For the port of Invergordon (for Inverness), the must-see attractions for most tourists would be Loch Ness and Urquhart Castle, but we had visited those sites a few years ago.
From our perspective, something new sounded more appealing. At the last minute, we signed up for the half-day Princess excursion to the historic Culloden Battlefield and Cawdor Castle.
This port location once again allowed us time to walk off the ship directly into town. Much like river cruise ships, Caribbean Princess was able to dock right next to Invergordon.
We spent a while wandering around the Lido Deck of the ship, appreciating the lovely views of the village and the fields on the opposite bank.
Before too long, Julie and I walked off the ship and straight through town to a church with a high steeple as its most noteworthy feature.
The main street of the town had stores and restaurants for those so inclined, but it would be fair to say from our perspective that we saw more storefronts but really no more to do than we had found in the town of Kirkwall.
Along the lines of perspective, I want to reframe a couple of incidents that I previously wrote about in my Kirkwall blog post.
I wrote that my hat might have blown off and delayed our arrival onto our excursion bus.
Thinking back to when Julie and I stepped on the bus late after another day of reflection, I can see from the "haughty" lady's perspective the events in a far more favorable light for her. We should always try to see things from other people's perspective. It's one of the main lessons from Jesus.
From that back-seat lady's perspective, Julie and I had rudely delayed an entire bus of tourists by a minute or two. Her parents, like my own, probably instilled within her the ethic that being late indicated a lack of adequate planning.
She had, after all, managed to beat us to her seat despite a handicap that required walking with the cane I'd noticed on her lap when we attempted to be seated. She was about our age, but considerably more sedentary than us, which perhaps has its own history. We are blessed with excellent health. That likely added to her resentment over us being late.
Perhaps she had previously sought special accommodation for her struggles walking. The solution rendered by the guide may well have been for her to sit in that middle seat at the back when perhaps she wanted one of the front seats for the journey.
Given that, she may not have been "haughty" like we had interpreted but simply annoyed by the entire situation. I confess I was a bit annoyed at not being allowed to retrieve my hat myself and as a result being late, which impacted my perception of the situation.
Shortly after Julie and I grabbed seats separated by a dozen rows, our guide stood up in front. He had an outlandish green wig on his head, which generated a few chuckles. This made me think it would be a fun tour.
He did inject some humor, but mostly his comments were well thought out, delivered in the way you might hope a local resident in a pub might tell you about his homeland.
Like our guide in Akureyri, he had a very strong local accent that made him difficult to understand at first. When we arrived at Culloden Battlefield, both Julie and I, from our perspectives a few rows apart, heard him say where the toilets were located and that we would meet back at the bus at a particular time.
As we walked into Culloden Battlefield, we overheard a knowledgeable Scotsman talking about the history of the battle and the Jacobite cause.
I said to Julie that I wish our green-wigged joker had acted as a source of history while we strolled, like that other guide dressed in a kilt.
We decided to get closer to listen.
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| Reconstruction of Leanach Cottage used by British as field hospital. |
As it turned out, that was our guide.
On that prior Scotland trip mentioned above, we had been to the Glenfinnan Monument dedicated to the Jacobite uprising and defeat at the Battle of Culloden, which I wrote about in the post linked here.
Our guide added important an important detail to what I thought I knew about the battle. He said the Jacobites did not have military weapons like those wielded by British troops. They had only pitchforks, clubs and other implements used for farming.
The Jacobites fought bravely for a leader (Bonnie Prince Charlie) who to me seemed like a vein knucklehead --- I'd say the portrayal by a talented actor on the TV series Outlander fortified that in my thinking --- but they truly were hopelessly out-armed by one of the greatest armies in the world.
Most clan leaders did not expect their only real tactic --- a "Highland Charge" intended to overwhelm the opposing force --- would work against a highly trained, well-armed military. The Jacobites were already worn out from a long march, and like a logs used as battering rams to attack spinning sawmill blades, it was a massacre no matter how tall and strong the individuals were.
Our guide made a point of explaining that along the wall leading to the battlefield, there is a brick for every British soldier who died, a blanks space, and then many more bricks to represent every Jacobite killed. I didn't count the bricks, but new estimates are that 1500 Jacobites died, while about 100 British Army troops perished.
It's a solemn monument to the most important cost of any war.
There's a good battlefield museum featuring lots of weaponry used by the British Army. We passed through it on our way back to the bus.
As we drove, our guide talked about wind power from a very different perspective from our guide in Kirkwall.
He said we may have noticed frequent windmills, which he considered to be ugly
If you think they save the average Scotsman money on their utility bills, however, you would be mistaken. He and his driver attested they pay more for energy now than they did four years ago.
The landowners and the utility companies benefit, but not the average consumer, who had to pay higher electric bills.
That's also quite different from the geothermal energy perspective we learned about in Reykjavik, where the locals did benefit directly from alternative sources of energy, which our guide in Iceland had praised. In fact, he said he and his Polish driver didn't have any utility bills.
After a pleasant enough drive despite on spot of heavy traffic, we arrived at our second stop, Cawdor Castle.
The laird of Cawdor Castle is a member of Scottish nobility, Thain of Cawdor.
If that title rings a bell, think Shakespeare. His fictional MacBeth received that title after King Duncan had the prior Thane executed for treason, which did not actually happen in history.
It was interesting to see this upgraded castle layered in at least 600 years of history.
I particularly like the family's motto: "Be Mindful."
In 1454, the Thane of Cawdor received license to build a new castle on his estate.
Following what he'd seen in a dream, he loaded gold to be used to pay for the castle on the back of donkey and proclaimed he would build where the donkey stopped. On that hot day, the ass stopped under a thorn tree and lay down. The castle was built on that spot, and the tree remains --- now dead --- in the cellar.
The tree was carbon dated to 1372. We report, you decide.
The current owner is Dowager Countess Angelika from Bohemia, who inherited the estate from her husband, the 6th Earl of Cawdor.
In 2002, Angelika's stepson, who is next in line to be Earl of Cawdor Castle, tried to usurp her claim to the castle by moving in while she was away, but she took him to court and won continued possession.
She has done an excellent job maintaining the estate and making it into a nice tourist attraction.
The castle has lots of antiques, art and elegant furnishings that make it an interesting place to visit by audio tour, with headphone and player provided as part of admission.
The presentation often provided interesting if not exactly earth-changing stories from family lore as well as pointing out what may of be of interest in each room.
Many of the rooms seem to be in current use by highly cultured occupants.
After thoroughly touring the castle, seemingly visiting every nook and cranny, we strolled around the lovely gardens.
They're what you might imagine a royal family's gardens should look like.
Julie had her afternoon coffee at a little courtyard outside the Castle's small cafe.
While I am not sure how many specifics about Cawdor Castle we will retain, we enjoyed our afternoon and came away satisfied with our last-minute excursion booking.
We somehow avoided a big traffic jam for a festival that our driver and guide had worried about throughout the day, but we still managed to be the last tour bus to arrive back in Invergordon.
Ship personnel phoned our guide to ask where we were, because from their perspective, we were not exactly too late but definitely troublesome in not being back exactly on schedule. After all, this was a ship-sponsored tour, so they were on the hook if we returned after sail-away.
Form our guide's perspective, he was proud of his hometown and wouldn't be rushed away from pointing out a few local sites, including a mural, before returning to the ship in the nick of time.
The ship did not set sail without us, and we were soon back on our home away from home for another wonderful evening, which seemed to be everyone's perspective.
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