Day 1- “Each great adventure starts with one wrong turn"

“You ready? You don’t look ready!” I’m not exactly sure how I don’t look ready, but I am. I am ready for this adventure up to Skye. Within six hours we will be right up in the Scottish Highlands and beyond. Or so I thought…

As soon as we’re on the motorway, Dean spots a sign for Drumlanrig Castle. He’s got a bit of a thing for castles I think. So, off we go in search of the castle, Tom the sat nav apparently doesn’t approve of this, shouting “Turn around as soon as possible!” We don’t listen.

We pass a sign saying the castle is closed, but hey, what the hell we’ll have a look at it anyway, that’s ok. We drive around the area for a bit, looking out for the castle, and reach the edge of a small town…ok, we must have gone the wrong way, no problem, we’ll go the other way. Except we can’t find it in that direction either! Where is this castle? “Castle closed? Castle gone! I am gunna drive around here until I find this castle! I don’t care; I want to see the castle!”

We never found Drumlanrig Castle; we drove through Wanlockhead, Scotland’s highest village, we followed a red road around the countryside, we spent two hours driving around looking, but we never found it.

Its ok Dean says, “Every great adventure starts with one wrong turn!” That’s fine with me, I’m happy to just take in the scenery, not in any rush to get anywhere.

We pull into a tiny petrol station in Muirkirk where you can get any sandwich filling, as long as you like it with mayo and chicken. Luckily I do.

Driving along I notice how much Scotland looks exactly like the side of a shortbread tin, it’s as if the scenery has been painted on to the world. Apparently Tom doesn’t share this view and seems to have death wish, “Make a sharp right!” That would take us into the central reservation! Once again we ignore him.

We stop at a place called Pitlochry, where salmon are known to pass through, jumping out of the water, however today there is not a salmon in sight and Dean’s promise to catch me one with his teeth like a bear is unfulfilled.

The air is so clean and fresh, I can see my breath. It’s like walking around in a freezer. But the view makes it worth the cold; the trees are reflected on the water, all orange and green- the trees, not the water.


After eight hours of driving, we finally make it to the Kyleakin on the Isle of Skye. Dean is so excited that we have made it, but shocked that the YHA that he was so looking forward to staying in no longer exists that he mounts the curb!

We book into Saucy Marys Backpackers and start drinking. The bathroom in the hostel bar has that familiar hostel smell. If you have never stayed in a backpackers, well it smells like damp and mould.


Unfortunately, a couple who are sitting at the same table as us don’t exactly get Dean’s sense of humour and quickly turn their backs to us. It could also be the socks and thongs (flip flops) look that Dean is sporting, “Chicks dig it” he assures me. We are told that later there will be a guy playing guitar, “It’ll be Crowded House” says Dean.

Across the road is King Haakans where a band from Edinburgh is playing. Unfortunately the combination of their own songs and the David and Goliath fight on TV means that they are mostly playing to themselves.

We head back over to our hostel, and walk in to the bar where the guy is playing ‘Take the weather with you’…by Crowded House…“I told you!” the next hour is spent with Dean shouting requests and singing along, loudly, with the guitar man.

12.30am is bedtime. I don’t sleep much that night. Dean has threatened to engage in behaviour known to take place in hostel dorms…hosing…or in other words pissing on people while they are asleep. I am the only other person in the dorm and not wanting to experience this, I am on alert but manage about two or three hours sleep eventually.

Day 2- “We’re just gunna stop here so I can kick all those stones down!”

The day starts with breakfast, a full Scottish breakfast- complete with haggis. I try it but can safely say I won’t be eating that again!

As we arrived in the dark last night, we take a drive around the island to have a look. Last night, I had changed Tom’s voice to that of a Norwegian male and Dean is completely confused, at first thinking that he just didn’t hear properly, then realising he can’t understand a word Tom is saying. Little things please little minds; I’m highly amused.

After a while, Dean announces, “We’re just gunna stop here so I can kick these stones over.” And with that, he’s out of the car and like a man possessed is kicking over small piles of stones while I take in the scenery. I’m not sure what it was about the stones that made him so angry, but he seems happier when he gets back in the car.

We travel over the bridge that connects the island with the mainland; something that the locals strongly opposed before it was built, but it makes life easier and within five minutes, we are back on the mainland.

Later we stop at Eilean Donan or “Highlander Castle.” We passed it last night, all lit up, but in daylight it looks even better.

Outside, there is snow on the hills, clouds are at tree level and there are mini waterfalls along our route.

After another seven hour drive we make it to Edinburgh, and it is at this point that Tom chooses to have a meltdown. Thrown off by road works on his prepared route, he just shuts down, occasionally suggesting we turn around before going silent, choosing only to speak when he thinks we have made a wrong turn.

After a wild goose chase, Tom announces we have reached our destination, “Oh Tom, we thought we’d lost you!” However, Tom hasn’t led us to our desired location; instead he has directed us to a college car park. Another half an hour passes as we try to work out where we are and how to get to the hostel.

Finally we make it to the Smart City Backpackers, check in and go for a walk around Edinburgh, up the royal mile to Edinburgh Castle (see, didn’t I tell you before Dean had a thing for castles!?) When we get there, a small guided tour is about to start. The mention of refreshments sounds good, but we decide against gate-crashing it.

Back in the hostel, it is time for some food. Proper food, not like yesterdays chicken and mayo sandwich fest, I want a meal. So, burger and chips ordered, Malibu and coke in hand, I’m ready to chill out, and the fire alarm goes off. “That’s a lovely noise, but I am not leaving my Malibu!!!”

Dean wants an early night so while he tries to sleep I attempt to tune the TV in so that I can watch X Factor; yes I am that sad. When I finally manage to get a signal, I am told “you’re as happy as a pig in shit,” and I am!

Day 3- Homeward Bound

Dean “Gooooood Morning!”
Me “Urgh…go away!”
Dean “Ooh somebody’s not a morning person today.”

Let me just tell you that it was 7.30am. I don’t do mornings; I prefer to believe that the day doesn’t start till lunchtime and therefore attempting to get any sort of positive reaction from me before this time is pointless, and often results in a toddler style tantrum, complete with foot stomping.

Eventually I manage to drag myself out of my bed and get ready to drive back to Carlisle. By 8 o’clock we are in the car, happily having avoided the dreaded parking attendant and his apparent “especially nasty attitude.”

Much like me, Tom isn’t a morning person either and has not yet woken up, leaving us to drive around Edinburgh, hopefully in the right direction. It seems we have taken the scenic route, but eventually we make it on to the road out of the city and through the Scottish countryside.

With it being an early autumn morning the sun is still rising through the fog. Outside the fields are covered with frost, the land is very white and wintery. Inside, Chris Moyles chats away on the radio to Kimberly from Girls Aloud about when they climbed Mount Kilimanjaro.

As the sun continues to rise, even the sun visors can’t keep it out of our eyes. You know how it is when the sun sits at that level, right in your eye line and you can’t see anything. So for a while, we drive along hoping that whenever we turn into a road it isn’t a one way street or there isn’t a car waiting to pull out.

We make our way through the Scottish Borders, at one point stopping in the back of beyond at a tiny little petrol station that also seems to double as a post office. It’s a pretty old fashioned thing to come across, but there’s something sweet about it.

After a short time we make it back to Carlisle, back to normality. Dean carries on his journey, getting the train down to Liverpool, while I go back to uni that afternoon. Back to real life where Skye and our little adventure with Tom becomes just a fun memory.

November Rain

I have lived in Carlisle now long enough to see every season…

Winter,

Spring,

Summer and

Fall (which we all know is Autumn, but that’s not how the song goes)

But the one thing about living in Carlisle is that whatever the season, it will rain, and it will rain HARD!

Right now the city is on flood alert; a months worth of rain is supposed to fall in 36 hours and there ain’t a lot of places for that rain to go.

It’s so weird how important the weather is, some people pray for rain after months of drout. But that rain is also the thing that can destroy places. Up here in the far north of England, the people most affected are farmers trying to move their livestock away from the danger, the people whose houses have been filled with dirty water.

It’s also a scary thing being told that your house might flood. It also makes you realise just how shallow you are I suppose. When I found out that my road was a potential flood area, the first thing I did was pack my shoes! That’s right, if the Rivers Eden and Petteril joined forces, the thing I would be most concerned with is shoes.

I also got scared because I am from the most land locked place in the country, no river, no sea, no streams, and in the summer (a good summer) not so much as a puddle…ok so we haven’t had a good summer for a looooong time, but you understand what I am trying to say. The thought of a city under water scared me, waiting in the dark for some sort of wave of sewage to come through the door.

Luckily, that hasn’t happened yet. Walking home through Rickerby Park from uni I got to see for myself how much rain had fallen…and it was a lot. Picnic benches were submerged up to their seats, pathways were no longer visible and the river had burst its banks.

So right now as the rain comes and goes, I’m still waiting for something to happen, hoping it doesn’t. But I’m a lot less scared then I was yesterday.

Carlisle to un-Settle-d and beyond

It’s always an unsettling feeling when you’re not sure you’re on the right train, but this feeling seems to be shared by others until the ticket checker confirms that we’re on our way to Leeds.

This is the first time I have taken this train and it is as far away from the comforts of my usual modern Virgin train to the south. The Northern Metro trains are like little brochures for where they are heading, each of them with pictures on the side giving a little insight to their route. It’s quite sweet really. It is just two carriages of seats, no shop or internet, or even phone signal for the first hour and a half. This could be interesting…

Our first stop is Armathwaite where the station consists of a beautiful cottage style building and two platforms, totally different to Carlisle’s modern monster of a station. As we pull away from the station, there are even goats running around in a field close to it. The air is thick with the smell of petrol, so much so that it begins to give me a headache.

Outside, the golden yellow and orange leaves shine, offset against the familiar grey sky of Cumbria.

Our next stop is Lazonby & Kirkoswald, where we are greeted in a similar way to Armathwaite, an old fashioned brick house and two platforms, one in, one out. Here, the platform is decorated with flower beds, and even has a garden ornament of a rabbit holding a wheelbarrow. I’m definitely in the country now!

For a while the scenery keeps me entertained, so much so that my neck starts to ache from looking around at the view. Then all of a sudden, I feel as if I have been asleep with my eyes open, realising that the vibrant autumn colours have faded away to browns and beige. There aren’t many trees and the land looks bare.

When my parents came to visit last year, my dad was desperate to travel on the Carlisle to Settle railway. Armed with brochures he told me over and over how much he would like to take this trip. Unfortunately, we didn’t do it while he was up (though I’m sure when they come to visit again it will be first on his to do list). The one thing that stood out from the leaflets was the Ribblehead Viaduct; it seems to be the picture that appears on everything used to promote the railway. But here’s the thing, I spent my time looking out of the window waiting to see this infamous viaduct, not remembering that I was on the train and therefore would be travelling over it, unable to see it!

Finally, after three hours on the train we arrive at Leeds station and it is absolutely huge! Luckily I know the time of my connecting train, but if I didn’t, I would definitely have got lost in the maze that is this massive station. Not satisfied with having about 17 platforms (I think), somebody had the genius idea of creating five platforms on one e.g. platform 12c. So after my initial shock and fear (I come from a place where we have five stations maximum, anything more and I get scared), I make my way to the platform where the train is off to Selby, my final destination.

This is where I get scared again, what with it being the autumn, it gets dark pretty early and as I have never taken this train before I am terrified of missing my stop and ending up in the back of beyond.

I sit on the train, shuffling nervously, probably looking a bit shifty really. Luckily I only have two stops to go and when we get to Selby, the woman sitting next to me is getting off here.

So, I made it to Selby, I travelled along the Carlisle to Settle railway and I survived Leeds’ confusing station. Although I was nervous at times, I got through it.