12 August 2017:- As I start this, and insert the date, I am
reminded that it is my youngest son’s birthday in New Zealand, where it is the
13th August, his 29th and I have no idea whether he will
receive my Whatsap or Messenger messages regarding his birthday or the welfare
of his partner and family, with internet something we manage for a short while
each day if we are lucky. I am resigned to not having sufficient internet for
the next couple of weeks, which means the posting of this blog will be a batch
of almost three weeks entries.
Today we had put aside for exploring
Inverness, the capital of this Highland region and mostly managed to dodge the
showers to enjoy doing so. We headed in soon after 9 am and parked in the
multi-storey car park of the Eastgate Shopping Centre, which worked well for
us. It was still early as we made our way through the shopping centre and up to
the castle terrace; always a pleasure to avoid the crowds. 
Inverness does have a “castle” standing
high above the river bank, but not of the same calibre as others we have
visited over the past month or so. Robert the Bruce destroyed the first castle
in 1307 during the Scottish Wars of Independence. Rebuilt in the 15th
century as a royal castle, it witnessed struggles with the Lords of the Isles
and a visit from Mary Queen of Scots, who was so offended by the lack of
welcome, she had the keeper of the castle executed. Her life story does not
automatically make one think of a “don’t-mess-with-me” kind of woman, but I
guess she was like us all; there is a line where one will accept no more crap.
The castle was caught up in the Civil War
and the 1715 rebellion. It was blown up by the Jacobites in 1746 supposedly
killing the demolition man and his dog. Only the well, the stairway to Castle
Street and traces of the ramparts survive.
The site inspired Scottish architect
William Burn. He completed the present baronial “castle” in 1836 as the law courts,
a prison and police station added later. Today the building is still used as a
centre for justice.
The tourist can access the top of the
circular tower from which there are apparently 360 degree views as you would
expect, for the fee of £5 each.
We were satisfied with the views down over the river and city from the
terraces, although they were admittedly more restricted. In accessing the
terrace, we could not miss the large statue of Flora Macdonald, celebrating her
heroic efforts to help the Bonny Prince to escape his hideout after the defeat
of Culloden, by rowing him across the sea to Skye, he in the disguise of Irish
servant girl Betty Burke. For her efforts she was arrested seven days after the
event and held in the Tower of London, for about a year. He on the other hand
settled back into his decadent lifestyle as an exiled royal, feted and feasted
until he died of the excesses. Poor Flora; such are the sacrifices that women
make for men. 
The
Inverness Museum and Art Gallery is situated on the side of the castle hill,
and well worth a visit. The Art Gallery is currently playing host to an
exhibition all about the Vikings who colonised so many parts of the British
Isles, particularly Orkney and York, this latter we had learned about when we
were there. But the main base of the museum is dedicated to the geological,
historical and social history of the Highlands, and does a fine job of
explaining most of the questions that arise from the curious.
Chris
and I were most interested in the Highland Clearances, the mass compulsory
relocation of most of those left in the area north of Inverness, the islands
and the highland areas mainly covered in the Cairngorms National Park.
After
Culloden, the old system of clan territories broke down, or more accurately
were forcibly disbanded by the government. The land was now owned by a few
wealthy men and women, who started sheep farming, or made large scale
agricultural improvements in an attempt to generate real income; the business
of land-lording impoverished tenants was no longer profitable. People were
evicted from their homes, sometimes with hideous brutality.
Some
people moved to the coast, to eke out a subsistence life on potatoes and fish.
Others moved into growing towns, like Inverness, or “planned” villages like
Kingussie, or perhaps like Wick which I hope to learn more of. Many emigrated to
form Scots communities around the world such as those in Nova Scotia, or Waipu
in New Zealand’s Northland. Today there are more people of Scottish descent in
these communities than there are in Scotland, myself among them.
The
clearances profoundly affected thousands of people. While some people found
success and built new lives for themselves, for others there were disastrous
consequences.
Here
too was another explanation about the Jacobites, of which we have learned much,
constantly coming across places with a connection.
When
we emerged from the building, we made our way up to the top of High Street,
found a bench and after drying the recent rain off, sat to eat our lunch. No
sooner had Chris sunk his teeth into his sandwich, that it was whipped out of
his hand and I was left holding my head. A massive seagull had obviously been
eyeing us up as we settled for lunch and decided his need was greater than
ours. While the impact of the wing on my head had been more like being walloped
by a pillow, it was the shock of having been mugged for bread and cheese that most
offended us. Several folk had stopped in their tracks standing about to marvel
at the spectacle. I was reminded of the aggressive seagulls of Dundee that have
so recently had to be culled; these of Inverness may be next.
With
his lunch now severely diminished, it was time to pop into Maccas, where the
space was soon filled with a burger and coffee all round. The lengths a man
will go to for a burger!
We
wandered down to the river, admiring the fine buildings about, crossed the
bridge which was built as a replacement for that put out of action in
1959, and headed downriver on the far bank toward the Cathedral, the most
northern seat of Episcopal Bishops in Britain. The Cathedral, constructed in
Tarradale sandstone, was completed in 1869, a time when most of the landed
gentry were Anglicans.
We
were keen to see some of the interior features but were frustrated from doing
so because a service was underway. While the schedule suggested the only
service today was to be at 5 pm, this was a special extra. As we peered through
the glass windows into the main body of the church, we could see the Bishop
topped with his mitre hat, and his fellow religious robe clad minions surrounding
him, moving about raising and lowering some sacred thing, which may have been a
Bible, the congregation sang Alleluias and it was no doubt the highlight of
their ecclesiastic year. Outside a very smart black late model Audi waited in a
no parking area near a side door, ready to whip the Bishop back to his “palace”
or whatever they live in these days. No doubt it is not a modest two bedroom
council flat. While the musical strains and processional types were
entertaining, we were disappointed we were not ourselves able to inspect the
interior of the cathedral, although you, the more respectful reader, might well
suggest we would have been most welcome to join the worshipful congregation.
Instead
we continued on down the river path, crossing on the suspension footbridge
where we paused to chat with a couple of fellow NZMCA members from Papakura and
watch a couple of fly fishermen in waders casting for salmon in the middle of
the river. Life is full of strange co-incidences, although they were part of a
small bus tour unlike us doing our own thing.
It
started to rain as we made our way back up to the commercial centre of the
city; we waited under a tree for the worst of it to pass then mozzied on up
through the shopping area, calling into the rather quaint Victoria Markets then
across to the Morrison superstore where we shouted ourselves a new vacuum
cleaner.
I
have to confess that we have not vacuum cleaned our little home since last
year, so it was a delight to attend to a thorough cleaning operation when we
arrived back at the camp. Our new acquisition is certainly more effective than
a brush and shovel!
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