September 2015

My flight left late on Thursday night from Frankfurt Hahn, my younger daughter brought me to the airport (thank you!). Arrival in Edinburgh was late, after 10 p.m., already dark, my rental car was not as expected to be picked up at the rental car center on the airport, but about a mile outside, I had to look for a shuttle bus to get me there. Fortunately, there still was one that late. It was almost half past 11 until I finally got my car, it was a little Nissan Mute, with GPS and automatic gear as ordered, perfect for my purposes. It’s just easier, not to need to switch gears with the unaccustomed left hand and getting slowly used to the strange car and driving on the left side of the road. Filled in the post code for the Youth Hotel in Edinburg and got started.

My car’s tank was empty and I needed a gas station first. Driving time into the city was about 30 minutes and so it was after midnight when I searched a parking near the Youth Hostel. It’s on a main street crossroad with no parking space of its own, there are only a few spaces along the road where I can leave my car until 8 in the morning. Ok, this will do, I want to leave early anyway. By the way, you always should let your hotel know that you’ll be that late, otherwise they might cancel your reservation. I chose a cheap option with a six-bed room because my night would be short anyway and I didn’t want to pay for an expensive room without really making use of it. There were 3 bunk beds inside and there was somebody already sleeping in the lower one by the window. Another bunk bed was occupied by some people’s stuff and I chose the lower bed of the free one since I didn’t want to sleep upside. Unfortunately, the women sleeping was lying in front of the half open window and it was getting colder through the night. I slept full dressed and still froze, not really some good sleep that night.

I checked my route for the day once more on breakfast, then I programmed my GPS and started driving carefully through the morning rush hour in Edinburgh. You know, it’s not just about the rush hour, it’s about left-hand traffic, but pretty soon I got used to it. It helped following other cars in front of me and to keep saying, while approaching a crossroad or a roundabout: to le left, Daniela, to the left! My main direction for the day was Eilean Donan Castle in the high northwest, but my first goal of the day was Castle Doune which stood for Castle Leoch.  On my way, I found two huge metal horses standing next to the motorway at Falkirk. A while later, I found out these are named the „Kelpies“, about 30 meters high, standing in a park, right and left of a canal guarding the water as „water sprites“ usually do.

It’s not really far to Castle Doune, it’s pretty close to a main road and well marked with signs. The car park was quite small and not at all sufficient on crowdy days, but I found a shady space. The outside looked pretty much how we know it as 18th century from TV, they also made lots of outside shots here. You can walk all around the castle, just next to the high and impressive walls.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have time for a complete tour through, I just looked at it from outside and in the souvenir shop. Here and in almost any other Scottish castle that I visited, I could find Outlander stuff in the shops, books as well as fan items, shawls, shirts and many, many more.

On it went on the A84, A85 and A82 to the northwest and each time I had a beautiful view and a possibility, I made a short stop to look around. While doing this, I discovered my first highland cows next to a bus full with tourists from Australia. Oh my, they had a long journey!

I drove more and more to the northwest, passing many smaller and bigger lochs, I had the impression there was always some water somewhere next to me and on my way, I found the Falls of Killin

Drove over a pass near Beinn Dorain with view onto Loch Tulia

And then to Fort William. Yes, I’m aware this has nothing to do with “Fort William” from the series, but I think Diana Gabaldon just found that name while writing. But besides, Fort William is a very special town, located directly on that tectonic rift that’s going aslant through Scotland and looks from above as if the northern part had been glued to the southern with some kind of bad glue. Thus, there is a chain of Lochs from Moray Firth via Loch Ness, Loch Lochy, Loch Linnhe down to Firth of Lorn, connected by the Caledonial Canal. Fort William is almost on sea level und still it’s next to Ben Nevis, which is with 1344 meters not only the highest mountain of Scotland, but of all Great Britain. So, it’s a good climb upwards and there’s no road or aerial ropeway to make it easier. You can climb it only by foot. Let’s see if can manage it in this life!

On another pass with a car park on the A87 above Loch Garry, there were countless little men of small stones, as far as I could look and I was speechless, such as a young couple from Australia next to me.

Along the A87, the landscape was getting rough and bigger. There were not many trees anymore and it was rockier. Sometimes, there were small side roads like this one with the small, hoary bridge as you can see many of them in Scotland.

After a while, there were no villages anymore, just a lonely house now and then, just turns, landscape and repeatedly waterfalls to my right and left. It takes mile after mile, turn after turn, it’s a little hazy and dull, the only wee bit of rain that I would have in 5 days, until, suddenly, the landscape opens after another turn to Loch Duich and gets very wide. The same moment, the sun comes out, warm and bright, a very magic moment, the landscape looks enchanted and I’m deeply impressed and moved.

Now it was but a short way to finally reach Eilean Donan Castle near Dornie. Most pics that I know show the Castle in the water, for obvious reasons. When I reached the Castle, it was low tide and there was some strong smell of sea and seaweed. It was already about 4 p.m. and open only until 5 p.m. There were no guided tours, but you could walk all over, there were sign posts and supervisory staff whom you could ask. The castle is completely furnished as if people were still living there. There are also some figures to illustrate the location and even the kitchen is equipped with kitchenware, cutlery and artificial food. This visit is worth it and can easily be done within one hour.

I drove a little further along to road until I reached the big bridge to the Isle of Skye, but this time I didn’t have enough time to go there (please see 2016 and 2017) because I wanted to reach Inverness that very day. Now I had to go all the long, endlessly curvy way back again until I got to the crossroads of A87/A887 to Invermorriston and I stopped spontaneously to take a hitchhiker with backpack with me. First, I had to clear the passenger seat which usually holds handy everything that I (might) need while driving, mobile, food, paperwork, purse, some water in the footwell, everything had to be removed let Denis get in. He was a student from Skye on his way back to university in Inverness. Alas, he didn’t speak Gaelic as I had wished to use some of my small vocabulary on him. But it was nice to have another person with me for a while. We passed Loch Ness where I stopped to take a picture and reached the city center of Inverness where he got out.

I checked out and left the car park eastern and found myself in front of a car approaching on my side, honking, when I finally remembered… oops, I was on the wrong side of the street. To Clava Cairns, it was only a few miles, it immediately after the junction to Culloden, about 1 km further a small road to the right, in a copse. It was very early in the morning, the sun hadn’t fought through the morning fog yet and I was all alone on a clearing hosting three round stone collections, surrounded by stone circles. If you get aware that these stones are more than 3000 years old, you really get respectful. There’s an opening to the pile of stones about 1 meter wide with an extended opening in the middle. Nobody knows for sure what these buildings really meant to the men who built them. A magic place with a really specific atmosphere.

I drove one km back, to Cullodon Moor eventually, gave the visitor center only a short view, I’m attracted by the field outside. There are some paths leading over the high plateau and I first go to the big stone column that we already know from Outlander (even if they did not shoot there!), then I find the small stones that have been set for each clan, as we do know. I laid down flowers to the stones for Clan Fraser, Clan MaxKenzie but also to that for the English soldiers. My respect for the place is big because I know, it’s nothing but a big graveyard and you feel that.

There’s small cottage on my way out that really looks like the one where the Jacobite soldiers sought shelter after the battle.

Another house owned a huge weaving loom, occupying about half of the base area. In a free space between the houses, they started a fire with a kettle hanging from a tripod, someone stirring in it diligently. In another building next to this there was a big wood working lathe like those I know from medieval festivals. In a short conversation with the man working on it I found out that he’s from Schwäbisch Hall, Germany and moved over for love. Not the last German emigrant whom I would meet.
It’s an extremely nice group of people getting bigger and bigger with every minute. I got offered so many things, from Outlander fan stuff for little money to homemade food and made the acquaintance of tablet which is sweet fondant baked flatly on a baking tray and cut into small pieces. There were also two big packages with t-shirts that came somehow and for granted from Amazon and I gratefully chose two of them. I would have liked so much to stay a little longer with these nice people, but – unfortunately? – I was heading for the Highland Games at Braemar, located in the highland mountains next to Balmoral Castle and those had started already in the morning. So, I wistfully took my leave from the girls because I was up to something I had been looking forward to for long – Tossing the caber! Balmoral wouldn’t have been worth going since it was September and this meant it was the Queen’s annual two-month holiday, the castle would be closed and the surroundings blocked. Not that bad. I already know I’d be back one day.

That was not so comfortable since the distance was far, more than two hours, but when I booked the hotel, I didn’t have any route yet and didn’t know when and where I would be. This was the short prep time taking revenge. It’s really an advantage to pre-book hotels, but even if you work out your driving route in detail, there are still unforeseen things to happen ready to crash your plans.
Braemar is located on a two-way road only and since I didn’t want to drive all the way back I came in the morning, I took the other direction leading into to mountain. These mountains, unlike the others, were blank hills first, with small rivers and green grass, but soon getting higher and higher, leading to a ski resort and finally back downhill, on sheer endless roads with some outrageous turns, only very few cars on the road, all of them in my direction in an incredible speed, southern towards Blairgowrie and Perth.

Back in Edinburgh, I looked for my Hotel, the Frederick House Hotel, located on Frederick Street and George Street, in a very beautiful old district with houses built of brown sandstone. There was no car park to the hotel, but I found a space on the main road where parking was free until 8 a.m., like the other day at the hostel, so this was fine for me. When checking in, this was the next surprise since the nice woman at the reception was from Germany, from Hamburg if I’m right, and she also moved over to Scotland on account of love. This hotel was a very old building, beautifully refurbished and decorated old-fashioned and manorial.

After getting redressed, my stomach was almost down to my knees, breakfast had been long ago and the day quite long. I asked Stefanie at the reception for a restaurant recommendation and she sent me to Fisher’s in der Thistle  Street. A very good advice, I must say.

So far, this had already been an almost perfect day, meeting lovely Outlander fans on a shooting place on the very day they were having their gathering there, been on Highland games with tossing capers in the afternoon and meeting Her Majesty the Queen herself, even if from a distance, so I was planning on having some nice diner, fixing my plans for the next day and then going for a sound sleep since I would have to get up early again to avoid the risk of a parking ticket. Fisher’s was a good mid-class hotel and quite busy, it was already dinner time. I had, of course, made no reservation, but I was alone and hoped for a small space somewhere. I must admit, I’m a little larger than average and I was almost afraid to be declined, but then they showed me to a chair at the bar. The chair was just a little high, but with some climbing I made it on top and the space was perfect, nice and bright, with a good view on the street and the entrance and always something going on. The menu was mostly about fish as expected, the prices still acceptable, so I ordered a soup and a mixed fish platter. There were always two or three waiters around, so I was well taken care of. After eating the soup, I had some time and I helped myself with my list of destinations and my maps of Scotland in order to find out the best driving route for the next day. I had the road map an the one from VisitScotland.com, where most of the shooting places known so war were displayed and explained (Please note: Until then, only season 1 had aired, meanwhile they have a more elaborate map on their site), which had a brown rim. One of the waiters saw it and said something like “what happened to your map? Have you poured your tea about it?” and I explained – once more – what it was about me and, to my utmost astonishment, he told me one of his colleagues had been an extra in Outlander and was working tonight, currently too busy, but he’d come over later...
What??? How could that possibly be? I mean, studios were in Cumbernauld, next to Glasgow, but I was in Edinburgh, walking into the probably only Restaurant with an Outlander extra working on that very evening? This was probably almost as rare as winning the lottery jackpot.

And it happened as promised. The young man – Graham – who introduced himself an hour later with a wild beard, I wouldn’t have recognized him in no way. He told me quite a lot (he was allowed to) and unfortunately nothing he wasn’t allowed to, however, this was quite much. He had been the scribbler (in the penultimate episode season 1) of the English soldiers, when the condemned were to hang – without his beard then. And on the witch trial, he was on of the Scots sitting in the crowd and screaming “burn’em” – with beard. For most of the shooting places, he didn’t know their exact location because actors usually were driven there by minivan, but he could e.g. give me the advice for Tibbermore Church, that wasn’t easily to be found online those days. Gratefully, I said goodbye to Graham and to one of the most striking days in my life.

The next morning, I couldn’t help myself but visiting the industrial zone nearby where the studios are, knowing that there was no chance to go in, of course. Nobody was to be seen outside either, but I couldn’t leave the place without taking a picture for the very least.

I proceeded to Glasgow going to George Square, where the wedding of Claire and Frank had been shot. It was quite easy to find a parking on the side of a main road leading to city centre, only 2 or 3 blocks from George Square but I had to wait there until 9 a.m. when parking would be permitted, I couldn’t even pull a ticket at the pay station earlier. With my cell phone GPS, I headed to the famous and huge place which is well worth visiting, including many monument, statues, trees and flowers, full with people and cars around on the many side roads, but I soon recognized that they couldn’t have shot here as in TV, the scene took place in a “normal” road with buildings to the left and right and not on an open square like this. So, I started wandering systematically around the square, looking into all the side roads and asking people in the shops, thinking that if they had shot here nearby, somebody must remember.

But no luck, nobody did know anything. Meanwhile, my one-hour parking time was almost over, so I went to the restrooms in a shopping centre and back to my car in order to avoid a parking ticket that could be painfully expensive as I remembered from my visit to England a few weeks earlier, I didn’t need this once again. On my way back, I met a guided tour that was about to start and asked the tour guide thinking he must know this – but again, no, Outlander? What’s that meant to be??? Almost unbelievable, but the series hadn’t aired in Scotland yet, unfortunately.
Quite discouraged, I proceeded to my car and – what can I say? Two blocks east from George Square, which I had absolutely overseen on my way, there it was: John Street. In my mind, I cursed the advising internet sites and was relieved in the same time since I eventually found it! Parking time was clearly over then, but nothing had happened, fortunately.

Now I took my way to the wild landscape northern of Glasgow, looking for Finnich Glen next to Killearn, where they had shot the scene with Dougal and Claire down by St. Ninians spring. This was going to be the most exhausting part of my trip but I couldn’t know this before, of course, otherwise I would have skipped it but this would’ve been too sad. Afterwards, one is wiser, mostly...
When my GPS told me “you have reached your destination” (meanwhile, I know better, the post code was not correct), there was nothing to be seen, no sign, nothing. I searched around the crossroads, asked a few people living there, but nobody could help me although we were less than 1 km from the place. The last woman I asked sent me back to the T-crossroads to leave my car there, “they always do so” and told me to climb over the fence, cross the sheep run and down to the river. Parking was no problem; the crossroads was extremely large and there already were a few other cars. With a somehow bad feeling – I don’t do such things regularly! – I climbed over the fence to the sheep run and saw a path diagonally crossing their meadow and leading downwards on the backside, towards the river and the gorge. The sheep didn’t like my being there, intruding into their space, bleated complainingly but left me alone otherwise. There was a young forest behind and a stile to cross another fence, then I went further downhill. But no matter where I tried, it was turning down extremely and I recognized I couldn’t go further. There was a fence next to the river keeping me from it, there was only a very small creek going underneath but unless I wanted to dive under the fence (and I clearly did not!) this meant a dead end. In a laborious way I climbed uphill again, crossed the stile and turned left again towards the river. It was so extremely steep that I had to take hold on one small tree after another, cautiously taking small step by step and hold by hold to avoid slipping and falling, more than all to prevent me from hurting myself and there was one thing I knew for sure: There was no way back, no way to get up that hill again!

Quite dirty, I eventually reached the small river that I came for, to my left the landscape was open and flat, to my right was the opening into the gorge. But I had another problem: I was on the wrong side of the river! On the other side of it, there was a small shore stripe, where I stood just rocks. There also were a few young people who were quite astonished where I had come from, they told me they just had crossed the field on the other side and that a little further up, there were also steps leading to a point in the middle of the gorge (I had no possibility to find these since I had been on the wrong side of the river!). I tried to cross the small river with dry feet by hopping from stone to stone, but they were too small, I failed and finally accepted that it just didn’t matter anymore and my trainers were sopping wet. You could walk on the small stripe into the canyon, about 50 meters, where the canyon was larger and there were some more people. Some of them had even taken their shoes and trousers off, walking further up the river and I could see a stone like a mushroom where a girl was posing on and another one taking pictures of her. This was the Devil’s Pulpit, the name that this place was also named after. The gorge was of dark red sandstone with many green plants, it was quite dark because no sun could reach this place and there were many trees above, it was an absolutely magic and enchanted place. Right here, Claire hat been discussing with Dougal about her upcoming marriage and I easily could find myself in that scene. Much more difficult was the imagination of the production team bringing all that shooting equipment down here, just madness!
Back to the car, I took my way across the field to the east, passing the steps that I would use on my next visit, one year later (which I didn’t know then, of course). But if you believe, this was going to be much easier, you’re absolutely wrong! Nothing for milksops and pantywaists and not to be done alone! But no matter how exhausting the morning was – it was very well worth doing it!

Before I left the castle, I had also got an advice for the Wallace Monument, built in honour of William Wallace, the famous Scottish fighter for liberty from 13^th century. They gave me the post code for the monument which made it very easy to find it, only 2-3 km away. This monument was a squared tower, also built on a hill and visitors had to leave their cars in a car park at the foot of the hill where shuttle buses, small minivans, took visitors uphill for only a small fee. On ground level, there was a pretty exhibition and a souvenir shop and the view after more than 200 steps was absolutely fabulous – remember, a tower on a hill, you couldn’t get higher!

It was just Wallace anniversary year, 20 years since the movie “Braveheart” so there were also live acts like this one, sword fighting in historic clothes.

From there I proceeded northwest to Tibbermore Church where they shot for the witch trial. The advice was given to me by Graham and although he couldn’t give me the exact location, he knew it was somewhere next to Crieff. With some online research (nowadays you can find it online much easier!), I found it next to Perth, not far from the motorway A9. The church was on an old graveyard with graves mostly from 19^th century, located somewhere outside the small village and I had to search and ask. The waitress in a shop with café on the crossroads next to Tibbermore very well remembered that the TV team had been there for about two weeks the year before, there had been much hustle and bustle and the production team blocked hotels and B&Bs all over giving the businesses great rates. The graveyard was just a few hundred miles uphill, outside the village.
There was space for 2-3 cars near the graveyard gate which was open, but unfortunately, the old church was not. Quite disappointed, I had to leave the place undone (one year later I was successful, please look 2016).

My four-star hotel was quite chic, the breakfast room was on the 4^th floor with an end-to-end glass front and a direct view to the castle wall, mainly to the enormous metal scaffold emerging from the Esplanade over the abyss. I recognized this as the tribune scaffold of the annual Tattoo (taking place in August every year, please look at 2016). It was still early morning when I checked out, but I got permission to leave my car in the car park during the day, thankfully. I wanted to explore Edinburgh by foot, so I took the steep ascent towards Castle hill, Grassmarket is located really deep down and the castle lies on the back of an extinct volcano. Well, the last eruption happened more than 100.000 years ago, no worries about that.

The castle was not open yet, so I spent some time in the souvenir shop below the Esplanade where I found an amazing teacup that I carefully stowed in my purse and some gifts for my family.
The castle pass that I had bought the other day in Stirling Castle (really pays off if you want to visit several points of interest included) was a really good recommendation since I could join the short queue for people already having an entry ticket. Good luck for me, the other queue was already terribly long even half an hour before the castle opened and I was almost in front of my queue. While waiting, I learned that the scaffold (huge and ugly) was built up every year, taking two months to build up and 1 month to dismount afterwards (see 2016).

The castle offered audio guides, highly recommendable! Since I was one of the first ones to enter the castle – there was only one group with me including their most pushing tour guide – I comfortably could access everywhere, look at everything in peace and quiet and had no crowd, they were always behind me, walking from place to place by numbers. The view from above over the city also would’ve been great, but unfortunately it was dizzy and the sun came out only by noon. In Scotland, a jacket should always be handy.

Leaving the castle towards the East and the Royal Mile, one of the most famous points of interest in the city of Edinburgh. Royal Mile means the distance between Edinburgh Castle and Holyrood Palace where e.g. in old times the mayor rode for his inauguration. In those times, the palace was far outside of city borders. The Royal Mile leads steeply downward, consisting of 4 parts: The Hub (directly beneath the castle), Lawnmarket, High Street and Canongate. Slowly, I could imagine as Claire described it in book 2 and 3 (or wasn’t it Diana, to be real?), one large road leading downward like the main bone of a fish over the hill crest, to its sides like fishbones hundreds of closes and wynds, in old times even more than today, mostly leading very steeply down. There were so many things to be seen, the market fountain, many historic buildings, the Cathedral, souvenir shops (of course), even Christmas shops (throughout the year!), street artists, restaurants and pubs, museums (the Scottish Museum is very recommendable, consisting of two or three well preserved apartments, free to visit and it takes only a short time, not the whole day).

Further down, there is the World’s End pub, where the old city limit was, the houses beyond are younger and more modern and close to the Palace I walked by the Scottish Parliament, an ancient building to the right with a very progressive modern building to the left. For everybody who’s more time to spend, I recommend a visit to those many lanes aside, sometimes, they’re just leading downhill, but often, they have beautiful houses and interesting spots to offer, even gardens and whoever’s interested should book one of those many tours offered, there are tours on many subjects, underground or ghost tours, even Outlander tours now.

Going back from the palace, there was a small problem: The road to the city lead steep uphill. But, after having seen the palace as the last point of view on my list, I could take my time and went into a restaurant for a plate of pasta. There are Italian restaurants almost everywhere in the world!

Not far from there, there was a sweets shop called “The Fudge House” where I bought some gifts for my family. Fudge is some Scottish equivalent for our caramel and besides that, they also had many exquisite varieties of nougat and chocolate, so I could buy a small assortment for my husband and the kids.