints made from print film. 

To order a copy of the video, "A Walk In The Highlands," click here.

Loch Lomond	We had a few days before we went to the house, so we rented a car and drove into the Scottish highlands, passing Loch Lomond, truly a beautiful lake to drive beside, then upwards toward Fort William, past a few wild-looking peaks towering above the flat green landscape below.	Highland Peak
Highland Ferry	We spent the evening in a local pub with some old friends, then made the 5 a.m. drive to Mallaig, two hours of one-lane winding road to the sea. There we caught the ferry for the three-hour trip to Canna, where we had heard there were puffins.	Canna Harbor
Our B & B	Canna is a small island, its calm harbor wrapped in a horsheshoe of green land, with a small mountain behind the house where we slept a couple of hours.	School
Old Church	Then we started walking, past the schoolhouse where the children of the island's 17 adult residents study their lessons, past the abandoned church that marks the edge of the settlement, past someone's shrine, to the far cliffs overlooking the isle of Rhum.	Shrine
End of the Isle	Here, at the extreme and unpopulated end of the island, three-hundred foot cliffs stand opposite a giant rock of equal height, known locally as "The Stack". Also sheer on its sides, it is totally inaccessible, and thus provides a safe home for hundreds of puffins.	The Stack
Puffins On the Cliffs	Unfortunately, they were still a hunded yards away, and too small to photograph. So we waited, and explored, and eventually they got used to us, and came to our side of the abyss for awhile, watching the sea from a different angle, allowing us to get closer.	Puffins Up Close
What're You Lookin'At?	Crawling on my stomach to within a few feet of the small birds, I shot these photos on the cliff edges. Rhum, incidentally, is the last known address of my father's direct ancestor in Scotland; according to the official records, he moved to Nova Scotia in 1808 and never went back.	Cargo Dinghy
Rhum	So it was interesting to pass the island the next morning on the ferry. Today, Rhum is a nature preserve, with only a ranger and his family there. It has no harbor, so the cargo (and sometimes passengers) are sub-ferried to shore on a dinghy.	Skye
Shearing The Sheep	We had a quick lunch in Mallaig and moved on, taking the afternoon boat to Skye, where, on a rare sunny day, we visited the Clan Donald Center, observed a sheep being sheared, had a photo op at a ruin, and spent the night in a backpacker hostel overlooking the bay.	Photo Op (photo by Nicole)
Portree Harbor	The next morning we headed for Portree, Skye's capital. It rained hard all night and all the next day, but we pressed on, driving the one-lane road along the cliffs around the top of Skye,visiting historic sights such as the grave of Flora MacDonald, who hid Bonnie Prince Charlie, the last royal Scot to attempt independence, as he escaped the British armies. his destruction total, only his person worth saving.	Flora's Grave
Charlie's Hideaway	Cold, wet, and needing some hot tea, we turned up a gravel road to an isolated cafe, and found there the ruin where Prince Charles Stuart had spent his last night in his own country dressed as a maid, the British scouring the countryside for him. Like the song says, he had come "over the sea to Skye" in flight. We crossed back to the mainland, stopping briefly at Loch Ness to pay our respects to Nessie,	Nessie
Edinburgh street performer	then headed south to Dun's for our week at the country house. During the following week, we visited the Edinburgh Festival and the Abbotsford home of the noted writer, Sir Walter Scott.	Abbotsford