Holibobs

I need a holiday. I haven’t been on holiday for about 10 years. The place I’d go to without fail? The highlands of Scotland of course. My fathers family came from Banff and MacDuff on the North East coast of Scotland and further back from Glen Morriston and Corriemony off of Loch Ness or the Great Glen. The highlands is a healing place. It’s a lonely place of solitude where the air is so clear that you can hear a pin drop from a mile away. The years seem to fall off as you climb higher and higher and it seems as if there isn’t another person for hundreds of miles. If you’re quiet you can sometimes see a pine marten or capercaillie. On one occasion I was lucky enough to see a wildcat. Hundreds of deer dot the hills and buzzards circle high above on the thermals, looking for rabbits. I once saw a sea eagle when I was looking out over Glen Cannich. It was a crystal clear day, I could hear the stream behind me thundering from the spring thaw and just above my head so close I could hear the wind passing over it’s wings, it appeared. I watched it pass over and into the Glen. What made this an even more special moment was that my two boys were there to share such a special moment in time.

There are abandoned crofts, their old owners long gone, perhaps emigrated to America forced out by greedy landlords and sheep. Maybe they’d had enough of subsistence living and yearned for something more. These empty houses are all over the highlands, tumbled down walls and roofs fallen in and covered in moss. My own family history is wrapped up in the Jacobite uprisings. The Grants of Glenmoriston stood with the Glengarry MacDonalds on the far left of the highland army that faced the redcoats in April 1746. The loss of that battle led to ethnic cleansing on the same scale as we have seen in recent years.

It is strange that a place so wrapped up in tragedy and heartache lends itself to healing and calmness but it undoubtedly does so. There are some wonderful pubs where the live music gets you drinking far too much and the friendly chat of the locals reminds you of your ancestors. There’s nothing like a highland lock in and a vast selection of whiskies! I remember once being so drunk trying to walk home with my equally drunk dad that I fell into a ditch. It was no ordinary ditch but a sewage outlet and the new coat I had on was rather ruined. It was a great night!!

I love the majesty of the mountains and it takes your breath away every where you look. The changing light that skims the mountains ensures that it has a different look every time. From the wild coast of Ardnamurchan to the East coast every place has its charm and beauty. The Cairngorms are grey and brutal, the Trossachs gentle and green and the Great Glen a riot of colour.

I need to go there this year. I need to heal some more. I need to breath deep the cold crisp highland air, deep into my lungs, to clear out the dust of Suffolk! I need to walk to the top of a mountain and play my pipes forever, looking out over the Glen and remembering my family, my father, my ancestors and the good times I’ve always had when I’ve gone home.

Places to visit

Glen Affric

Glen Strathfarrar

Glen Coe

Ardnamurchan

Culloden

Inverness

MacDuff

Glen Cannich

South side of Loch Ness

Plodda Falls

Dog Falls

Queens Rock

Falls of Foyers

Black Isle

Mam Rattagan Pass

Plockton

Glen Affric