Carbisdale->

Instead of actually working on my (other) essay, I decided to spam photos. It's only been, what, a month and a half since the last instillation of this ten-day journey.

I'm actually going to split this one up quite a bit, 'cause when I say 'spam photos,' I really mean that I liked them all too much -- or rather, was too lazy to discriminate -- to leave any out, and it's a pain to do posts with more than a dozen and a half or so pictures.

'T any rate, last time, we concluded the Highlands, ending technically on Shin Falls, although the day ended with Carbisdale. Well, this is Carbisdale. They have a youth hostel in a castle. Can you get more awesome?

Inside was pretty neat. Obviously a pretty worn place -- it was, in case you were wondered, thoroughly painted, papered, and carpeted, so no bare stone walls or floors -- but quite lovely. Lots of plaster nudity, some cracked paintings. The library was fantastic: glorious, big room, warmly furnished, with two great bookcases (must've been easily ten feet long?). I prevented Mom from going to bed on time because I sat and read Kidnapped all that evening. It seemed appropriate.

So yes, lots of castle-y pictures here. It was really a grand old place. The morning was drizzly and wet, but I couldn't help taking a few commemorative pictures. Mostly because Mom wouldn't let us leave until I did.

I admit to a great fondness for scenes framed by walls and thingies. Is it obvious?

Also, the grey, rainy light of the Scottish morning may not be classic picture-taking light, but it gets some really gorgeous (if painfully amateur) glow-y-y effects.




I should intersperse comments about my general life here, if only to break up the great white spaces.

Well, I won't.

So there.




Wall. Pretty wall.

I tried to take a picture of a spiderweb, but it was quite beyond my poor camera's capabilities. Alas.

Yes, as it happens, the view was lovely. That sort of goes without saying in Scotland.

No, it doesn't, necessarily. I was employing artistic hyperbole.

Well, not necessarily artistic.

Just kind of smug, really.

These were the outer gates, some space down from the actual castle. This place was somewhat out in the middle of nowhere -- I think it was only about four or six miles from the nearest town, but it was a windy, lonely little path and the signs were easy to miss.

Onward and upward, in theory. Westward and southward, actually. From Carbisdale, we headed towards Skye. I think most of these pictures really go without saying.

If you look really hard, you can see a bridge in the background.

No, I don't remember which one it is. Why?





The houses across the loch. Often pretty little white things, strung together by long and winding roads.

Wouldn't you like to live there? I'd have no objections, me.

Redundant images? Just possibly.

Darned pretty, though.

Just so you know, there are about a zillion lochs in Scotland. They're often hard to find on the map, and it's even harder to remember all their names, so I hope you'll forgive my memory on this count.

Despite the camera's complete failure to capture the epic scenery, this is probably among my favourite pictures.

Flower!

Probably two more posts to conclude this day -- I can't remember how many pictures I took of Eilean Donan. Prettiest castle ever.

Anyway, more forthcoming. Possibly even soon.