The air was calm yet full of life as heard by the seagulls flying about in the distance. It was twilight. A slight chill brushed my face as Sandy and I walked around the quiet village center towards the pier, watching the sky change from a pale pink to a purplish/ blue, the same color as the ocean, the Cullin mountains outlined in the distance. Little colorfully painted boats reminiscent of tugboats were bobbing in the harbor, their little lights flickering as if chatting with each other. The harbor was outlined by colorfully painted shops, hotels, and seafood-themed restaurants that only a fishing village could get away with and not look tacky.
I stood in awe, my eyes mesmerized at the scene in front of me, lapping it up like a thirsty dog on a hot day. In preparing for this trip, I was ready for cold, wind, and rain but instead, I got sun, little wind, and mild temperatures much like I'm used to at home or even slightly better. I didn’t want to blink for fear it would vanish. How can one moment contain such a perfect balance of peace, excitement, and awe? It's a beauty on nature's terms like that of a woman's beauty, free from make-up and botox-filled lines, yet when looked at with the heart one finds a living masterpiece. I found myself holding my breath, hoping I could prevent this moment from ceasing.
This was the Isle of Skye, an island on the west coast of Scotland in the highlands and the land of my ancestors. The clan MacNichols runs through my blood and has been traced to this island. On this three-day tour, I hoped to meet them.
I admit upon arriving in Scotland to begin my search for my ancestral roots, I quickly became disheartened because there was no sign of their existence in any of the tourist shops bearing trinkets with the different clan names. I searched all variations of the name, thumbing through the 'M's' and the 'N's' - nothing. How can this be? It's like we didn't exist. This challenge to the MacNichol clan lit a fire in me to bring their name to the surface.
Our tour began in Edinburgh at 9am. Sandy and I ate breakfast and hopped on the next bus to take us to High Street where we met up with the tour group. It was hard to leave breakfast so early because the food is so good. The sausage melts in your mouth it’s so juicy and tender!
We got in our 16-passenger van and were led by an entertaining and extremely knowledgeable tour guide, a native of Scotland (which helps!) complete with a great accent. I must say while I had a certain expectations of what Scotland would look like and they were met – the green, tree-covered hills, large lochs (lakes), and green glens (valleys). There were some parts of the landscape that took me by surprise.
Leaving Edinburgh we went through Stirling and stopped for lunch at Ft. William with periodic stops in between. Some of the landscapes reminded me of the Nevada wilderness with its brown shrubs. I did not expect this. These shrubs were heather plants which were just beginning to wake from their winter slumber. Come Fall, they would turn into a vibrant purple covering the moors and the surrounding hills. What a sight that would be! I was surprised to learn most of the pine trees covering the hills are not native but planted for harvesting, making paper and other goods from them. They do make for a beautiful contrast of different shades of green.
We passed several sites, including Glencoe where various attacks occurred clan against clan; England against clan; or England causing a clan to go against a clan, similar to our modern day gangs. The land has a wild past characteristic of its landscape. Scotland character and its landscape are like a tousled head of unruly, red hair set on top of England’s cleanly shaved face, hair England has been trying to tame for hundreds of years but not without a fight.
The more stories our driver shared about Scotland's history, the more I learned about how the Scottish were treated, especially by the English. No wonder the Scottish don’t prefer the English! This story was beginning to be personal. A sense of grief filled me. It made me understand a bit more the struggle my ancestors went through, to loose their land and their possessions due to the highland clearances, and to be shipped off to another country – such hardship. Yet the Scottish as is with the Irish are a tough bunch and have the will and stubbornness to survive.
I look forward to learning more about my ancestor's history as I continue this quest. Until then, Sandy and I just enjoyed the best burger made with Scottish beef that melts in your mouth, having the consistency close to meatloaf. We also tried the native Scottish soda, Urn Bru. It's orange in color tasting like orange soda, cream soda, and a hint of Sprite all in one. It may sound like an odd combination but it's good. Walking to dinner tonight we heard wafts of bagpipes playing in the distance and saw it was a group of high schoolers practicing outside at the school. It was the finishing touch to a wonderful day.
As I stood looking at Skye harbor, I knew I was given a gift – a sacred delight. To paraphrase one of my favorite authors, Max Lucado, it’s sacred because it’s from God and a delight because it’s a surprise. I could picture God, giddy as a school boy, grinning ear to ear, waiting for me to experience His best on this island. The fine, clear weather is showing this island at its best and I can't wait to see what others delights are in store.
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