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| comment | | "parent_author":"",<br>"parent_permlink":"writing",<br>"author":"jamtaylor",<br>"permlink":"lochgoilhead-in-the-shadow-of-glowing-hills",<br>"title":"Lochgoilhead: In the shadow of glowing hills ",<br>"body":"This week marks the anniversary of my time spent in Scotland,<br> a land of my ancestors,<br> and a beautiful and magical place \u2014 if you allow it to be so. The following is an account of some time spent in Scotland,<br> in a little town called Lochgoilhead in particular. I am nervous posting it because I feel like it is not very refined,<br> I am not a seasoned writer,<br> and it was written years ago with a few edits over time. But,<br> let's just get it out there and move onwards!\n\nSo here it is.\n\n____________\n\nhttps:\/\/i.imgsafe.org\/eb9178c2a2.jpg\nOld Lochgoilhead\n\n# Lochgoilhead: In the shadow of glowing hills\n\nWe made our way slowly down the narrow winding track which led from Rest and Be Thankful through Hell\u2019s Glen. I had to concentrate on the sharp corners and avoiding potential head-on-collisions with oncoming traffic on the one track road. Still,<br> I couldn\u2019t help taking in our surroundings. Everywhere you looked,<br> there was natural beauty. Sure,<br> it\u2019s nice back home in Barbados,<br> but this was different. It was different in that I had never been here before,<br> and yet there was a familiarity with the landscape.\n\nGrowing up in Barbados I was privy to many excursions to the beach. I was raised by the seashore with salt in my hair and the sun on my skin. My mother,<br> a Trinidadian of mostly European heritage,<br> worked very hard to keep my brother and I in a good home and sent us to a private primary school. We never knew what it was to want,<br> although she did on our behalf. We were raised by mother and grandmother,<br> with times of fatherly influence here and there. I\u2019d gone on many fishing trips with my father,<br> both from the shore and out at sea\u200a\u2014\u200aso far out that the land was not visible any more. Most of the fish that were caught were Mahi-Mahi,<br> Wahoo,<br> and Marlin,<br> my favourite of which would be Mahi-Mahi,<br> which we called Dolphin here in Barbados for some unknown reason.\n\nMy wife and I were married just 2 years before our Scotland trip,<br> after courting for 6 years. Her childhood was slightly different to my own. I was the first of two children,<br> she was the sixth of seven. Her mother had been married before and had her first five,<br> then remarried to a much younger man and had Tiffany and her brother. Their father is an Englishman who had come to Barbados with his family as a teenager,<br> and he,<br> like my mother,<br> never forfeited the accent of his birthplace. She has her mother\u2019s eyes,<br> in a way. They are big,<br> bright and cheerful. In fact,<br> one is green and the other is partially blue.\u00a0\n\nWe had come to Scotland on an ancestral pilgrimage. The plan was to get together with some distant relatives,<br> and to meet others for the first time. We came to Lochgoilhead specifically because it was here in the late 1700s that my earliest known Scottish ancestors were born. It was here that they eked out their living in the cool waters of Loch Goil. As fishermen,<br> as maid servant in Drimsynie,<br> and on the dewy grass of Corrow fed their sheep. It was here that I read about in my Great,<br> Great Grandfather\u2019s journal. This was his father\u2019s birthplace and how he knew it well. I knew that I had to make this trip.\n\nMy great,<br> great grandfather Duncan Campbell was born in the little town of Arrochar,<br> just northwest of Lochgoilhead,<br> in 1847. Through my family research I discovered his journals,<br> which were written between 1880 and 1884. I soon felt a real connection with Duncan. I could relate to him. I read about his journeying to London by ship to have his ailing eye treated by a doctor,<br> and having to remain there for a few months while it healed. He visited Paris,<br> and returned to Scotland to see his family and to visit Lochgoilhead. One thing is for certain,<br> he loved his family in Trinidad very much and pines over being away from them. It was through the journals that we confirmed the connection to Lochgoilhead.\u00a0\n\nhttps:\/\/i.imgsafe.org\/eb8685ad8a.jpg\nThe one picture that I have of Duncan,<br> he has a long beard with tufts of grey in the sideburns. In fact,<br> his beard is not too different than my own. Not very thick,<br> and it doesn\u2019t grow under the bottom lip except for the bit in the middle. A receding hairline showing a large forehead and a strong eyebrow ridge. His eyes are slightly sunken. The black and white photo is old and faded. He looks contemplatively off to the side,<br> a content look on his face. How I wish that our lives could have overlapped,<br> I am sure we would have gotten along. Sadly,<br> we are three generations removed. But I know Duncan,<br> I know him more than I know my grandfathers. There\u2019s just something about him that intrigues me.\n\nWe came to a Y in the road and took the left to continue on towards Lochgoilhead. This little town came alive with tourists during the summer months when Glaswegians would come out to enjoy the water and the country living in their summer homes. This is much like back home where city-folk,<br> like myself,<br> would head East like pilgrims to prostrate themselves there on that altar of sand overlooking the Atlantic,<br> with many a joyful libation made,<br> to get a much-needed break from \u2018the real world\u2019.\u00a0\n\n\u201cLochgoilhead B839\u201d the sign read,<br> as I pulled up to the second Y in the road. To the right was Drimsynie,<br> a place I already knew on paper but had yet to experience myself. To the left was the \u2018town\u2019 and our base for the next few days: The Shore House Inn.\n\nWe took the left. There would be plenty time to explore the Drimsynie side of the loch,<br> and first located where we would be staying. We crossed a bridge over a gently flowing river and on our right was the sign for the Shore House,<br> we slowly crunched along the loosely gravelled pathway to the parking lot and stopped with The Shore House to our left and the loch straight ahead. It had begun to drizzle,<br> which it did quite often. Here,<br> you would usually just get dewed and damp,<br> but hardly ever drenched,<br> unlike back home. There was just a constant state of moisture that seemed to even rise up from the ground. There were days without rain with sunshine and blue skies,<br> but much of the time was intermittent drizzling.\n\nMy first look at the loch was breathtaking. The tide was low,<br> exposing dark pebbles,<br> shells and moss along the beach. The cold air blew the smell of salt and moss into my face. I breathed it all in deeply and exhaled with satisfaction the condensation on my breath. I could hear the gulls kawing. A man and his dog were walking along the shore line which stretched away from us maybe 100 feet. When the tide was high,<br> the water would come right up to the edge of where we had parked. Straight off into the distance the loch ran between two green hills and vanished around the corner.\n\nMy wife and I left the car unlocked and headed inside out of the rain and the wind. We were greeted by a polite English lady,<br> the owner of the place. I don\u2019t think I ever caught her name. \u2018Ello,<br> welcome!\u2019 she said,<br> as we closed the door behind us. \u201cHi,<br> John Taylor checking in\u201d. The \u2018lobby\u2019 of the Guest House was somewhat tacky,<br> with green or red tartan carpets and a couple pieces of gaudy furniture. There was a fireplace,<br> and a small bar at one end of the room stocked with all kinds of grog. She checked us off in the book behind the bar and we made some small talk about the trip so far and our drive from Glasgow. She led us out of the lobby and gave a quick tour before showing us to our room.\n\nUp a somewhat steep,<br> carpeted staircase we passed a photo on the wall of their previous guest house in Isle of Skye. We made some small talk about that as well until we got to our room. There were maybe 5 rooms in the guest house,<br> and that suited me just fine as I\u2019m not a big fan of crowds. I never saw another guest in the house except for the restaurant. Our room was much better than expected. Large windows which overlooked the loch,<br> modern furniture and a nice,<br> large and comfy bed. It was also very clean,<br> the cleanest place we stayed in during our time in Scotland. Knowing that we would be in Lochgoilhead for a few days,<br> I wanted to get us a specially nice room for this time,<br> and didn\u2019t mind paying a bit extra for it.\n\nIt was still raining outside,<br> a bit heavier now,<br> but I couldn\u2019t wait. I decided to head back out to locate the cemetery. This cemetery,<br> I was told,<br> was the final resting place of my earliest Scottish ancestors,<br> with a large gravestone memorial built by the children,<br> showing names and dates. I told Tiffany my plans and she said she\u2019d rather stay indoors. After I brought up the luggage from the car,<br> I headed out the back door in my brown jacket which was my most water-repellant (but not quite) piece of clothing for the entire trip.\n\nI discovered something about myself in Scotland. I found that I need,<br> or at least,<br> desire,<br> an escape route\u200a\u2014\u200aa retreat. I need a base of operations,<br> I need a place to run back to in case things get crazy. On the road,<br> I would feel anxious,<br> because we had checked out of one place and were in \u2018no man\u2019s land\u2019. We had left our base of operations,<br> and even though we had an idea of where we were heading,<br> I didn\u2019t know what to expect once we got there. But I found that once I arrived and checked in to our next base,<br> the anxiety totally subsided. I was then free to explore.\n\nI walked from the back door through the parking lot and around to the front of the building facing the loch. There were little tables and benches,<br> uninhabited except for droplets of rain cascading,<br> and a \u2018statue\u2019 of an Otter on the front lawn.\n\nThe path led towards a small metal gate and kept on going,<br> so I opened up the creaky,<br> wet gate and stepped through,<br> closing it behind me.\u00a0\n\nI love the sound of gravel or leaves crunching beneath my feet. I walked slowly along the stony path so that I could feel the wet crunch crunch of each step. The path was relatively well maintained,<br> with bush and flowers on either side for a few paces then it opened up on both sides. On the left there was a house,<br> with an old monument in the front yard. This was an historical artefact from the 1600s,<br> I would later learn. On the right there was a small park and another small path which went out towards the loch and came back around in a semicircle to reconnect further along. There was a little bench,<br> now soaked with water. I too was getting soaked,<br> so I picked up the pace a bit and got to another gate which read \u201ckeep closed\u201d. On the other side was the town.\n\nIt was a town in that there was one post office,<br> some houses,<br> a school,<br> a bait shop and a single restaurant. A police car passed me and headed out towards the post office,<br> but turned up into a neighbourhood and disappeared. From where I was standing I could see the sign for the church to my left,<br> so I headed straight there. The rest of the town could wait for a drier hour.\n\nIt was then about 3 o\u2019clock,<br> if memory serves,<br> but a bit overcast. The directional lighting was casting a shadow on the hills overlooking the town and reflecting in the water.\n\nI got to the gate of the church but it was shut. \u2018Nobody in sight\u2019 I thought to myself after looking around a bit. I wasn\u2019t about to let my own sense of propriety stop me at this point. Maybe if I were back home,<br> but not if it was something I really wanted to do. I took the chain off the gate and unlatched it. A spring on the gate caused it to slowly open inwards. I caught it and went inside,<br> closing it behind me.\n\nThe Church,<br> a small stone building,<br> was not unlike the Churches back home. It was a little bit run-down,<br> and there was gravel in a pile on the side of the path which I followed around to the back where the graves were. I sloshed through the wet grass,<br> it stuck to my shoes and pants as it had been recently mowed. I stood in the graveyard looking around in silence,<br> my face and hair wet,<br> cold,<br> condensation on my breath. I looked around and felt the familiar presence of the past around me. It was quiet,<br> but not eerily so. A peaceful quiet. The silence was wet with the rain,<br> and it was dripping with sentiment. I tried to listen to what secrets the little birds of the graveyard might tell. After a few minutes I hurried back to the Shore House and had a warm shower,<br> leaving my clothes to dry in the open window. I didn\u2019t find the gravestone I was looking for.\n\nIt was lunch time. We made our way back down the steep staircase and into the restaurant. It was mostly empty,<br> just one family was sitting for a meal. The room was light,<br> with large glass panels on three sides overlooking the Loch Goil,<br> and there was a bar and kitchen on the side that had none. We were put to sit right against one of the front glass panels,<br> and I took some pictures. The owner of the place brought us the menus,<br> full of delicious sounding dishes. Tiffany had herself a pint of lager and I had some Coke,<br> most likely.\u00a0\n\nI ordered the Guinness Steak Pie,<br> and it was possibly one of the best dishes I\u2019ve ever had at a restaurant. It was steaming hot,<br> and the beef was soft. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. I\u2019d never eaten Guinness Steak Pie before,<br> and haven\u2019t found it again since! I don\u2019t remember what Tiffany had for lunch,<br> I was so focused on my own plate. I sent my compliments to the chef.\n\nhttps:\/\/i.imgsafe.org\/eb6f25c252.jpg\n\nWe had come to Lochgoilhead with the plan to meet up with George and Mary Campbell,<br> and his daughter Wendy. We were to head over to Drimsynie to see them,<br> which was on the other side of the gently flowing river. Drimsynie is more of the tourist destination. The majority of the land in Lochgoilhead seems to be part of Drimsynie Estate,<br> which spatters the Western side of the Loch with affordable,<br> luxury homes which are more like little wooden cabins,<br> all green rectangles. George et al were staying in the Hotel,<br> which was adjoined to the Great House as we would call in Barbados. The Plantation Owner\u2019s house. The \u201cMassa\u2019s\u201d house. It was fairly fitting,<br> because this particular Plantation Owner was a foreigner who had bought up much of the land to build room for other foreigners to pay good money to stay indoors watching television and eat until their hearts and money-books gave out.\n\nAfter lunch we put on our jackets and sweaters to walk over to Drimsynie to meet the others. The cool air,<br> despite swarming with midges,<br> and the wet crunchy gravel path beneath our feet,<br> made the short walk very pleasant. We walked along the path which led to a wide wooden bridge,<br> stopping for a few moments to watch that gently flowing river carry little fallen leaves into Loch Goil. The river was very shallow exposing mossy rocks along the shoreline and larger stones diverting water in the softly swirling river.\n\nPassing little cottages and holiday homes,<br> we walked up a steady incline to Drimysnie Hotel and called George & Mary who came out and greeted us in their usual warm manner.\n\nGeorge smiled,<br> lifting his arms towards us \u2018Hey!\u2019\n\n\u2018Hey George,<br> how\u2019s it going?\u2019 I said\n\n\u2018Well,<br> we just got back from our walk. The guy took us all up over those hills there\u2019 he pointed off in the distance retracing the path that they took \u2018I thought I was going to die,<br> but we all made it out okay!\u2019. We all laughed. His accent still had hints of his Trinidadian upbringing.\n\nI first met George and Mary when they came to visit in Barbados after I found George online and spoke to him on the phone. A lovely bunch of people,<br> and George in particular is a kind and gentle man with a fun,<br> mischievous streak in him. He had a tendency to feign ignorance so that he could break the rules. For example,<br> he clearly saw the sign \u2018No walking on the grass\u2019 at the Campbell Castle in Inveraray,<br> but I watched him pass the sign and walk right onto the grass,<br> in full view of the gardener,<br> who reprimanded him and ask that he not walk on the grass. \u201cOops!\u201d he would say,<br> and shrug his shoulders while skipping away with a smirk,<br> and the satisfaction of having gotten away with it.\n\nGeorge had been a sickly child. He was sent to his aunt\u2019s on the coast of Trinidad so that he could have the good salt air in his lungs. Our family has a tendency of removing themselves as far as they can from the rest,<br> and when George was old enough,<br> he left Trinidad for the United States and went under the radar for 40 years until someone managed to find him. My Uncle is like that. He is in the U.S,<br> but we\u2019re not sure where. Every now and then we hear from him. My wife also has that elusive Uncle who,<br> we\u2019ve heard,<br> lived on a houseboat along some river in Europe.\n\nGeorge is a warm,<br> kind hearted man. I often had to strain to hear him,<br> because he is so soft-spoken. He and his wife actually paid for our tickets to Scotland. After we discovered that we wouldn\u2019t to be able to go due to finances,<br> they offered to pay. We thanked them over and over,<br> of course,<br> and bought them a bottle of rum which we had engraved \u201cGeorge & Mary. Scotland 2012. Thanks for the trip!\u201d\n\nHe is my grandfather\u2019s 1st cousin,<br> but they never met in person. I have adopted him as an honorary Grandfather,<br> since he has been the only one to even begin to play that role in my life. Both of my grandfathers died before I was born,<br> so I\u2019ve never had the \u2018Grandfather\u2019 experience. Both of them were mean alcoholics. I\u2019m sure that there were some redeeming qualities to them,<br> but I\u2019ve not found many so far. I\u2019ve had to look further back to find my idealised wise old weathered sage Grandfather figure in Duncan,<br> and pick and choose living Grandfather-aged men who can fill that void.\n\n\u201cSo what do you guys want to do now\u201d I asked. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to take a walk along the shoreline to find the little village of Corrow where our common ancestor came from.\u00a0\n\nFrom Drimsynie with the loch to our left,<br> we walked along the single-track paved road which headed south towards Carrick Castle. It was a cool afternoon and the ground and air were wet with drizzle. We passed some dewy sheep that didn\u2019t seem to notice our presence or at least wouldn\u2019t acknowledge it.\n\nReaching the place,<br> I was confused by the sign which read \u2018Drimsynie Office Estate\u2019. Since there was a woman who was walking the opposite direction,<br> I stopped to ask if it was the right place.\u00a0\n\n\u201cHi,<br> excuse me,<br> are you from around here?\u201d\n\nShe looked a little worn out and also a little distrustful of strangers.\n\n\u201cYes..\u201d she answered,<br> looking a bit put-off.\n\n\u201cAh,<br> we\u2019re looking for a place called \u2018Corrow\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThae\u2019s Corrow\u201d she said,<br> and nodded her head towards a cluster of buildings just behind us.\n\n\u201cAh okay! Thank you!\u201d I laughed.\n\nShe then walked into Corrow herself,<br> but I didn\u2019t want to bother her with any more questions.\n\nIt was just a few stone buildings which looked like old store barns that had been converted into offices or houses. There were cars parked outside.\n\nI had the impression that I was standing on a patch of Earth where my ancestors once stood,<br> where their children were born,<br> including my great,<br> great,<br> great grandfather. Who knows,<br> perhaps those apathetic sheep were distant relatives of my own ancestor\u2019s flock. I\u2019m sure there was some family resemblance.\n\nJust beyond Corrow there was a bridge and a small river flowing underneath. Scotland is full of these. We stood around there for a few minutes before heading back to Drimsynie. We joked with George about how much walking he had to do this trip and he was a good sport about it all. He is a good sport about pretty much everything.\u00a0\n\nThe next day we all got into their rental car and Wendy drove us over to Inveraray\u200a\u2014\u200ato the Campbell of Argyll castle. It was bright and sunny outside,<br> with blue skies hiding behind white floating clouds. The temperature was still quite cool,<br> compared to Barbados at least,<br> so it was a pleasure to be outside. There was a large grassy paddock with both white,<br> and black sheep. I went over to have some words with them and take their portraits.\n\nIt was a fair time,<br> and I bought myself a bottle of Scotch signed by the Duke of Argyll himself,<br> but I couldn\u2019t help remembering that these were not \u2018my people\u2019. My people were back in Lochgoilhead. They would have been hard working,<br> tending sheep,<br> eking out a living and sending their taxes to these feudal lairds. I did not feel at home in the Argyll mansion. It was like a museum,<br> and of course beautiful and interesting historically,<br> but no personal nostalgia for me. I felt at home in Lochgoilhead. George asked if the Duke was at home,<br> but we were told he was away.\n\n**What is the purpose of these aristocrats anyway,<br> in our day and age.**\n\nSome people have these grand thoughts,<br> that they are connected to the great Clan Campbell,<br> and they may think of the Duke of Argyll like a distant cousin. I am much happier knowing that my ancestors were poor country folk.\n\n## *I wish I could stick my head into the past,<br> like parting leaves in a bush,<br> and watch them tending their farm. I would like to see their character and what jokes they told,<br> if they had time for jokes. I\u2019d be interested to know what they did when all the work was done,<br> what their thoughts were like when they put their head down to sleep. Maybe it would tell me something about my own thoughts.*\n\nOn the way back to Lochgoilhead we made a quick stop in Arrochar. Duncan was born here. It was much the same as Lochgoilhead,<br> with more trees and less marketed for tourism. We found the Arrochar Cemetery and went inside,<br> only to be chased away by the ghastly midges within 10 minutes. Despite the midges,<br> it was still beautiful. Old tombstones wrapped in ivy,<br> red-leafed trees slowly dipping in the breeze. The shy sun hid behind clouds leaving shadows on the mountains and on the water. The grass was still wet. The grass in Scotland was perpetually wet.\n\nUpon arriving in Lochgoilhead we were met by a short,<br> friendly lady named Dorothy,<br> in her mid 60s. I smiled,<br> because I had been in contact with her by email for some months before and now we finally meet. Standing alongside was her more reserved sister,<br> Margaret,<br> who was new to me. They had been waiting for us in the parking lot of the Shore House and after we had crunched our way over the gravel she threw her hands up in the air and put her hip out to one side showing her excitement at our arrival.\n\nDorothy she knew Lochgoilhead. I recall her saying that her family had visited Lochgoilhead before,<br> and perhaps it has been a place of \u2018our people\u2019 for a long time. She told me that her grandmother had told the story of a great uncle Duncan who left Scotland for Trinidad. Dorothy knew her Scottish family was from Lochgoilhead and had been actively searching for Duncan\u2019s descendants. We found each other,<br> and through the journals confirmed that my Duncan and her Duncan were the same person. He mentions his father,<br> Peter,<br> from Lochgoilhead,<br> his brothers Martin and John. It was exciting for the both of us to make the connection.\n\nWe had arranged for her to meet us there after our morning trip to Inveraray,<br> and we had been running a little late. I spoke to her on the phone while we were still there,<br> and she assured me that it was fine,<br> that they would just go for a quick walk.\n\nIntroductions were made,<br> and I gave them both hugs. We talked for a while on the front lawn of the Shore House,<br> despite the nagging midges. George\u2019s wife Mary was in a perpetual loop of swatting,<br> removing glasses,<br> swatting,<br> replacing glasses,<br> swatting.\n\n\u201cYou eventually get used to them\u201d Dorothy said. I could see them crawling on her neck and her face. She had a round,<br> wrinkled face crowned with short brown curly hair with a serving of grey.\n\nDorothy presented me with two gifts,<br> which I opened in front of her for her satisfaction. They were two books on Lochgoilhead,<br> which really pleased me and I thanked her. She shared my enthusiasm for the place.\n\nWith that,<br> I left them on the bench outside to fetch our gift to her,<br> a glass jar of Barbados sugar from St. Nicholas Abbey.\n\n\u201cOh lovely,<br> we shall have to have some tea with this when we get back!\u201d she said.\n\nAfter a lull in the conversation she looked at me with her hands clasped together and said \u201cRight! Would you like to see the gravestone?\u201d. She had a British accent,<br> despite her living in Orkney for many years.\n\nI led the charge through the path which led towards the centre of the town,<br> and made the left to the cemetery. Dorothy took us right up to the Campbell tombstone and there we stood talking by the gravestone and taking pictures for a while. It was a little chilly out that afternoon,<br> and breezy.\n\nI put my hand on the gravestone and was transported to another time in my mind. I imagined my kin gathered around this monument 150 years earlier. How different this place must have been.\u00a0\n\nhttps:\/\/i.imgsafe.org\/eb6f021537.jpg\n\n\u201cHave you all had any lunch as yet?\u201d asked Dorothy.\n\nAfter a mediocre lunch and a couple pints at the Lochgoilhead Hotel it was time to say goodbye to Dorothy and Margaret. George seemed to have a good time speaking with both of them,<br> and they exchanged contact information. We said goodbye the same place we said hello,<br> in the stony parking lot of the Shore House. I\u2019d enjoyed catching up with Dorothy in person.\n\nShe explained to me that as children their parents had brought them to Lochgoilhead on holiday,<br> it seemed to be a Campbell pilgrimage for them as well. It was a special place,<br> but they didn\u2019t know its significance back then. Their parents may not have either. Duncan mentioned in his journal that he knew Lochgoilhead well,<br> and went back to visit it while he was in Scotland. At the time,<br> he may not have had any living relatives there. He mentions that his father was born there,<br> and that he had spent much time there as a child. I like to think he was doing the same thing as us. A little sentimental,<br> he too was trying to stick his head into the past. Dorothy said that Scots have a tendency towards sentimentalism. I believe it,<br> for the most part.\u00a0\n\nDuncan was a sentimental man,<br> not a lover of folly,<br> but a contemplative man. This doesn\u2019t mean he was boring. He enjoyed a game of Whist with the boys,<br> and his drink of choice was Scotch and water. He wrote poetry,<br> and enjoyed going to the theatre. A man of seemingly high moral character,<br> yet not one to be unquestioning. He had his own opinions on things,<br> like the Church,<br> and Science. A Master Mason,<br> he spoke often about Nature. He comes across as a kind of hopeful deist,<br> with a spark of faith mixed with logic and reason.\u00a0\n\nWhen Dorothy and Margaret left we got into the car again and headed down to Carrick Castle,<br> which is situated to the south of the town,<br> on the western side of the Loch. The name would suggest some large fortress but it really looks like an old store house or barn. It is an historically significant place to the Campbell lairds,<br> apparently. Carrick Castle had some personal significance as well. We were told that Tiffany\u2019s father was named after Carrick Castle,<br> but they changed the C to a G and named him Garrick instead. I\u2019m not sure I believe that anecdote,<br> but it\u2019s fun anyway.\n\nIt was now afternoon,<br> and the sun was shining happily from the West and the dewy grass was glistening and in the distance I could see goats or sheep up in the mountains. A chorus of birds went fluttering in and out of the holes and cracks in the old building. The clean cool air blowing off the water caused us to tighten our jackets just a little bit and put hands in pockets. I couldn\u2019t afford that luxury because I was holding the camera,<br> and was obsessively taking photos of everything around. It was such a beautiful day with beautiful lighting. We stood for a group photo in front the \u2018castle\u2019.\n\nhttps:\/\/i.imgsafe.org\/eb6f234888.jpg\n\nLater that evening we sat down to have dinner over at Drimsynie with George,<br> Mary and Wendy. Inside the main building at Drimsynie was set up like how you would expect a Radisson or Holiday Inn,<br> fairly standard. The walls were dark stained wood and it was carpeted throughout. From our table I watched children playing in the huge jungle gym across the hall from the restaurant. The place was obviously an inclusive holiday package for families with children,<br> and they never had to go outside if they didn\u2019t want to. I was so glad that we stayed where we did. It was perfect.\n\nI don\u2019t remember what I had to eat for dinner,<br> it must not have been too memorable. Perhaps every meal since has been shadowed by my delicious Guinness Steak Pie. We sat and talked for a couple hours and had a few pints between us all. I may have had a half pint,<br> because I very rarely drink. Mary enjoyed drinking straight Whisky,<br> which surprised me because she was a fairly shy lady,<br> but then\u200a\u2014\u200ashe is Irish,<br> after all!. After dinner we said our goodbyes and gave our hugs and well-wishes because this was the final goodbye before they left Lochgoilhead to go over to Ireland. It was sad to see them go,<br> we had such a great time with them.\u00a0\n\nBefore Lochgoilhead we had been in Glasgow together for a couple days. At the same time it was nice to then be on our own in Lochgoilhead. Quiet,<br> nothing to do,<br> no plans,<br> just me and Tiffany and the loch and my ancestor\u2019s footsteps to trace.\n\nI slept well in Lochgoilhead. It was so peaceful to lay my head down on the soft pillow,<br> underneath cool sheets,<br> looking out over the Loch. The smell of the salt and the moss still lingered. It wasn\u2019t an unpleasant smell by any means,<br> but distinct.\u00a0\n\nThe next morning we woke and had our breakfast downstairs in the restaurant. We were the only ones there. A couple fried eggs,<br> bacon,<br> tomato,<br> baked beans and toast. Very pleasant.\n\nIt was another bright and sunny day in Lochgoilhead,<br> the tide was low and there were birds pecking the ground along the shore line. Talking briefly over breakfast about what we\u2019d like to do that day,<br> we decided to just take a walk around the little town and see what was there. After breakfast we crunch crunched over the pathway into the village. The wind was blowing harder today than before,<br> but it was still pleasant and refreshing.\n\nA metal handrail ran from one side of the town to the other along a concrete path. Following the path took you past a bus stop and over to the pier. On this particular day there were school children gathering with their teacher to go kayaking. They were lining up,<br> boys on one side and girls on the other. I noticed that one of the girls was much bigger than the others and wondered if she was picked on for it.\u00a0\n\nNext to the pier is the fish & tackle shop,<br> which was closed. I was disappointed that it was closed because I had planned to rent a boat and go fishing at least once. I spoke with the man behind the counter in the post office and he told me that Mr. Murray had recently had an operation and the tackle shop would be closed for the time being. He was a short man with thick glasses and a slight underbite. His accent was quite dense but he didn\u2019t seem to speak any more than he had to. It was as though he didn\u2019t really like dealing with people or maybe with foreigners or at least not on that day. I asked him if there was anywhere else that we could rent a boat.\n\n\u201cnaye,<br> there isn\u2019t I\u2019m afrid.\u201d he said.\n\nI checked online and it wasn\u2019t true. Perhaps Mr. Post-Office Man just didn\u2019t feel like saying more than a few words at a time. There was another place to rent boats closer to Carrick Castle,<br> so we decided to go out there later in the day.\n\nIn the meantime,<br> we continued our walk. On both sides of Lochgoilhead are steep grassy hills,<br> and on the town-side there is a path that you can take almost all the way to the top. We set off in the cool of the morning,<br> passing over cattle grates which kept the sheep from wandering off,<br> and heading up into the heathery hills. Ever so often we would stop and look back at Loch Goil,<br> which was more beautiful from above as it was from sea level. I don\u2019t remember how long we were walking,<br> maybe an hour or two.\n\nhttps:\/\/i.imgsafe.org\/eb6ef37feb.jpg\n\nAt one point we passed by a large grey boulder which jutted out like a precipice from the face of the hill. I stood at the very edge and looked over. Would have been a pretty nasty fall,<br> and Tiffany was nervous for me. I looked out from my vantage point over the town and the lake and the green sloping hills dotted with purple heather,<br> and Tiffany snapped a picture of that moment. I look relaxed,<br> contemplative,<br> peaceful. I think I really was.\n\nhttps:\/\/i.imgsafe.org\/eb8119b05b.jpg\n\nBack at the Shore House we had some lunch then made our way to Lochgoilhead Cruisers boat rental. Pulling into the place,<br> I saw a man working on an engine or some kind of machinery. He came over and we let him know that we were interested in renting a boat for fishing. His hands were covered with oil.\n\n\u201cYou can drive a car? It is just like driving a car with a steering wheel,<br> easy!\u201d\n\nThe boat was the equivalent of a \u2018put-put\u2019 car on land. It was not very powerful,<br> which was totally understandable given the absence of worry the man displayed when renting it to us. It had a small kind of open-backed cabin with a roof to cover the console which was a steering wheel and throttle. We were given a map with some X\u2019s on it,<br> with instructions \u201cdon\u2019t go here,<br> here or here,<br> it\u2019s too shallow\u201d then the man pushed the boat away from the pier with his foot and then we were off!\n\nhttps:\/\/i.imgsafe.org\/eb6f050a9c.jpg\n\nBy the afternoon the wind had died down substantially,<br> there was a moment when the sun was shining brightly overhead and the loch was completely flat. We crept out towards Carrick Castle at full speed ahead,<br> then stopped to cast the lures a few times. It was fun to watch Tiffany cast clumsily,<br> but she got better with a little practice. There were seals sunbathing on a stony beach. We passed Cormonochan,<br> which is the area of the Loch that my great,<br> great,<br> great,<br> great grandfather was listed as being \u2018fisher\u2019 in 1807. That was a fairly sentimental thing,<br> to be able to go fishing in the same place my ancestor made his own living as a fisherman. We stopped off Carrick Castle in the brilliant warm sunlight and the lake was like a mirror for the sky. Restless birds still chirping and fluttering around the building.\n\nhttps:\/\/i.imgsafe.org\/eb6ef48559.jpg\n\nTime was getting on,<br> so we thought we should start heading back as it would take us half hour to get there with this slow boat. I said \u2018let\u2019s just make one pass over here and see if anything happens,<br> then we\u2019ll head back\u2019\n\nWe had been casting and reeling back in the whole time,<br> so I decided that this pass we should do some trolling so set the line out and pulled it slowly around the Carrick Castle area,<br> and when the rod tip bent down Tiffany started yelling \u2018Something is on it something is on it!\u201d. Pulling down the throttle to an even slower creep I shouted \u201creel then!\u201d\n\nShe wanted to hand it off to me but I wanted her to do it herself.\n\nSo she reeled and reeled,<br> and after not much of a fight came a mackerel,<br> which I dropped into the bucket. The lure popped right out of its mouth once in the boat. Tiffany was laughing and I cheered for her. \u201cI caauught a fiiiish\u201d she sang.\n\nWe took the Mackerel back to the Shore House and they cleaned and cooked it up for us for dinner.\u00a0\n\nOn our last day in Lochgoilhead we made a trip over to a little town nearby named Callander. A very cozy little town with yet another river running through it. We went into a little antique shop and I bought myself a Sgian Dubh which I was told was made by a local who had recently died. The Sgian Dubh is small knife which is part of traditional Scottish dress. It literally means \u201chidden blade\u201d. We went into a used book store to look around. So many interesting looking books. I had been looking for a Gaidhlig bible. There was a gigantic man with long grey beard and hair,<br> I smelt him before I saw him. He and,<br> I assume,<br> his wife were lifting and carrying boxes from the back room to some other part of the place. His accent was very thick and I could hardly understand him. He looked like he stepped out a novel himself. Asking about the bible,<br> he took me over to the religious books section but said they were very hard to find nowadays. We ended up buying a book from 1942 called \u201cThe Story of Scotland\u201d. Somebody had highlighted this line:\n\n### *\u201cA prominent trait of Scottish character is nostalgia,<br> which in various ways is a reaction to the beauty of the country\u201d*\n\nThat\u2019s how I felt about our time in Scotland,<br> especially in Lochgoilhead. I wrote in my own journal that there was a magic in Lochgoilhead,<br> and I had been enchanted by it.\u00a0\n\nLeaving Lochgoilhead was bittersweet. There was more of Scotland to explore,<br> but a piece of me remains there on the shores of Loch Goil,<br> and one day I will go back to reclaim it. If I cannot,<br> I will send another,<br> somewhere in our future,<br> to find it for me. It would be much the same as what Duncan left for me in Lochgoilhead,<br> a fleeting glimpse into the past,<br> and the secrets of little graveyard birds in the shadows of the glowing hills.\n\nhttps:\/\/i.imgsafe.org\/eb6f300ca3.jpg",<br>"json_metadata":" \"tags\":[\"travel\",<br>\"writing\" " |
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