Scotland - Where Dream Meets Reality

YourLifeIsATrip.com team members Ellen Barone, Judith Fein and Paul Ross are just back from an action-packed week at the Adventure Travel World Summit in Aviemore, Scotland. Below, they offer up an amuse bouche of words + photos from the trip. 

There are two Scotlands. One is the Scotland that people imagine and dream about: wind-swept landscapes, raging seas, rain, mist, then brilliant sun. People who have thick brogues, thin legs that stick out from under kilts, a wicked sense of humor, and a penchant for smooth, aged whisky. Bagpipes that are played to encourage the troops, terrify the enemy, or inspire tourists who have never heard their mighty power. A Robert Burns poem that is recited while a long knife is quickly inserted into a steaming haggis. Scottish-French-Asian fusion dishes that pop and surprise on the palate. On the remote isles of Skye and Mull, long-haired Highland cows roam and sometimes outnumber the inhabitants. Hikers, bikers and kayakers gear up, party down, and explore the fog-shrouded terrain. The drama of the Edinburgh castle and the deep history of the Royal Mile, with its medieval buildings, churches, closes, red phone booths, shops, and ghost tours.  

The second Scotland is the one that really exists: wind-swept landscapes, raging seas, rain, mist, then brilliant sun. People who have thick brogues, think legs that stick out from under kilts ...you see, the Scotland of your dreams is very much like the real one. Your Scottish dreams are real. Real Scotland is dreamy. Slainte! We lift a glass to toast Scotland. 

Photographers ELLEN BARONE and PAUL ROSS take you there with this just-back-from-Scotland slideshow....ENJOY. 

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To launch your own Scotland adventure visit www.VisitScotland.com.

Credits: Words by Judith Fein, photography by Paul Ross and Ellen Barone

Fear and Longing in Scotland

by Rachel Dickinson

When I was twenty I got on a plane and went to Edinburgh, Scotland, to live for a year. It was 1978 and I had just graduated from college and was headed to Scotland because I had won a fellowship from a foundation that wrote me a check for $6,000 and said have a good time. I had to do a project outside the United States and I chose one in Scotland because it seemed more exotic than England and yet they still spoke English. Kind of.

photo by by andyconniecox via flickr (common license)When I left my little village in upstate New York thirty years ago and landed in Edinburgh in the beginning of September I didn’t know a soul. I’d never traveled before, and wasn’t connected to a college or university so I knew there would be no one to help me make plans or to fall back on when I failed miserably at whatever it was I was going to do. I took a cab from the airport to the university and had the cabbie drop me off at the student union along with my suitcase and my backpack. Three hours later – after making one phone call to a number found on a card pinned to a bulletin board – I was standing in my bedroom in a flat in Morningside, a nice neighborhood of row houses just beyond the university. My flatmates were Phani, a man from Greece who had a brain tumor and was studying political science at the university; Amir, an engineering student from Iran; and Michiko, Amir’s girlfriend from Japan. We had varying degrees of proficiency in English from my less-than-perfect use of the language to Michiko, who spoke no English at all.

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Lunar Standstill at the Calanais Stones

words + photos by Elyn Aviva

It was a light and stormy night in late June, 2006, the second light and stormy night since we had arrived at the edge of nowhere. We had traveled for days to reach the Isle of Lewis, most northern isle of the Scottish Western Isles, to witness a rare astronomical event called the Lunar Standstill. Raw and rough, the wind felt as if it had blown in from around the world—and it had, for there was nothing in the Atlantic to slow it down.

We had journeyed by bus and ferry and car to stand before the Standing Stones of Calanais (aka Callanish), to participate in the once-every-18.61 years Lunar Standstill. The pale sun would set around 11 pm, and then the full moon would skim the southern horizon, go behind Sleeping Beauty Hill, and come out again—giving the appearance of a double rising—and shine between two tall stones in the central stone ring. Archeo-astronomers believe this marking of the movements of the moon gave the builders important power 5000 years ago.

Calanais consists of a slightly squashed central ring, four radiating stone arms, and an underground, box-shaped cairn. The central megaliths stand 8-12 feet high, their uneven silhouettes resembling a Rorscharch test. Was it a temple? A cemetery? A community center? A calendar? Nobody knows for sure. The silent stones reveal their purpose slowly, if at all.

We couldn’t wait to see the Lunar Standstill, but wait we had to. The night before, icy rain had ruined our chances. We hoped for better the second night, but the moon had coyly disappeared behind a layer of clouds, only occasionally peeking out. The event was taking place right before our eyes, but we couldn’t see it.

We had been drawn to this desolate distant land because we wanted to experience what the ancients had experienced (whatever that might have been) millennia ago. We were not alone in that desire. Shivering dreadlocked tie-dyed youth chanted and drummed to the moon, equally determined to have an experience. Nor were we and they the only watchers on that wild and windy night. A choir of Church of Scotland youth clung together, courageously singing “Amazing Grace” against the encroaching pagan forces. As if intimidated by such competing claims, the moon scuddled behind another back-lit cloud and stayed there.

At the end of the stone-lined path that led north from the ring of monoliths, a group of blanket-wrapped elders sat on chairs, impatient with those who blocked their view back down the aisle. Oblivious to their muttered complaints, a photographer set up his tripod in front of them. He pointed his camera toward Sleeping Beauty, waiting for a momentary glimpse of the moon gleaming between two grey and glistening stones. They looked like giant fingers pointing at the sky.

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