Biking the Highlands
Yesterday, Monday, I rented a mountain bike for the entire day and did some serious work. I biked east about six miles to the moors of Culloden. Culloden is the site of the last battle fought on British soil. The battle took place in 1746 and was between the Catholic Jacobites, the Highlanders, led by Bonny Prince Charley against the Duke of Cumberland and the government’s redcoats. It was hard understanding all the history surrounding the events because I am still trying to get straight the monarchy in Great Britain. It seems to be one confusing mishmash of this guy followed this guy who got beheaded and then his nephew’s sister came to power. I think I like having our republican system of government with elected officials.
The battlefield was cool. There wasn’t really anything special there. I think I just enjoy battlefields. It was good Scottish weather, cloudy with a slight drizzle. I need to speak with a Scot about the battle of Culloden because part of me wants to sympathize with the outnumbered Highlanders and Jacobites who were fighting for a cause, even though they were Papists. But part of me wants to sympathize with the government army, probably mainly Protestants who were determined to hold onto their empire. I think that just might be my Imperialist tendencies, I don’t know.
I biked back, grabbed lunch and then decided to bike down to Dores on the loch. Dores is about 8 miles from Inverness and there really isn’t anything there. On the way, I stopped to watch a farmer’s sheep dogs move an entire flock through two massive fields. It was incredible. I’ve never seen sheep dogs in action, but it was very intriguing. It made me want to move to the highlands and herd sheep.
In Dores I grabbed my last pint of beer on British soil, a Guiness; they were out of nearly everything else. I also spoke with a man, Steven, who lives in a van down by the loch. He has been living there for over 15 years now. As a child, his parents took him to the loch where he heard the Nessie stories. His dream was to find the monster and so when he was about 27 he sold all his stuff, bought a van and moved alongside the lake. I had heard about this guy before and was expecting some long-haired, really crazy guy who believed in government conspiracies, Roswell landings, and who knew the identity of the JFK assassinator. Instead, I found a short-haired man, completely rational, just following his dream. It was slightly inspiring till I began really contemplating the fact that I didn’t want to spend my days living in a van down by a river carving little figurines of Nessie for tourists. He believes the monster to be a large, catfish-like creature who roams the lake. Which makes one wander: ‘Why would you give up everything to go in search of a large catfish?’ I can see doing it in the hope of discovering some fire-breathing leviathan plesiosaur, but not a giant catfish.
Over my pint of beer I weighed the pros and cons of joining Steven on his quest. Having decided it just wasn’t worth it, I biked back to Inverness; my days in God’s country, Scotland, have now come to a close.
Today I leave for Liverpool by plane. From the John Lennon airport, I fly south to Rome. It is about 70 degrees here in Inverness which means it is bound to be nice and warm down in Italy. I hope to write soon enough with stories of Gellatto, the capital of the Romanists (maybe some Pope action), and stories about one of the world’s greatest empires.
The battlefield was cool. There wasn’t really anything special there. I think I just enjoy battlefields. It was good Scottish weather, cloudy with a slight drizzle. I need to speak with a Scot about the battle of Culloden because part of me wants to sympathize with the outnumbered Highlanders and Jacobites who were fighting for a cause, even though they were Papists. But part of me wants to sympathize with the government army, probably mainly Protestants who were determined to hold onto their empire. I think that just might be my Imperialist tendencies, I don’t know.
I biked back, grabbed lunch and then decided to bike down to Dores on the loch. Dores is about 8 miles from Inverness and there really isn’t anything there. On the way, I stopped to watch a farmer’s sheep dogs move an entire flock through two massive fields. It was incredible. I’ve never seen sheep dogs in action, but it was very intriguing. It made me want to move to the highlands and herd sheep.
In Dores I grabbed my last pint of beer on British soil, a Guiness; they were out of nearly everything else. I also spoke with a man, Steven, who lives in a van down by the loch. He has been living there for over 15 years now. As a child, his parents took him to the loch where he heard the Nessie stories. His dream was to find the monster and so when he was about 27 he sold all his stuff, bought a van and moved alongside the lake. I had heard about this guy before and was expecting some long-haired, really crazy guy who believed in government conspiracies, Roswell landings, and who knew the identity of the JFK assassinator. Instead, I found a short-haired man, completely rational, just following his dream. It was slightly inspiring till I began really contemplating the fact that I didn’t want to spend my days living in a van down by a river carving little figurines of Nessie for tourists. He believes the monster to be a large, catfish-like creature who roams the lake. Which makes one wander: ‘Why would you give up everything to go in search of a large catfish?’ I can see doing it in the hope of discovering some fire-breathing leviathan plesiosaur, but not a giant catfish.
Over my pint of beer I weighed the pros and cons of joining Steven on his quest. Having decided it just wasn’t worth it, I biked back to Inverness; my days in God’s country, Scotland, have now come to a close.
Today I leave for Liverpool by plane. From the John Lennon airport, I fly south to Rome. It is about 70 degrees here in Inverness which means it is bound to be nice and warm down in Italy. I hope to write soon enough with stories of Gellatto, the capital of the Romanists (maybe some Pope action), and stories about one of the world’s greatest empires.
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