Družinsko potovanje po Škotski – zapisano po dnevih, od Edinburgha z vlakom v Highlands, ob Loch Nessu proti zahodu in po eni najlepših železniških prog na Škotskem do Glasgowa.
Ne glede na to, kam te ponesejo poti, bolj ko se potovanje bliža koncu, bolj pri sebi delaš nekakšno inventuro. Še posebej, kadar gre za deželo, kot je Škotska, ki je bila od nekdaj visoko na seznamu »must go, must see«.
Že takoj lahko brez pomislekov rečem, da nas ni razočarala. Pravzaprav je to veliko težje doseči pri potovanjih, od katerih že vnaprej veliko pričakuješ, kot pri tistih, na katera se odpraviš brez posebnih predstav in pričakovanj.
Škotska skozi naše oči
Škotsko sem si predstavljala kot zeleno deželo prostranega višavja, neštetih gradov in skrivnostnih jezer. Seveda sem bila prepričana tudi, da bomo prav mi tisti, ki bomo ob obisku Loch Nessa končno zagledali Nessie.
No, to je bilo pravzaprav edino škotsko razočaranje, saj Nessie ni bilo nikjer. Očitno je imela tisti dan dopust.
Zaradi večstoletne povezanosti z Anglijo sem si v svoji glavi napletla tudi zgodbo, da bodo Škoti precej podobni Angležem. Kako zelo sem se motila. Očitno še vedno drži tisto, da knjige ne gre soditi po platnicah.
Prav vsak, s katerim smo navezali stik, pa naj je šlo le za bežno srečanje ali daljši pogovor, je bil prijazen, zgovoren, nasmejan in odprt. Preprosto takšen tip ljudi, ki mi je blizu, zato je morda tudi moje navdušenje nad Škotsko toliko večje.
Tudi puncama je bila Škotska vsekakor vredna obiska. Od smeha na račun »goveda s slabo frizuro«, kot je višavsko govedo poimenoval Igor, do neuspešnega iskanja Nessie, skupnih zabavnih trenutkov ni manjkalo.
Višavsko govedo svoje pričeske sicer nosi zelo samozavestno, zato sklepam, da ga Igorjevo mnenje ni posebej prizadelo.
Potovanje, ki nas je spet povezalo
Škotska je bila tudi odlična priložnost za urjenje angleščine. Punci sta začeli samostojneje navezovati stike in se sporazumevati, hkrati pa je koristila tudi nama, saj angleščine ne uporabljava več vsak mesec, pravzaprav niti vsak teden, kaj šele vsak dan.
Na začetku morda v glavi še sestavljaš popoln stavek, sogovornik pa medtem že čaka na odgovor, toda po nekaj dneh besede vendarle stečejo. Če ne drugače, si pomagaš z rokami, nasmehom in univerzalnim turističnim jezikom: »Sorry, could you say that again?«
Predvsem pa smo po dolgem času znova potovali nekoliko drugače. Veliko smo se premikali, menjavali kraje in nastanitve ter se vrnili k načinu »vse, kar imam, nosim s seboj« v nahrbtniku.
Če česa ne moreš spraviti vanj, tega očitno ne potrebuješ. No, vsaj to je moja tolažba, ko ne morem vzeti s seboj toliko, kot si želim …
Tudi čas med pohodi, vožnjami in pešačenjem do nastanitev smo dobro izkoristili. Za vsakdanje pogovore, vprašanja o potovanju, opazovanje sveta skozi okna avtobusov in vlakov ter pogovore o vsem, kar smo srečevali na poti.
Pravzaprav smo bili skupaj veliko več kot doma, kjer nas potegnejo šolske, obšolske in službene obveznosti ter vsakdanji ritem.
Glasgow, Edinburgh in dva različna obraza Škotske
Kar zadeva Edinburgh in Glasgow, moram priznati, da bi Glasgow zlahka izpustila s seznama krajev, ki bi jih želela še enkrat obiskati. Name preprosto ni naredil posebnega vtisa. Zakaj, niti sama ne znam natančno pojasniti.
Morda je bil razlog prav velik kontrast z nekaj dnevi, ki smo jih pred tem preživeli v škotskem višavju, kjer je vse umirjeno, počasno, naravno in pristno. Nato pa se po nekaj urah vožnje znajdeš v Glasgowu. V povsem drugačnem svetu, polnem vrveža, hrupa in predvsem tistega dobro znanega, meni precej odbijajočega vonja po travi. Ne tisti zeleni škotski travi, da ne bo pomote.
Edinburgh pa je povsem druga zgodba. Glavno mesto, ki se ga kar ne moreš naveličati. Nikjer stolpnic, nikjer občutka velikega in neosebnega mesta. Ravno nasprotno.
Ko sem zgodaj zjutraj, še ob zori, odgrnila zavese, je bila ulica pod oknom tiha in mirna kot prizor iz filma, postavljenega nekam v 19. stoletje. Le avtomobili ob pločniku so razkrivali, da smo vendarle v nekem drugem času. Če bi mimo pripeljala še kočija, se mi to najbrž sploh ne bi zdelo nenavadno.
Zeleno, ki te ljubim zeleno
In potem je tu seveda še višavje.
»Zeleno, ki te ljubim zeleno.«
Verz Federica Garcíe Lorce, ki mi še danes, po vseh teh letih, odmeva v spominu na gimnazijska leta in profesorico slovenščine. Pravzaprav si težko predstavljam besede, ki bi lepše opisale Škotsko.
Saj ne, da sami živimo sredi mesta. Tudi zdaj, ko zapisujem zaključne misli o našem potovanju, skozi okno gledam smreko. Desno od računalnika leži telefon, na njegovem zaslonu pa fotografija Nie in Nare.
V jaknah sedita na klopci le nekaj sto metrov od Nessie in zajtrkujeta. Okoli njiju zelena trava, v ozadju teče potok, na obrazih pa široka nasmeha. Koruzni kosmiči verjetno še nikoli niso bili tako dobri.
Ko v očeh svojih otrok vidiš pristno srečo, pravzaprav ne potrebuješ ničesar več. Kaj bi ti lahko bolj ogrelo srce?
Morda so prav ti vmesni trenutki tisti, ki bodo na koncu ostali najdlje. Ne le gradovi, jezera, mesta in škotsko višavje, temveč tudi skupna hoja, smeh, pogovori, zajtrki na klopcah in zavedanje, da smo skupaj. Zares skupaj.
Škotska je tako upravičila prav vsa naša pričakovanja in si prislužila posebno mesto med našimi potovanji. Če bi se prikazala še Nessie, bi bilo že skoraj preveč popolno. Poleg tega pa potrebujemo vsaj en razlog, da se nekoč vrnemo.
Do naslednjega potovanja
Zdaj nas naslednji čakajo naši čarobni Tenerifi. A teh pravzaprav sploh ne štejem več za potovanje. Tenerifi so naš drugi dom. Kraj, kjer preživimo del poletnih počitnic in kjer sem mirna, sproščena in srečna.
Skoraj tako kot doma, le da je tam topleje, pred nosom imamo Atlantski ocean, na krožnikih pa precej več morske hrane. Če sem čisto iskrena, je to nekoliko izboljšana različica doma.
Kam in kdaj nas bo odneslo naslednje pravo potovanje, pa tokrat še čudežno ne vemo. Za nas je to skoraj nenavadno stanje in ne vem, koliko časa bo trajalo.
Verjetno le do trenutka, ko bo nekdo mimogrede omenil zanimiv kraj, jaz pa bom »samo malo pogledala« letalske vozovnice.
Do naslednjega potovanja torej. Kamorkoli že bo, kajti najlepše poti so pogosto prav tiste, za katere še niti ne veš, da te čakajo.
Prebudili smo se v oblačno jutro, eno izmed redkih na tem potovanju. V desetih dneh smo imeli kar osem sončnih dni, od tega štiri s povsem čistim nebom. Nekaj malega je porosilo v Fort Williamu in to je bilo to.
Vse skupaj popolnoma neškotsko. A nad tem se res ni za pritoževati.
Kljub sivemu nebu smo se odločili, da Glasgow raziščemo peš. Dežniki so bili za vsak slučaj pripravljeni v nahrbtniku, sicer pa je bil to naš zadnji dan tu in malo je stvari, ki bi nas lahko zadržale v hotelski sobi.
Pa niti ni bilo nujno, da bi dež današnji Glasgow pokvaril.
Morda ravno nasprotno.
Če obstajajo mesta, ki so videti dobro pod sivim nebom, je Glasgow vsekakor med njimi.
Na enega takšnih prizorov smo naleteli že v prvi minuti po odhodu iz hotela.
Navajen si naših cerkva in njihovih zvonikov, zato ti pogled hitro pritegne cerkev na koncu ulice z visokim, koničastim stolpom.
Predvidevaš, da je to gotika, saj pri taki obliki stolpov nimaš kaj zgrešiti.
Skoraj točno.
Pozneje sem prebral, da gre za neogotiko. Nič dramatičnega, saj je z laičnega vidika to popolnoma nepomembno.
Arhitekturna zgodovina bi mi tu verjetno zabrusila: »Nepomembno, ja. Zgrešil si samo za kakšnih 500 let.«
Kakorkoli že, ta višina, koničaste oblike in temno jutranje nebo so tam na cesti izpadli dobro.
Po Edinburghu smo očitno postali razvajeni
Bolj ko smo hodili, bolj se je jasnilo. Kot da bi nekdo odrezal oblake, ki so še nekaj korakov nazaj napovedovali dež. Nebo se je začelo trgati, kamen je spet dobil barve, tista gotska resnost pa je počasi izginjala.
Tako kot v skoraj vsakem večjem mestu se tudi v Glasgowu gradi na polno. Kamorkoli smo pogledali, je iz mestne silhuete štrlel vsaj kakšen žerjav. Med gledanjem v višino smo se znašli pred stavbo, na kateri je pisalo King’s Theatre.
Pogledali smo jo, naredili fotko in šli naprej.
Nadaljujemo po dolgi, popolnoma ravni ulici. Na naslednjem križišču čez cesto zagledamo veliko stavbo z zeleno kupolo.
»Tole mora biti kakšna knjižnica,« si rečem.
In res je bila.
Po Edinburghu smo očitno postali nekoliko razvajeni. Tako gledališče kot knjižnica se nam na prvi pogled nista zdela nič posebnega.
Če imaš voljo, si o obeh kaj prebereš in ugotoviš, da ju vendarle ne gre podcenjevati.
V gledališču je nekoč nastopala tudi Katharine Hepburn, tako da smo si z njo že drugič v nekaj mesecih delili isto lokacijo. Februarja smo hodili po Španskih stopnicah v Rimu, kjer je z Gregoryjem Peckom snemala Rimske počitnice, zdaj pa smo stali pred gledališčem, v katerem je nastopala.
Knjižnica pa sodi med največje javne knjižnice v Evropi in hrani več kot milijon različnih gradiv.
Včasih se je lepo izgubljati
Všeč mi je, ko po mestu hodiš peš in se nekoliko izgubljaš med ulicami. Navigacija je dovolj samo za to, da približno veš, v katero smer moraš. Potem pa križariš, kot te je volja, in na vsakem križišču pogledaš, kaj se skriva levo, desno ali naravnost.
Na enem takšnih križišč se nam je čisto na koncu ulice odprl zanimiv pogled. Zlata kupola, ob njej pa kot nekakšen stražar še visok, koničast cerkveni stolp. Jasno, neogotski je. Zdaj to že obvladamo.
Zlata kupola pa pripada sikhovskemu templju.
Ah, prehitro sem se hvalil. Pojma nimam, kaj je sikhizem. Google.
Okej, gre za monoteistično religijo, ki izvira iz Indije in ima po svetu približno 25 milijonov pripadnikov.
Zanimivo, a ne dovolj, da bi se sprehodili do tja.
Na drugi strani ceste smo nekoliko višje zagledali drevesa in nekaj več zelenja, zato smo prečkali cesto in zavili navkreber. Univerza, ki je bila naš cilj, je bila tako ali tako nekje v tisti smeri.
Nismo prišli daleč, ko so se pred nami pojavili novi stolpi. Tokrat kar štirje. Zanimiv je bil predvsem eden, tisti na levi.
Visok, kamnit in tako zelo podoben stolpom britanskega parlamenta, da me je v trenutku spomnil na London. Videti je bilo, kot da bi nekdo odlomil kos parlamenta, ga pripeljal na Škotsko in skril na ta hrib v Glasgowu.
Vse to smo odkrili v nekaj minutah, ne da bi bilo karkoli od tega v našem načrtu. In zagotovo bi vse skupaj spregledali, če bi se namesto peš naokoli vozili s kakšnim prevozom.
Včasih se je lepo izgubljati.
Kelvingrove Park: prvi pogled je varal
Od stolpov na hribu smo sledili posameznim drevesom, ki so nas počasi vodila navzdol. Kmalu smo stali pred tablo Kelvingrove Park.
Park pod univerzo.
Torej smo ga vendarle našli.
Našo pozornost je pritegnila predvsem velika siva zgradba na drugi strani. Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum.
No, pa pojdimo pogledat v tisto smer.
Prvih nekaj metrov sicer ni bilo ravno takšnih, kot bi jih mestni turistični urad verjetno izbral za naslovnico.
Očitno jim še ni uspelo počistiti smetnjakov, saj so bile smeti razmetane vse naokrog. Ampak dobro, dokler je samo to.
Že če si se obrnil za 180 stopinj, je bil razgled precej prijaznejši. Povsod zelenje, kot se za park spodobi, sem in tja pa je med drevesi pokukal kakšen stolp univerze.
Za tole fontano pa stoji precej večja zgodba.
Leta 1859 so v Glasgow pripeljali čisto vodo iz skoraj 50 kilometrov oddaljenega jezera Loch Katrine. Za tisti čas je bil to izjemen inženirski projekt. Nekako tako, kot če bi danes za oskrbo mesta zgradili povsem nov vodovodni sistem od Ljubljane do Bleda. Le da iz enačbe odstranimo bagre, tovornjake in drugo sodobno mehanizacijo ter jih zamenjamo s konji, voli in, ker smo ravno na Škotskem, dodajmo še kakšno dolgodlako višavsko kravo.
Čista voda je močno izboljšala življenjske razmere v hitro rastočem mestu in pomagala omejevati bolezni.
In na vse to danes spominja tale precej preprosta fontana. Za njo pa zgodba, precej večja od nje same.
Elvis Presley iz steklenih vlaken
Pot skozi park nas je pripeljala do muzeja, tistega sivega pravokotnika, ki smo ga opazili na tabli ob vstopu.
Sivino je zdaj zamenjala rdečkasta stavba, ki je bolj spominjala na palačo kot na muzej.
Vstop je brezplačen. Še en razlog več, da si ga greš pogledat, če si že tu.
Kelvingrove je precej nenavaden muzej. Meni se je zdelo, kot da bi vstopil v ogromno starinarnico navdušenega zbiratelja, ki je skozi življenje zbiral vse, kar mu je bilo v nekem trenutku všeč.
Najprej maketa sončnega sistema, potem se od nekod pojavi vitraž, ki je nekoč očitno krasil okno kakšne cerkve ali samostana.
Nekaj korakov naprej te čaka pravi viteški oklep.
Deluje resno in masivno. Ravno ko z mislimi zatavaš v srednji vek ter razmišljaš, kako so se v kaj takega sploh spravili, kaj šele, kako so se v njem bojevali, se vsa ta resnost v trenutku razblini.
Sredi hodnika te namreč pričaka živo modra skulptura kralja rokenrola. Iz steklenih vlaken. Futuristični Elvis torej.
Sodeč po trebuhu mora biti že bolj proti koncu kariere.
V naslednji dvorani pod stropom visi pravi Spitfire. Letalo, ki je postalo eden od simbolov britanskega boja proti nacistični Nemčiji.
Pod njim pa … sloni.
Največji med njimi je Sir Roger, pravi azijski slon, ki je nekoč živel v tukajšnjem živalskem vrtu.
Nadaljuješ mimo Rani Lakshmibai, indijske kraljice, ki se je uprla britanski oblasti. Tokrat je bilo okoli nje vsaj še nekaj podobnih kipcev, očitno povezanih z nekdanjimi britanskimi kolonijami.
Noben fluorescentni Elvis ni več skočil v oči.
A ravno ko misliš, da si ugotovil logiko muzeja, se pojavijo nenavadne maske iz Oceanije, inuitska oprava v družbi polarnih lisic in severnih medvedov ter velik totemski steber severnoameriških staroselcev.
V nekaj metrih obhodiš pol sveta in še pol zgodovine, s tem da na koncu niti sam ne veš več, kje in kdaj si.
Ko že misliš, da si videl vse, nad stopniščem zagledaš še množico človeških glav.
Gre za umetniško instalacijo Expression.
Kaj je poanta vsega tega, se nisem poglabljal. Ampak če ti vzbudi radovednost in se ob njej ustaviš, je bil namen verjetno že nekako dosežen.
In potem pridemo do verjetno najbolj znane stvari v celotnem muzeju. Salvador Dalí in njegov Kristus svetega Janeza od Križa, ki je bil izbran za najljubšo sliko Škotske.
Že prvi pogled pove, da Dalí križanja ni naslikal ravno tako, kot smo ga vajeni. Kristusa gledamo skoraj naravnost od zgoraj, brez krvi, žebljev in ran, pod njim pa se odpira mirna obalna pokrajina.
Dalí je s sliko poskušal povezati vero in znanost. V svojih »kozmičnih sanjah« naj bi videl podobo jedra atoma, ki je zanj dobilo metafizični pomen in postalo simbol Kristusa ter enotnosti vesolja.
Pa že, če tako on reče.
Konfuzno? Počakaj, ni še konec.
Malo naprej te že čaka okostje ogromnega jelena. In seveda, ker vse to očitno še ni čisto dovolj, ti za konec pustijo še okostje dinozavra.
Tako, mislim, da smo zdaj videli vse.
Ampak res vse.
Elvis has left the building.
Koliko kelvinov ima reka Kelvin?
Zunaj smo pojedli malico in takrat je začelo kapljati.
No, pa smo ga le dočakali.
Škotski dež.
Kakšne posebne drame ni bilo, saj nas je pot vodila pod gostimi krošnjami dreves, zato nam je bilo večinoma prizaneseno. Pot je bila prav prijetna, še posebej, ker smo že pri prvem drevesu dobili košato spremljevalko.
Veverico.
Očitno navajena ljudi se nam je večkrat povsem približala.
Če smo hoteli priti do univerze, smo morali prečkati še most čez reko Kelvin.
Fizik William Thomson, profesor na bližnji Univerzi v Glasgowu, je ob prejemu plemiškega naziva postal Lord Kelvin. Ime si je izbral prav po tej reki, po njem pa je nato ime dobila Kelvinova temperaturna lestvica.
In koliko kelvinov je imela reka Kelvin, ko smo šli čez most?
Kakšnih 283, kar ti pove natanko nič.
Deset stopinj Celzija se sliši precej bolje.
Bradavičarka brez Harryja Potterja
Univerza stoji na vrhu hriba. V primerjavi s tistimi nesrečnimi zabojniki, ki so nas pričakali v Kelvingrove Parku, je bilo tukaj vse urejeno. Študentje so hiteli na predavanja, mi pa smo se počasi vzpenjali proti vrhu.
Gre za četrto najstarejšo univerzo v angleško govorečem svetu. Koncept je precej drugačen od tistega, ki smo ga vajeni pri nas. V Ljubljani so posamezne fakultete raztresene po različnih delih mesta, tukaj pa je velik del univerzitetnega življenja zbran na enem kampusu. Pravo, ekonomija, družbene in humanistične vede, jeziki, matematika, fizika, računalništvo, inženirstvo, medicina …
Praktično majhno mesto študentov sredi Glasgowa.
Na vrhu te pričaka ogromno pročelje univerze, ki je bilo preveliko, da bi ga spravil v en kader.
Ko smo ga prehodili po vsej dolžini, se je ulilo.
Zbežali smo skozi vhod na notranje dvorišče.
In tam je bilo vse tako, kot mora biti na stari britanski univerzi: kamen, trava, visoka okna, stolpi s stožčastimi strehami in dva velika notranja četverokotnika, ki ju povezuje obokan prehod s stebri.
Verjetno je to eden najbolj fotogeničnih kotičkov univerze. Nič čudnega, da celoten kompleks pogosto primerjajo s Hogwartsom. Harryja Potterja sicer tukaj niso snemali, a ko se sprehodiš pod temi oboki, primerjava niti ni tako zelo privlečena za lase.
Kje so pa klopce?
Uber nas je odložil na drugi strani mesta pred katedralo. Še vedno je deževalo, zato smo hitro vstopili.
Prvi del katedrale je skoraj prazen. Ogromen kamnit prostor, v katerem te nekje na sredini pričaka tudi stojnica s spominki.
Tega ravno ne pričakuješ.
Med hojo proti drugemu koncu katedrale mi nekaj ni šlo skupaj. Glavna ladja se namreč nenadoma konča. Molitvenega prostora pa nikjer.
Nato greš skozi kamnito pregrado in znajdeš se v povsem drugačnem prostoru.
No, v bistvu niti ne. Samo klopce so dali sem.
Zdaj je že bolj podobno cerkvi.
Je pa lepo. Visok lesen strop, dolga vrsta obokov, veliki vitraži in seveda klopce.
Pozneje sem prebral, da je bila takšna delitev načrtna. Kamnita pregrada je nekoč ločevala prostor za običajne vernike od dela katedrale, namenjenega duhovščini.
Mesto mrtvih nad mestom živih
Nad katedralo se dviga nekropola. Zopet nekaj nenavadnega, saj smo prvič videli pokopališče na hribu.
Pravzaprav se grobovi začnejo že okoli same katedrale, nato pa se nadaljujejo po pobočju. Nekateri so preprosti nagrobniki, drugi pravi mali templji, mavzoleji in spomeniki.
Bolj kot na klasično pokopališče vse skupaj spominja na park. Med grobovi vodijo poti, povsod je zelenje in višje ko prideš, bolj se odpira pogled na Glasgow.
Na nekropoli je pokopanih okoli 50.000 ljudi, čeprav je grobnic in spomenikov le okoli 3.500. Veliko pokojnikov je bilo pokopanih v skupnih, neoznačenih grobovih, zato so nekatere današnje zelene površine pravzaprav grobišča tisočev ljudi.
Očitno si tudi v smrti nismo enaki.
Proti vrhu izstopa spomenik Johnu Knoxu, glavnemu reformatorju, ki je imel ključno vlogo pri prehodu Škotske iz katoliške v protestantsko državo. Ta spomenik je stal že pred nastankom pokopališča.
Torej pokopališče ni dobilo spomenika. Spomenik je dobil pokopališče.
Tak pa je razgled čisto z vrha.
Če ne bi stal sredi pokopališča, bi bilo skoraj lepo.
Ko Glasgow postane galerija
Do večera je bilo še daleč, dež je ponehal, energije pa smo imeli še dovolj. Namesto novega Uberja smo se zato odločili, da se do nastanitve vrnemo peš.
In prav na tej poti smo po naključju našli nekaj, pri čemer Glasgow po mojem prekaša celo Edinburgh.
Ogromne prazne stene večnadstropnih stavb so tukaj spremenili v prava umetniška platna.
Pravijo jim murali.
To nam je bilo res všeč.
Dolgočasna prazna stena lahko ostane dolgočasna prazna stena.
Lahko pa jo daš nekomu, ki zna iz nje narediti nekaj, zaradi česar se med hojo po mestu ustaviš in z veseljem pogledaš.
Ideja, ki bi jo lahko brez težav ukradli tudi v Sloveniji. Umetnikov, ki bi znali takšne stene spremeniti v nekaj zanimivega, imamo zagotovo dovolj.
Nekje na poti smo se ustavili še na kosilu, nato pa nas je čakal samo še zadnji vzpon proti hotelu.
Eno naših najlepših potovanj
Po desetih dneh hoje, vlakov, avtobusov, Uberjev, gradov, jezer, gora in mest se je naše potovanje po Škotski počasi bližalo koncu.
Jutri nas čakata le še pot do edinburškega letališča in polet nazaj proti Sloveniji.
Kako je Anja doživljala naše potovanje po Škotski, pa bo napisala v naslednjem zapisu.
Če mene kdo vpraša?
To je bilo eno naših najlepših potovanj.
Imelo je vse. Mesta in gradove, Harryja Potterja, jezera in gore, dolge vožnje z vlaki, iskanje Nessie, skrivnosti in zgodbe, zaradi katerih Škotska nikoli ni bila samo še ena država, skozi katero smo potovali.
Na naši lestvici je takoj za Helsinki in obiskom Božička v Rovaniemiju.
Glasgow → Kelvingrove Park → Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum → reka Kelvin → Univerza v Glasgowu → Glasgow Cathedral → Glasgow Necropolis → murali Glasgowa → Glasgow
We arrived at the station quite early that morning, with more than an hour to go before our train was due to leave. Anja and I had already had our coffee at the apartment, but none of us felt like staying there a minute longer. You know the feeling: there’s another journey ahead, new views, a new adventure, and our final stop.
Glasgow.
That day also marked our farewell to the Highlands. After Edinburgh, they had grown on us more and more with each passing day. First came the train journey across the Scottish Highlands to Inverness, then Loch Ness and the route through the Great Glen between lochs and mountains, followed by Fort William, Ben Nevis and that viaduct, which had been one of the main reasons we came here in the first place. And, of course, our boat trip on Loch Linnhe.
Over those few days, we had experienced the Highlands in all sorts of ways: from trains and buses, from a boat, and above all on foot. Lochs, valleys, mountains and small towns, with miles of countryside in between where there seemed to be almost nothing at all, apart from the views that made the journey all the more beautiful and interesting.
With plenty of time to spare at the station, I went to see one last thing in Fort William. Practically across the road lie the remains of the old fort that gave the town its present-day name.
Not much of it remains today, just a few stone ruins scattered across a grassy field. The fort was built in a strategic position on the shores of Loch Linnhe, at the entrance to the Great Glen, from where one of the main routes through the Scottish Highlands could be controlled.
That route through the Highlands still exists today, although its purpose is rather different. This is where the Great Glen Way begins, or ends, a walking trail of just under 120 kilometres between Fort William and Inverness.It follows almost the same route we had travelled over the previous few days.
Plenty of people walk it.
We weren’t quite so enthusiastic about that idea, so we covered the distance in considerably more comfort. By bus.
As I made my way back towards the station, I spotted something across the road that had apparently also recognised Fort William’s strategic location.
Opposite the ruins of the old fort stands a McDonald’s.
By Train Through the Highlands, Volume 2
Here in Scotland, train tickets are something you need to think about in advance, even outside the peak season. I had bought ours through the Trainline app before we even left home, and it turned out to be the right decision.
The platform was packed.
When you buy your tickets, you also reserve your seats, although there was a slight concern that we might get a repeat of what had happened on our journey from Edinburgh to Inverness. Back then, the train had arrived with fewer carriages than planned, which meant that our reserved seats simply didn’t exist.
Physically.
So we took whatever individual seats were still available. Each of us somewhere on our own, as if we weren’t a family at all but had had a massive argument just before getting on the train.
We survived that too.
And not only that. Despite everything, the journey itself was beautiful, mainly because of the scenery passing by outside the window.
This time, everything was exactly as it should be. Our carriage existed, and so did our seats. This time, we even had a table.
Perfect.
Soon after leaving Fort William, it becomes clear just how little it takes to find yourself back in the middle of nowhere in this part of Scotland.
The town disappears behind us, with the occasional isolated house here and there, and then there is nothing but nature.
Every now and then, a stream cuts through the landscape, forests alternate with open hillsides along the railway, while water stays with us almost constantly on our right.
Then the train climbs a little higher.
And up here, there really was nothing.
I don’t know, but my first thought was that we had somehow ended up on the Moon. Bare hillsides, with no houses, roads or any other signs of civilisation.
Only the yellowish grass gave away the fact that we were still on Earth.
And then you spot two hikers through the window.
Well, we definitely weren’t on the Moon!
Step by step, they were making their way towards the end of their journey, probably Fort William. Watching them, I almost felt a little guilty. There they were, walking every single metre, while we were comfortably experiencing the whole thing through a train window.
But everyone has their own idea of how to travel.
And I think I can say with some confidence that we were all exactly where we wanted to be.
And then it begins. Through the window, the landscape of the Scottish Highlands starts unfolding before you, each view building on the last.
That yellowish grass is everywhere, of course. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a small loch appears.
Then another.
And then more. The little lochs keep multiplying, with more and more blue appearing among the yellowish grass.
The little lochs gradually give way to a larger one.
Beyond it rise brownish-yellow hills, with the occasional patch of snow still visible in the distance.
Soon, another colour joins the scene.
Green.
Trees and forests bring it into the landscape.
And above it all, the blue sky completes the picture.
Yellowish grass, blue lochs, brown hills, white patches of snow, green forests and a blue sky.
Each new colour adds another layer to the last, until together they form the landscape of the Scottish Highlands.
It’s Not Over Yet
Somewhere around here, the girls fell asleep.
You almost feel like closing your eyes for a while too. After all that gradual build-up, you don’t really expect the landscape to have much more up its sleeve.
And once again, you’re wrong.
The train runs high above the valley, and just as we are about to leave it behind, a hill suddenly comes into view behind us, looking as though it might erupt at any moment.
Like some kind of miniature volcano.
After that, the Scottish Highlands slowly began to fade behind us.
If I had to compare our two big train journeys across Scotland, I wouldn’t hesitate much. The journey from Edinburgh to Inverness gets a straight five out of five from me. Maybe partly because it was the first, and we had no idea what to expect. This time, we at least had some idea of what lay ahead.
Don’t get me wrong, this journey wasn’t bad either.
A solid four out of five.
Perhaps a little unfair, because the scenery here was beautiful too. But the first one was just that. The first.
And you never forget your first.
Welcome to Glasgow
And what was our final stop before flying home?
Glasgow.
Scotland’s largest city. Just like Edinburgh, there’s stone everywhere, broad streets and imposing old buildings.
But something felt different.
Edinburgh had a certain elegance that you noticed almost immediately. I didn’t get that same feeling in Glasgow. It seemed harder, rougher around the edges.
To be fair, I hadn’t expected much from the city. It had made it into our itinerary mainly because it made far more sense logistically as our final stop than travelling all the way back to Edinburgh from Fort William.
But what do they say?
Never judge a book by its cover.
First, though, we had to get to our hotel. After more than three hours on the train, none of us felt like walking through the city with our backpacks.
Uber. Let’s go.
We didn’t last long at the hotel either. Our stomachs had other ideas. So, back into the city centre.
Within the first few steps, you realise that Glasgow is anything but flat. The streets are constantly rising and falling, and hills are simply part of everyday life here.
After a few days surrounded by lochs, hills and small towns, we suddenly found ourselves back in the middle of a big city. And once again, we had to pay a lot more attention to the traffic.
Especially to the fact that they drive on the left.
You just never quite get used to it. You look left, you look right, and then, just to be safe, you look left again.
Most of the streets were one-way anyway, but at every junction you still found yourself wondering which direction the next car was going to come from.
Well, Let’s Just Go to McDonald’s
We were slowly making our way towards the city centre, still keeping an eye out for somewhere to eat along the way.
At one point, we passed a rather interesting statue. Standing in the middle of the city is a bronze firefighter in full protective gear.
The statue is dedicated to firefighters from Glasgow and the surrounding area. It was unveiled in 2001, and later that same year it also became a place of remembrance for the firefighters who lost their lives in the attacks in New York.
What a coincidence. I’m writing this very section today, on 11 September. Twenty-five years later. On the day when we all remember where we were when it happened.
But there wasn’t a restaurant in sight. We couldn’t be bothered to keep looking. Past the railway station and straight into McDonald’s.
For the first time since we arrived in Scotland.
Maybe it had been meant to happen all along, ever since I spotted that McDonald’s in Fort William that morning.
Along the River Clyde
When we stepped back outside after lunch, something very familiar from Edinburgh was waiting for us.
The wind.
It was blowing pretty much constantly. Glasgow is close to the sea too, of course, except this time we were on the other side of Scotland.
Since we were already here, we decided to take a look at the river that helped shape Glasgow into one of the world’s great shipbuilding cities.
Clyde.
Its banks were once lined with shipyards, while the river connected Glasgow to the sea and the wider world.
And since we were already standing on the bridge, we might as well cross it.
The first thing you notice is the smell of weed. Fair enough, that was nothing new. We’d already come across that in Washington, New York, London, Tenerife and probably a few other places too.
What bothered us more was the state of the surroundings. Some buildings had broken windows, others were covered in graffiti, and the whole area looked rather neglected.
Right, best to get back across the river as quickly as possible.
We definitely wouldn’t be coming back this way.
Buchanan Street and Wellington with His Cone
From run-down to refined as you make your way towards the heart of Glasgow.
Almost every major city has its main promenade. La Rambla in Barcelona, Rua de Santa Catarina in Porto, Via del Corso in Rome. In Glasgow, that role belongs to Buchanan Street.
The broad pedestrian street is full of people, shops and street musicians. Imposing stone façades line both sides, with luxury hotels and shopping arcades among them.
Future Ed Sheerans are trying their luck on the street, but above all, the atmosphere here feels a lot more pleasant than it did just a few minutes ago.
I can’t remember exactly where we turned, but somewhere along the way we came across one of Glasgow’s more recognisable symbols.
The Duke of Wellington. On horseback.
The man defeated Napoleon at Waterloo, but that’s not what makes him famous in Glasgow. These days, he’s best known for the traffic cone that usually sits on his head.
Locals started putting cones on the statue back in the 1980s. The city authorities kept removing them, only for new ones to appear. Eventually, they gave up, and the cone became part of Wellington, and part of Glasgow.
When we were there, though, apparently Wellington alone wasn’t enough.
His horse had a cone too.
I can’t imagine something like this playing out quite the same way back home in Slovenia.
I don’t think it would.
That probably says something about the people here.
Why Do They Actually Drive on the Left?
The day was slowly turning into evening, the wind was still blowing hard, and all the travelling had finally started to catch up with us. We didn’t feel like walking any more.
Uber.
I sat in the front passenger seat. On the right-hand side.
And there it was again. Cars coming from the wrong direction, turns being made onto the wrong side of the road, and even after all those days in Scotland, I still hadn’t got used to them driving on the left.
Why do they drive on the left anyway?
That evening, I couldn’t quite let it go, so I did a little digging.
And it turned out that we’re actually the strange ones.
Well, historically speaking, at least.
One of the most common explanations goes back to the days of horses, riders and swords. Since most people were right-handed, they kept to the left side of the road. That way, their right hand faced whoever was approaching from the opposite direction. If that person’s intentions weren’t exactly friendly, your hand was right where you needed it.
On your sword.
Later, perhaps on your pistol.
Later, perhaps on your pistol.
Today? I don’t know. Apparently, giving someone the middle finger isn’t considered very polite anymore.
The British later made driving on the left the law and spread the practice around the world through their empire. That’s why people still drive on the left today in Australia, New Zealand, India and many other countries. In Europe, apart from the United Kingdom, you’ll find the same rule in Ireland, Malta and Cyprus.
Now we know.
Time for bed, and to look forward to our final day in Scotland.
We’ve been travelling around Scotland for well over a week now, so it felt like the right time to take things a little easier.
Yesterday, we first watched boats making their way uphill, before boarding a train and following in the footsteps of Harry Potter’s Hogwarts Express. Today, it was time to turn our attention to the loch that has been part of the Fort William scenery ever since we stepped off the bus.
Loch Linnhe
At first glance, it looks like a vast lake tucked between the Scottish mountains. But in fact, it isn’t a lake at all. The water is salty, as Loch Linnhe is a sea loch through which the Atlantic reaches deep into the Scottish mainland.
Its location is interesting too. Beneath it runs the Great Glen Fault, a major geological fault that continues through Loch Lochy all the way to Loch Ness. It was this same fault line that accompanied our journey along Loch Ness just a few days ago.
There, we were looking for Nessie. Today, we were hoping to spot seals here.
As we were heading back to our accommodation the previous evening, I noticed a sign by the shore advertising boat trips. Since we didn’t have anything major planned for today, I decided to see what they had to offer.
A cruise along the loch, views of Ben Nevis and the surrounding mountains, fish farms and shellfish farms, and above all, the chance to spot seals, otters and other wildlife along the way.
I think it was the seals that really won us over.
Our wildlife sightings, however, turned out to be a little more modest. During the entire cruise, we caught just a brief glimpse of a single seal’s head popping above the surface before disappearing back into the water.
But, of course, we didn’t know that yet.
Clear Skies
I bought the tickets online the evening before. Just as well, as the boat was full the next morning.
As often happens with groups, a few people were running late, so we had to wait. Once everyone was finally on board, we pulled away from the pier and our cruise on Loch Linnhe began.
As soon as you move just a few metres away from the shore, Ben Nevis opens up in front of you. As we had already noticed several times over the past three days, from a Slovenian perspective, there is something slightly unusual about it. You are looking at the highest mountain in the UK, yet its summit is still lower than our Vršič Pass.
But from the waters of Loch Linnhe, you can see it from its base all the way to the summit. The full 1,345 metres rise above you.
Looking back towards Fort William, you also get a good view of the long pier. Because of the large difference between high and low tide, it has to extend far enough out to provide access to deeper water even when the tide is out.
Somewhere around here, our captain came over the loudspeaker for the first time and began his commentary with a few words about the day’s weather.
“If I had to rate today’s weather on a scale from one to ten, I’d give it 45.”
Apparently, days when there isn’t a single cloud above Fort William are pretty rare.
Clear skies.
I was inclined to believe the captain, considering he sails on Loch Linnhe practically every day.
The tide was out during our cruise. We slowly left Fort William behind, and looking back towards the shore made it easy to see just how far the water actually retreats.
A Ship Without the Sea
As you watch the Moon’s gravity at work, a rather unusual sight appears ahead of you. An old ship sits on the shore, and it clearly hasn’t sailed anywhere for quite some time.
At first, you can’t tell whether it is simply the result of the low tide or whether there is another story behind it.
The captain explains that it is an old fishing vessel that was supposed to be converted into a floating restaurant. But no guest ever got the chance to enjoy a seafood platter here.
A little over a decade ago, a powerful storm swept through the area. The chain securing the ship broke, and the wind and sea carried it onto the shore.
There it ran aground.
And there it stayed.
Today, it is slowly being worn away by the Scottish weather, salt water and time.
Ben in Nevis
Here, Loch Linnhe narrows for a while before widening out again a little further ahead into yet another loch.
There really is no shortage of water in this part of Scotland.
We pass the pier that marks the entrance to the Caledonian Canal. It allows boats to take a shortcut straight through the Scottish Highlands instead of sailing all the way around the north of Scotland.
A little further from here are Neptune’s Staircase, where yesterday we watched three sailing boats “climb” almost 20 metres with the help of eight locks.
Corpach is also known for its sawmill. Of everything the captain told us about it, what I remembered most was their sense of humour. The two biomass boilers used at the sawmill have been named Ben and Nevis.
Apparently, everything around here really does revolve around the highest mountain in the UK.
When People and Animals Lived Under the Same Roof
The cruise continued towards the sea, and individual houses and farms began to appear along the opposite shore. Nothing particularly unusual, you might think, until the captain came over the loudspeaker again.
This time, instead of praising the perfect weather, he told us a story about how people once lived along these shores.
He began talking about traditional Scottish blackhouses.
People and animals once lived under the same roof. The family occupied one part of the house, while the livestock lived in another. In the Scottish climate, this arrangement had at least one practical advantage: the animals contributed their share of warmth to the house.
There was deliberately no chimney either. Smoke from the peat fire slowly found its way out through the thatched or turf roof, helping to preserve it and keep insects away. When the soot-soaked thatch was eventually replaced, it ended up on the fields as fertiliser.
A kind of cycle in which almost everything had another use afterwards.
Of course, you no longer see these houses here today. In their place are much more comfortable homes, with the occasional rather impressive villa among them.
Between Mountains and Fish Farms
The captain picked up speed.
Valleys drifted past us, with streams flowing down into the loch, while for a few minutes we simply enjoyed the views.
Hills surround you throughout the cruise, giving you that unmistakable feeling of sailing across a loch in the heart of the Scottish Highlands. The yellow gorse along the shore contrasted beautifully with the brown hillsides and the blue water of the loch.
The captain only slowed down when we reached a salmon farm.
An industry worth well over a billion pounds a year.
Not far away, we spotted a shellfish farm, before heading towards one of the highlights of the trip.
Seal Island
Common and grey seals are said to gather on the rocks here, coming out of the water to rest. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be.
We saw rocks.
Just rocks.
Not a single seal.
The captain explained that one of the nearby residents had apparently been chasing them away because they bothered him. If I’m completely honest, it also sounded like a rather convenient excuse for those days when the seals simply fail to show up.
But anyway.
I wasn’t particularly disappointed. Wherever you looked, there was another view opening up in front of you, and the cruise on Loch Linnhe alone was worth the trip.
Nia, however, wasn’t entirely convinced by that explanation.
Of everything we were supposed to see on the cruise, the seals were what she had been looking forward to most. Mountains, salmon, shellfish and the Scottish scenery weren’t exactly an adequate substitute.
It took us quite a while to cheer her up.
Nature doesn’t follow a timetable.
When Ben Nevis Becomes an Elephant
We were slowly making our way back towards Fort William when the captain came over the loudspeaker one last time.
He told us to take another good look at Ben Nevis.
“What does that shape remind you of?”
I looked towards the mountains.
had no idea. What was it supposed to remind me of?
Then he told us.
An elephant.
And at that moment, we all saw it. The head, the back and the trunk. What had been nothing more than the outline of the Scottish mountains just a few seconds earlier suddenly became a giant elephant.
And that was it.
From then on, all you could see was the elephant.
A rather nice final touch to a cruise that may not have delivered the promised seals, but had given us plenty of other things to see.
Once we stepped back onto dry land, nature quickly made way for a much more everyday problem.
We were hungry.
So we headed along the High Street, looking for somewhere to eat.
154 Kilometres Later
After lunch, we took another short walk around Fort William and sat down on a bench beside a bronze figure we had passed several times over the past few days without paying much attention to him.
This time, we had time to spare, so I actually stopped to read the plaque beside him.
The statue is called Sore Feet and marks the end of the 154-kilometre West Highland Way, which begins near Glasgow.
Just then, two hikers were approaching it. Backpacks, hiking boots, looking a little tired. When they sat down beside the bronze figure, the expressions on their faces could easily have illustrated the dictionary definition of happiness.
With full stomachs, we couldn’t really compete with that, so we continued up the street and stopped at the next statue.
This one was different. He didn’t have sore feet. He was sitting in a car.
And, of course, there’s a story behind that too.
The statue commemorates a rather unusual feat from the beginning of the last century, when a Ford Model T was driven up Ben Nevis. The kind of car you’re most likely to see today in old black-and-white footage.
It took them several days, but in the end, they made it.
154 kilometres on foot or driving a car up Ben Nevis. Quite a choice.
We went for a third option and headed to the museum just a few metres away.
Along a mostly flat route.
Slovenians Clearly Don’t Come Here Very Often
As soon as we walked in, we were greeted by two ladies looking after the museum, and almost immediately came a question we had become quite used to on this trip.
“Where are you from?”
When we told them we were from Slovenia, one of them said they didn’t get many Slovenian visitors. She had, however, visited Slovenia twice herself and absolutely loved it.
Naturally, we returned the compliment. We were slowly falling for Scotland too.
Then we set off to explore the museum.
The West Highland Museum is small and very much a classic local museum. Weapons, old photographs, objects from everyday life, traditional Scottish clothing, and a substantial section devoted to the Jacobites and Bonnie Prince Charlie.
In other words, those who wanted to put a Scot back on the British throne.
Nothing that would make me add Fort William to an itinerary just for the museum. But if you’re already here, have some time to spare, are interested in the area’s history, or simply don’t know what else to do with yourself, it’s worth a look.
One Last Evening in Fort William
The afternoon was slowly drawing to a close.
Considering we were already in the very heart of Scotland, it somehow seemed only right to step off the High Street and onto the terrace of one of the local pubs.
And for me to finally have a proper Scottish whisky.
Loch Linnhe stretched out in front of us, with the sun slowly sinking behind the hill beyond it. That very morning, we had been out there on the water, looking for seals that had refused to show themselves.
By now, nobody was looking for them anymore.
And so, over a glass of whisky, we slowly brought the day to a close…
All that remained was one last night and our farewell to Fort William. The next morning, we had a several-hour train journey to Glasgow ahead of us along the famous West Highland Line, one of Scotland’s most scenic railway routes.
Fort William → Loch Linnhe cruise → Corpach Wreck → Corpach → salmon farm → Black Rock / Seal Island → Fort William → Sore Feet statue → Ford Model T → West Highland Museum → pub by Loch Linnhe
We woke to the sound of seagulls loudly arguing on the rooftop next door, seemingly unaware that anyone might still be asleep.
Then again, who could really blame them?
A day in and around Fort William was waiting for us. Our first stop was Neptune's Staircase, where we wanted to watch boats make their way through the impressive series of canal locks. Later, we would head to the Glenfinnan Viaduct, known around the world as part of the route to Hogwarts in the Harry Potter films.
But before all of that, breakfast with a view of the loch.
Fort William itself does not have a great deal to offer. While planning this trip, I actually wondered whether I had made a mistake by booking three nights here. But a few days later, as we boarded the train to Glasgow, we knew we had made the right choice.
The real reason to stay in this part of the Scottish Highlands lies not in the town itself, but in everything that surrounds it.
When the Bus Timetable Becomes a Puzzle
Of course, you can't resist taking a walk through the upper part of town when Loch Linnhe stretches out below, surrounded by the ever-changing colours of the landscape.
Down on the street, I turned my attention to the local bus timetable. Had it been written in Chinese instead of English, the outcome would probably have been exactly the same.
It all felt a little too complicated for that early in the morning, so we decided to take a taxi instead.
Our first stop was Banavie, a small village just a few kilometres from Fort William. At first glance, there is not much to it, but it sits at a fascinating meeting point of water, rail, and mountains. The Caledonian Canal passes through the village, the West Highland Line runs alongside it, and in the background rises Ben Nevis, the United Kingdom's highest mountain at 1,345 metres.
But we had come here for one reason in particular.
Neptune's Staircase
The taxi dropped us off in a car park beside an old stone building. In front of us lay Neptune's Staircase, the most impressive series of locks on the Caledonian Canal.
The way it works is actually quite simple. A boat enters the first lock and the gates behind it close. The water level is then either raised or lowered until it matches the level of the next section of the canal. Once the two levels are equal, the next gates open and the boat continues its journey.
The process is repeated through all eight locks, allowing boats to overcome a height difference of around 20 metres. Built more than two hundred years ago, the lock system forms part of the Caledonian Canal, which links Scotland's east and west coasts through the natural chain of lochs in the Great Glen. It spared ships the long and often hazardous voyage around the country's northern coast.
Today, the canal is used mainly by recreational boats, many of them sailing yachts. A transit through the entire canal costs from around €400, depending on the size of the vessel.
When the Bridge Started to Move
I positioned myself in the middle of the bridge, hoping to capture as many of the locks as possible in a single photograph.
It wasn't long before the water beneath me began to churn, and it quickly became obvious that it was time to step off the bridge. A sailing yacht had just completed its descent through the final lock. As the gates opened, the bridge where I had been standing only moments earlier swung aside towards the bank, allowing the yacht to continue its journey.
Luckily for us, three sailing yachts were already waiting on the other side, ready to begin their climb up Neptune's Staircase.
Passing through the entire lock system takes about an hour and a half, giving us plenty of time to watch the boats slowly "climb" their way uphill.
Further up Neptune's Staircase, the trees begin to thin out, revealing a view that is well worth pausing for. From one spot, you can take in the two-hundred-year-old locks, the boats slowly making their way through the canal, and Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in the United Kingdom, where patches of snow were still visible even in late April.
It would have been hard to find a better setting for a second morning coffee. We settled into the nearby café and simply watched the scene unfold below us.
By Rail to Hogwarts
At Number 4 Privet Drive lived an eleven-year-old boy named Harry. He grew up with his aunt and her family, never quite feeling that he belonged. Then, one day, a letter arrived. It was an invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
At Platform 9¾, he boarded a train, and a whole new chapter of his life began. During the journey, he met Ron and Hermione, while the landscapes outside the windows became some of the most memorable scenes in the Harry Potter films. Among them is the Glenfinnan Viaduct, crossed by the Hogwarts Express.
For our family, that story means a little more than it might for many others. Nara, in particular, has become a true Harry Potter fan and had already read all seven books by the fourth grade.
And wherever we travel, we somehow always seem to come across something that connects us with Harry's world.
In London, we tried to make our way through the wall to Platform 9¾ at King's Cross Station and visited the Warner Bros. Studio Tour, where we stepped straight into the sets, costumes, and props from the films.
In Portugal, we visited the famous bookshop in Porto, where the author once lived, with its staircase said to have inspired the one at Hogwarts. In Coimbra, we watched students walking through the university in their traditional black academic robes, strikingly similar to those seen in the films.
In Edinburgh, we wandered along Victoria Street, often associated with Diagon Alley, and visited the cemetery where the grave of Tom Riddle, believed to have inspired the name of the series' main villain, can be found.
Now, here in the heart of the Scottish Highlands, the grand finale was waiting for us.
We stood on the platform at Banavie Station, ready to travel along the very railway that the film world turned into the route to Hogwarts.
The Train That Existed, But Wasn't Running
While planning our trip to Scotland, I wanted to surprise Nara by booking tickets for the Jacobite, the famous vintage steam train that crosses the Glenfinnan Viaduct and closely resembles the Hogwarts Express from the films.
But after checking last season's ticket prices, my enthusiasm quickly faded. For a family, the journey was anything but cheap, while regular train tickets along the very same railway line cost more than ten times less.
So we changed our plans. We would take a regular train to Glenfinnan, then wait by the viaduct to watch the steam train pass overhead.
Except there was one problem. During our visit, the Jacobite wasn't running at all. The reason was explained to us that morning by the taxi driver who had taken us to Neptune's Staircase.
According to him, the train was owned by a wealthy Scot who saw it mainly as a passion project. The authorities had reportedly insisted that the historic carriages be upgraded to meet modern safety standards, but he didn't want to alter their original character.
"Then you won't be running the train," they supposedly told him.
"Then I won't," he supposedly replied.
Like many good stories, the taxi driver's version included a little storytelling, but the essence was true. The start of the season had indeed been delayed while the historic coaches were being modified to meet modern door-locking safety requirements.
As I write this two months later, I checked how the story ended. The Jacobite is running again, and the ticket prices have now been published.
It is also worth booking tickets for the regular train in advance, mainly to secure seat reservations. I bought ours through the ScotRail app, although you can also purchase them at the station a day or two before your journey.
When the train arrived, I couldn't work out which carriage our reserved seats were in, so we simply boarded the first one we came to.
Completely full.
Then, halfway down the carriage, we spotted four empty seats.
What luck.
They were ours.
Britain's Most Famous Viaduct
The journey to Glenfinnan Station takes about half an hour. The train follows the shores of Loch Linnhe, with Ben Nevis rising in the distance, while along the coastline you might spot a sheep, a stranded sailing yacht, or sometimes both at once.
When booking your tickets, it is worth reserving seats on the left-hand side of the train, as that's where you'll find the best views throughout the journey.
Before long, the loch disappears behind you, and the hills begin to dominate the landscape. We were talking about Harry Potter when the train slipped through a narrow rock cutting.
Then, music began to play through the speakers.
And suddenly, the Glenfinnan Viaduct unfolded before us in all its glory.
I know it sounds a little silly. But after all the anticipation, the journey, the music, and that moment when the viaduct suddenly appears from behind the rocks, the child in you quietly whispers:
"Wow... I'm on my way to Hogwarts."
A few moments later, once the train has crossed the viaduct, you're an adult again, already wondering where the train will stop, how far you'll have to walk, and whether you packed enough water.
From childhood imagination straight back to grown-up practicality.
In the Middle of Nowhere... Almost
Glenfinnan Station is small and feels as though it stands in the middle of nowhere. There is no real village around it, just the occasional solitary house scattered across the landscape.
The walk to the viaduct takes about twenty minutes. From the station, the path gently descends into the valley, with beautiful views of the surrounding hills opening up along the way.
About halfway there, we came across a charming little church surrounded by a meadow full of wildflowers. The view beyond it was even more beautiful.
When you reach the bottom of the valley, a tall stone tower beside the loch comes into view on your right. It is the Glenfinnan Monument
Although Glenfinnan is best known today because of Harry Potter, this place was already part of Scottish history long before the films. It was here that Bonnie Prince Charlie gathered his supporters, marking the beginning of the Jacobite Rising of 1745.
It was the year 1745, and this was the final great attempt to restore the House of Stuart, the former royal dynasty of Scotland and England, to the British throne.
It was not to be.
On the other side of the road, however, an entirely different story begins. There you'll find the car park and the start of the path leading to the Glenfinnan Viaduct.
Here, a single road separates the struggle for the British crown from the battle against the Dark Lord.
Beneath the Arches of Glenfinnan
There were still about 500 metres to walk across the meadow before we reached the viaduct. Quite a few visitors were already there, most of them tourists from across Asia.
If you're planning to hike up to the viewpoint, it's worth wearing proper footwear. The path crosses a grazing field, so it's a good idea to watch where you step. The higher you climb, the muddier the trail becomes, with plenty of loose rocks underfoot.
At the top, we sat down and waited to see if a train would cross the viaduct.
None came.
Still, watching the historic steam train glide across the viaduct, leaving a trail of steam behind it, must be something truly special. But you can't always have everything.
Nara was happy, and the rest of us were just as pleased with how the day had turned out.
One last walk beneath the viaduct's arches, and then it was time to head back uphill to the station.
As we were in the middle of nowhere, there weren't many options for lunch. In fact, there was only one: an old railway carriage beside the station that had been converted into a small café.
After lunch, we mailed our traditional postcards, something we do on every trip. One was for my parents back home in Slovenia, the other for a friend in Denver, Colorado, with whom I had travelled across Argentina all the way to Ushuaia, the world's southernmost city, many years ago.
The postcard to Slovenia took a full month to arrive.
The very same train that had brought us to Glenfinnan later carried us back to Fort William. This time, finding our seats was much easier.
On the walk back to our accommodation, we noticed boat trips on the loch advertising the chance to spot seals.
The plan for the following day suddenly became very clear.
We started the morning the way every good travel day should begin: with a cup of Barcaffè on our favorite bench at the edge of Drumnadrochit, right in the heart of the Scottish Highlands. Beside us, a small stream flowed gently by, providing the perfect soundtrack to another day on the road.
At last, it was time to leave. Anja and I put on our backpacks and set off for the next stage of our journey.
Since we were staying in four different locations across Scotland, travelling with backpacks was really the only practical choice. They gave us far more freedom to move around. Changing from trains to buses, and then walking to each new accommodation, was much easier than dragging suitcases across platforms, pavements, and cobbled streets.
We had already travelled this way in Portugal, making our way from Porto to Nazaré and then on to Lisbon. It worked so well that we decided to do the same in Scotland.
To be honest, backpacks have only one real downside. If you don't pack them carefully and suddenly need something that ended up at the very bottom, it doesn't take long before half your clothes are scattered all over the room.
Once again, Anja proved to be much better organised than I was. She had packed everything thoughtfully before we left home, so throughout the trip she always knew exactly where everything was. Everyone has their own strengths.
Before long, we were standing at the bus stop. I had bought our tickets a few months earlier through the Citylink app. I had read that this route could get quite busy, so I decided to book them in advance, just to be on the safe side.
Across the Scottish Highlands on a Double Decker Bus
It's not something you expect. In the middle of nowhere, in a tiny village with a name that's almost impossible to pronounce, a double decker bus pulls up to collect you.
But that's exactly what happened.
As if that wasn't enough, the driver turned out to be the very same one who had brought us here a few days earlier. We placed our backpacks in the luggage compartment and, naturally, headed straight upstairs. There was plenty of room, so we could choose whichever seats we liked. At the beginning of the season, seat reservations clearly aren't essential, although it's still reassuring to have them.
Even though we were far from any major towns, the buses here run surprisingly often. If I counted correctly, there are nine services a day on this route. It connects Inverness in the north with Fort William in the south and is one of the main transport links through the Scottish Highlands.
Over the years, we've covered plenty of miles by bus during our travels, and most of those journeys have been excellent. There have been a few memorable exceptions, though. I still remember the adrenaline-filled ride along the narrow Irish roads to the Cliffs of Moher, and the winding mountain route to Ronda in Andalusia.
Scotland has a well-developed bus network, and with a little planning you can reach even some of the more remote corners of the Highlands. Even so, if I had the choice, I would still pick the train every time.
Our next accommodation was about an hour and a half away. Something told me this journey was not going to be boring.
Great Glen: The Valley That Splits Scotland in Two
We waved goodbye to Drumnadrochit as the bus climbed the hill we had walked the day before. One last time, we caught sight of the haunting ruins of Urquhart Castle before they disappeared from view.
If you ever travel this route, choose a seat on the left-hand side of the bus. On the right, you'll spend most of the journey looking at forests and hillsides, while the left side offers almost constant views of Loch Ness. At least there, you have a tiny chance of spotting the legendary Nessie. On the right, that chance is pretty much zero.
The Great Glen is not only one of Scotland's most famous valleys, but also the natural corridor through the Highlands. Stretching for almost 100 kilometres, it has connected the north and south of the country for thousands of years. A road, a long-distance hiking trail, and an inland waterway of lochs and canals all follow the same route, offering different ways to experience this remarkable landscape. Whichever you choose, you're surrounded by spectacular scenery from start to finish.
During the first part of the journey, Loch Ness is your constant companion. Much of its shoreline is covered with trees, so you rarely see the loch in its full width, although every now and then the view opens up. As we travelled on, the sky grew darker. The sun kept trying to break through the clouds, but never quite managed it.
In a way, that slightly darker atmosphere suited the loch perfectly. It made the entire landscape feel even more mysterious.
The first houses begin to appear, and before long you arrive in Fort Augustus, a small village at the southern end of Loch Ness. This is where Loch Ness ends. Or begins. It all depends on which direction you're travelling.
Fort Augustus is best known for the Caledonian Canal, which runs right through the centre of the village. The canal was built to provide ships with a safer route between Scotland's east and west coasts by linking four lochs, allowing them to avoid the often dangerous waters around the country's northern coastline.
The hills rise steeply from the valley, and by now Loch Ness is well behind you. Wherever the landscape levels out, even just a little, you'll find open pastures stretching across the valley floor. In the distance, the first patches of snow are already visible on the mountain peaks.
It doesn't take long before another loch comes into view. Soon, the waters of Loch Lochy open up before you. Unlike the darker, more mysterious Loch Ness, its shores are far less wooded, giving you wide, uninterrupted views across the water and making the scenery feel even more spectacular.
This was one of the most beautiful stretches of the entire journey. The landscape seemed to be painted in every imaginable shade of green. Then the snow-capped peaks that had been following us in the distance finally came into full view.
These mountains form the highest part of the Scottish Highlands and the highest range anywhere in the British Isles. As you travel along the loch through the valley, it feels as though you've already climbed high into the mountains. In reality, though, it's just an illusion.
Gradually, the first houses begin to appear again. We were getting close to our destination for the day.
Just before the bus reached the town, two enormous steel pipes caught our attention on the hillside. They ran straight down the steep slope, and none of us could work out why they were there. It wasn't until later that we discovered they were part of a hydroelectric power station. Water is channelled down these pipes from a reservoir higher up the mountain to turbines below, generating electricity for the area.
After spending hours surrounded by such untouched scenery, seeing industrial structures like these came as a bit of a surprise. But clearly, they're there for a reason.
Then a long pier comes into view, and a minute later the bus pulls into Fort William bus station.
Another destination lies ahead. A new place to explore, a new accommodation to settle into, and hopefully another memorable adventure in the heart of the Scottish Highlands.
Fort William: Beneath Ben Nevis
The bus station sits right next to the railway station, so there's no complicated logistics to worry about. We took our first steps through Fort William, a town on the shores of Loch Linnhe, a sea loch known for its impressive tides, where the difference between high and low water can exceed four metres. Suddenly, that long pier we had just seen made perfect sense.
On one side of the town lies the loch, while on the other rises Ben Nevis. At 1,345 metres, it may not seem particularly high by international standards, but it is the tallest mountain in the United Kingdom. Because it rises almost directly from sea level, it looks far more imposing than its elevation suggests.
Although Fort William is a relatively small town, it has much more to offer than first meets the eye. This is where the Caledonian Canal begins, the same waterway that accompanied us for much of today's journey. It's also home to the famous West Highland Line, often described as one of the most scenic railway routes in the world. In a few days, we'll be travelling along it ourselves on our way to Glasgow.
If Edinburgh has the Royal Mile, Fort William has its High Street, a long, almost perfectly straight street where you'll find almost everything a visitor could need.
When we stopped in front of the welcome sign in Drumnadrochit a couple of days earlier, we all felt as if we had suddenly forgotten how to read. Of course, we hadn't. The sign was written in Scottish Gaelic, a Celtic language now spoken by only a small minority of Scotland's population. Before long, we were greeted by a similar sign in Fort William.
Scottish Gaelic is one of the oldest languages in the British Isles. Although you rarely hear it spoken in everyday life, the Scots continue to treat it with great respect. That's why many town signs, railway stations, and official notices are still bilingual, helping to preserve a language that remains an important part of Scotland's history and cultural identity.
After collecting the keys, we settled into what was already our third home of the trip. We weren't in the mood to unpack just yet, and it was already time for lunch, so we headed back down to the High Street.
With plenty of the afternoon still ahead of us, we set out for a relaxed walk around town after lunch. Everywhere you look there are churches, characterful old buildings, and, of course, pubs proudly advertising an impressive selection of Scottish whisky.
The weather changes incredibly quickly here. One moment we were caught in the rain on the High Street, so we ducked into a souvenir shop. Five minutes later, having found nothing that caught our eye, we stepped back outside into bright sunshine.
That was enough for one day. Our accommodation was a little way up the hillside, but those extra steps were more than rewarded with an evening view across Loch Linnhe.
Tomorrow, we'll be exploring the beginning of the Caledonian Canal, the famous Neptune's Staircase, and the Glenfinnan Viaduct, home to one of the most iconic scenes from the Harry Potter films.
Will it be as magical as it looks on the big screen?
Today was the first day we finally got a proper night's sleep.
When you open your eyes and see a small stream flowing right past your accommodation, the day begins differently than it does in a city. Not that there was anything wrong with our time in Edinburgh, but here in Drumnadrochit, almost in the middle of nowhere, everything felt more relaxed. Somehow, it just made sense.
For years, I've been using Booking to book our accommodation. We've had great experiences with it in London, Paris, Washington, New York, Dublin, Porto, Lisbon, Rome and Barcelona. The place I remember most is still the apartment in Nazaré overlooking the beach and the cliffs where the world's biggest waves are born. But this accommodation in Drumnadrochit would take second place without hesitation.
The only thing I've never really liked about booking accommodation is breakfast. Paying €15 per person, whether it's an adult or a child, has never seemed particularly reasonable to me. Children usually eat nothing more than a bowl of cereal or a slice of bread with a spread, so we prefer to find a nearby supermarket or bakery and have breakfast our own way.
We started the morning on the same bench where we had ended the previous evening. For most people, it would have been a perfectly ordinary way to begin the day. For me, it meant something much more. It was the fulfilment of something I had wanted for a very long time.
When I was about the same age as our girls are today, I kept reading a book about the world's greatest mysteries. Of all the stories, the one that fascinated me most was about the mysterious Loch Ness, where people claimed to have seen a strange creature from a distant past.
I read that chapter countless times. Again and again, I imagined what it would be like to stand there one day. Back then, I made myself a promise that when I grew up, I would visit this mysterious place.
Well, now I've grown up.
And today was finally that day.
Over the Hill
Our accommodation was at the far end of the village, which turned out to be an advantage in its own way. The supermarket was close by, but I wasn't sure whether the local bus stopped there or if we would have to walk up to the main stop. Later, we discovered that it did stop nearby. Since we didn't know that at the time, we had no choice but to walk to the lake. Looking back at the end of the day, it was definitely the right decision.
Not long after leaving Bunk Inn Loch Ness, you cross the small bridge over the stream that had made our stay here even more enjoyable. On the other side is a well maintained path for walkers and cyclists, while to the right you'll find a campsite for motorhomes and tents. The path stretching ahead, the green meadows all around us, and the clouds gathering above combined to create this beautiful view.
The path then begins to climb gently. With every step higher, the view over Loch Ness gradually opens up before you.
As we walked, I told the girls the legend I had read so many times as a child. Although I've seen many lakes over the years, you look at Loch Ness differently. Not only through the eyes of an adult, but also with the curiosity of a child. Your gaze keeps drifting towards the water and the distant waves. You know it's only a legend, yet somewhere deep inside you still hope you'll catch a glimpse of something.
When we were almost at the top of the hill, Nia suddenly pointed towards the lake.
"Look, there's something!"
For a few seconds, we all stood still. What if...
But it was only a floating buoy, most likely marking the position of a diver.
The excitement, however, was completely real.
So was the disappointment a moment later.
Still, those few seconds when we all wanted to believe that we had really spotted something extraordinary are a memory we'll keep forever.
When Loch Ness Opens Up Beneath You
From the top of the hill, the meadow drops steeply all the way down to the shores of Loch Ness. Sheep were everywhere here as well. One of them kept watching us suspiciously the entire time. Jokingly, we decided it must have been keeping an eye out for Nessie.
All around us was the same distinctive yellow shrubland we had been seeing throughout Scotland ever since leaving Edinburgh. The bright yellow creates a beautiful contrast with the deep blue waters of Loch Ness, making the view truly unforgettable.
And then, nestled among the yellow shrubs, you catch your first glimpse of the ruins of Urquhart Castle.
At last, you are standing here. After a few minutes, the girls had to start hurrying me along because I kept wanting to take just one more photograph.
By the time I caught up with them, they were already waiting at the entrance. Tickets for the four of us came to around €50. But this was one of those places I would have visited regardless of the price.
In the end, Anja was one step ahead of me. While I was still taking photos, she had already bought the tickets. She knew how much this visit meant to me.
A winding staircase first leads you down to the lower level, where you'll find the gift shop. Unsurprisingly, Nessie is everywhere. On mugs, T-shirts, notebooks, magnets and key rings. Wherever you look, it's all Nessie and the castle.
For years, I've liked bringing home something small from every trip. Eventually I started collecting souvenir coins. They take up almost no space, yet each one instantly takes me back to the place where we bought it. Nia, meanwhile, collects snow globes from the places we visit, and her collection grows a little larger every year.
Despite the rather high price, I bought one in the end.
In the next room, a short film about the history of Urquhart Castle was just beginning.
That's where we learned why the castle was so important.
Because of its strategic position on the shores of Loch Ness, it controlled one of the main routes through the Scottish Highlands for centuries. As a result, it was fought over time and again by the Scots and the English, and later by powerful Highland clans.
The film was coming to an end, followed by something that was genuinely brilliant.
In the final scene, you see Urquhart Castle as it once stood at the height of its power. Then the screen slowly opens in the middle, revealing the real ruins standing right in front of you.
Among the Ruins
There were a fair number of visitors, but it never felt crowded, so we were able to explore the castle at our own pace.
As you make your way down through the ruins, you're greeted by a replica of a trebuchet standing beside a beautifully maintained lawn. This medieval siege engine was once used to hurl massive stones at castle walls in an attempt to breach their defences.
Soon afterwards, you cross the former defensive ditch and step into the castle ruins.
One of the things that makes Urquhart Castle so special is its varied layout. You don't simply follow one flat path. Instead, you are constantly climbing and descending between different parts of the castle, with every turn revealing something new.
You walk through the remains of the Great Hall, where lavish banquets were once held, past the private quarters of the castle's lords, the chapel, the stables, the dovecot, and the imposing Grant Tower. Beside each set of ruins, an illustration shows what that part of the castle looked like centuries ago.
We also made our way down to the very edge of the lake, where the castle's harbour once stood. In those days, the Water Gate served as the main entrance for anyone arriving by boat across Loch Ness.
Throughout our visit, we kept glancing across the surface of the lake, hoping that something unusual might finally appear.
Nothing.
So we decided to climb a little higher.
If Nessie wasn't coming to us, we'd go looking for a better viewpoint.
Somewhere near the top, we suddenly heard a familiar language.
Slovene.
The first Slovenians we had met on our journey.
Three generations of one family were travelling around Scotland by car, but in the opposite direction to us. We exchanged a few travel tips before wishing each other a safe journey.
When I looked back towards the tower below, it finally sank in that I had fulfilled another childhood dream. After seeing whales, crossing the Arctic Circle, and standing at the westernmost point of mainland Europe, I was now standing at Urquhart Castle, scanning the waters for Nessie.
We stayed there for more than an hour.
A cold wind blew the entire time, so the hats we had brought with us were far from unnecessary.
Despite our persistent watch over the water, Nessie had clearly decided to remain a legend for a little while longer.
Legend or not, the views alone made the visit worthwhile.
Cows with Hairstyles
In the morning, the walk over the hill had felt almost magical. Every bend in the path made us wonder what we would see next. But when it was time to head back, the idea of crossing the hill all over again suddenly seemed far less appealing. So we decided to wait for the bus instead.
We got off at the upper end of the village, knowing we still had plenty of the afternoon ahead of us. First, we stopped for lunch before exploring this part of Drumnadrochit. There are a few more shops here, and the village even has its own distillery, so there's certainly no shortage of Scottish whisky.
There was only one thing left to do before returning to our accommodation: the walk back. This time, we didn't mind it at all. We had a very good reason.
We had spotted them on our very first day.
Highland cattle.
These are no ordinary cows. You recognise them instantly by their long, curved horns and their thick, shaggy coats, which often cover their eyes completely. They look as though they've been putting off a visit to the hairdresser for years.
That long hair isn't just part of their charm. It's perfectly adapted to life in the Highlands, protecting them from wind, rain and harsh winters, allowing them to live outdoors almost all year round.
Today, Highland cattle are among Scotland's most recognisable symbols. You'll find them on postcards, magnets, calendars and in just about every souvenir shop. But when you're standing only a few metres away from them, it's easy to understand why they've become so popular. Despite their impressive horns, they seem remarkably calm, and their wonderfully untidy "hairstyles" give them an almost cartoon-like appearance.
They're simply great fun to watch, as long as you're on the right side of the fence.
Sometimes the Best Days Are the Ones You Don't Rush
Today was the fifth day of our journey, which meant we were roughly halfway through the trip. From the very beginning, we had planned this day to be a slower one.
The more we travel, the more I feel that it's sometimes better to skip a sight or two and spend an extra day in a place you're already enjoying. It makes the whole journey feel more relaxed, and you get to experience a destination instead of simply ticking it off a list.
Giving Drumnadrochit an entire day turned out to be exactly the right decision.
Tomorrow, we'll be moving on once again, this time by bus to Fort William. Before this trip, I knew almost nothing about the town, apart from the fact that it lies beneath Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in the United Kingdom.
So far, everything has gone just as we had hoped. We're already looking forward to discovering what tomorrow will bring.
Scotland had been on our travel wish list for a long time. The only obstacle was finding suitable flights from Slovenia, which were usually either inconvenient or too expensive. When EasyJet introduced a direct route from Ljubljana, there was nothing left to think about. The tickets were booked. It really was that simple.
Then came the more challenging part: finding a solution and putting together a plan that would actually work.
How do you explore Scotland without a car?
Renting a car was never a serious option for us. Maybe we would have considered it if we had been traveling as a couple, but even then I'm not sure we would have chosen that route. Driving on the left side of the road had never appealed to us. Traveling with our two daughters made the decision even easier.
Since we almost always rely on public transportation when we travel, the choice was quite straightforward. We would explore Scotland by train and bus.
The first step was booking our train tickets from Edinburgh to Inverness. I bought them about two months before departure through the Trainline app and quickly realized that booking early really pays off. Had I waited until just before the trip, the same tickets would have cost several times more.
Another advantage is that you can choose your seats when booking. At that moment, it feels like everything is under control. Or at least that's what I thought. Later we discovered that having reserved seats doesn't always mean you'll actually get to sit in them.
One purchase that proved especially worthwhile was the Family & Friends Railcard. It is valid for two years and gives families significant discounts on train travel. If you're planning several rail journeys around Scotland, it quickly pays for itself.
There are several trains a day between Edinburgh and Inverness, giving you plenty of departure options. That's especially useful if Inverness isn't your final destination. Since we wanted to spend our first night by Loch Ness, we still had about a thirty-minute bus ride ahead of us to the village of Drumnadrochit.
I deliberately didn't buy the bus tickets in advance. The train journey takes almost four hours, and I didn't want to worry about what might happen if our train was delayed. Since buses run frequently, we had no trouble buying our tickets after arriving in Inverness.
In the end, all of our concerns about traveling this way turned out to be unnecessary. Exploring Scotland without a car is not only possible, but surprisingly easy. Instead of concentrating on driving on the left side of the road, I could simply look out of the window and watch the landscape gradually change as the Scottish Highlands unfolded before us.
The train journey wasn't just a way of getting from one place to another. It became an important part of the experience of discovering Scotland.
Departure
The entire planning of our eleven-day trip was shaped by one simple idea: we would not need a car. That is why we chose our accommodation mainly based on its proximity to train and bus stations.
In Edinburgh, we stayed just a five-minute walk from Haymarket Station, one of the city’s main transport hubs. This meant that arriving from the airport, and later leaving for the north, was not particularly complicated.
This day was entirely about moving north. Trains run frequently, but I chose a morning train just before nine. That way, we would not have to get up in the middle of the night, and we would still arrive in Inverness early enough to have a calm look around before continuing by bus towards Loch Ness.
The platform was full of people, but I was not too concerned. We had our tickets, our seats were reserved, and I also knew which carriage we needed to be in.
At first, I had to find somewhere to put our two large backpacks. The few luggage racks were already full, so I tried to squeeze them into the corner near the bicycle storage area.
Meanwhile, I told the girls to find our seats.
Just as I was trying to fit the last backpack into place, they came back.
"Our seats aren't there."
For a moment, I just stood there.
What do you mean they aren't there?
I went to check for myself.
They really weren't.
The carriage was completely full. Finding four empty seats together was out of the question.
Now what?
Just then, a member of the onboard catering team walked past with a trolley of snacks. I asked him what was going on.
He explained that, due to technical problems, they had to replace the scheduled train. Instead of the planned six-carriage train, only a three-carriage train had arrived, so the seat reservations were no longer valid.
In the end, we found four empty seats scattered throughout the carriage and ended up sitting separately, as if we had fallen out with each other.
I should add that the staff later apologized several times for the inconvenience.
Once the initial frustration faded and I saw that the girls were perfectly happy, I relaxed as well. I turned my attention to the view outside the window. Scotland lay ahead.
Unlike the bus, which leaves Edinburgh and heads north almost immediately, although the journey takes a little longer, the railway first curves west before continuing towards the Scottish Highlands.
Heading North
The train quickly gathers speed as it passes the suburbs of Edinburgh, and before long, the city is behind us. A city that had completely won us over in just two and a half days. You can't help wondering what the rest of the journey will bring. If it has started this well, what awaits us in the north?
By the way, Edinburgh didn't show us its most famous side during our visit. In two and a half days, not a single drop of rain fell. We enjoyed sunshine, temperatures of around 15°C, and only a light breeze. For Scotland, the weather was almost unbelievable.
Once the city finally disappears beyond the horizon, the landscape begins to take on that unmistakable Scottish character. Large fields of bright yellow rapeseed stretch between stone walls and isolated farmhouses, creating, together with the lush green meadows, a scene that stays with you from the very first miles of the journey.
Vlak mirno drsi skozi manjše kraje. Tu cerkev, tam graščina, malo naprej osamljena kamnita hiša. Kamen je skoraj povsod glavni gradbeni material in pokrajini daje povsem drugačen videz.
Braveheart
As the train approaches Falkirk, an unusual steel structure briefly appears among the trees on the left. The train passes it in a matter of seconds, but it is almost impossible to miss. It is the Falkirk Wheel, the world's only rotating boat lift, built to connect two canals at different heights.
As you travel north, it almost feels as though you are traveling back through time. Between Falkirk and Stirling, the railway passes places closely connected to the story of William Wallace. Near Stirling, he won his greatest victory, defeating a much larger English army against all odds. Near Falkirk, which we had just passed, he suffered his greatest defeat less than a year later. Yet it did not bring an end to his story. Instead, he became a lasting symbol of Scotland's fight for freedom.
As the train approaches Stirling, the impressive Wallace Monument comes into view on a hilltop. Built nearly six centuries after his death, it still stands today as a tribute to the man whose story was introduced to the world by the film Braveheart.
As the tower slowly disappears around the bend, the railway line finally turns north.
Into the Scottish Highlands
The landscape begins to change. Gentle hills gradually give way to higher ground, small lochs start appearing beside the railway, and near Perth the train crosses its first major river, a quiet sign that the Scottish Highlands are just ahead.
Many passengers got off here, so at last we were able to sit together.
If there is one thing this railway has in abundance, it is sheep. Wherever you look, they are there. Meadow after meadow, flock after flock. White, black, adults, lambs. They are almost impossible to count. Even where it seems there is nothing but grass, another flock is usually grazing in the distance.
Beyond Perth, the railway begins its climb into the Scottish Highlands. Forests gradually give way to the open moorlands of the Cairngorms National Park. The landscape becomes increasingly vast, the trees begin to disappear, streams run alongside the tracks, and rounded peaks rise in the distance, with patches of snow still visible even in late April.
By this point, it already feels as though you are high in the mountains. Then, in a split second, a sign flashes past the window. Highest Point on Rail Network. Out of the corner of your eye, you just manage to catch the number above it.
453 metres.
I have to admit, I expected it to be much higher. But that is exactly the charm of the Scottish Highlands. They do not impress with their elevation, but with their endless sense of openness and wilderness. It feels as though you are travelling far into the north.
By then, you are no longer thinking about how many miles remain before Inverness. You simply sit by the window and enjoy the view. It was moments like these that convinced me we had made the right decision to travel by train.
Inverness
During the final part of the journey, the landscape changes once again. As the train descends, it crosses numerous bridges spanning rivers and streams, each offering beautiful views of the surrounding countryside. In the distance, wind turbines slowly turn, while the bright yellow rapeseed fields of the south give way to dense yellow gorse, a familiar feature of this part of Scotland.
We stepped off the train just after noon. The platform was busy, which came as no surprise. Inverness is the main transport hub of the Scottish Highlands and the starting point for exploring the northern part of the country. From here, routes branch off towards Loch Ness, the Isle of Skye, the North Coast, and many other remote corners of the Highlands.
Our first stop was the bus station, located right next to the railway station. We bought our tickets, left our backpacks in the luggage lockers, and headed into the city.
Just a few minutes later, as you step out of a narrow street onto the banks of the River Ness, one of Inverness's finest views opens up before you. On the opposite bank stands a row of stone buildings, while on this side the slender spire of the Gothic cathedral rises above the river. Behind you, perched on a hill, stands Inverness Castle.
It feels as though someone had set out to capture everything you imagine Scotland to be within just a few hundred metres.
Just below the castle, we found a restaurant for lunch before crossing the bridge to the other side of the river. The River Ness is neither blue nor green, but a light brownish orange. As I later discovered, its distinctive colour comes from the many peat bogs in its upper catchment, which naturally tint the water.
As we walked back across the bridge, a strong wind suddenly picked up. At that very moment, a street musician began playing Dylan's Blowin' in the Wind. Coincidence or not, the song could not have matched the moment more perfectly. The wind carried the melody along the river as we slowly made our way past a traditional Scottish cemetery and back towards the bus station.
One final journey still lay ahead, taking us to the place said to be home to Scotland's most famous legend.
Drumnadrochit (Dram-na-DRO-hit)
While waiting for the right bus, I spent the time practising the pronunciation of the village that was our destination for the day: Drumnadrochit. Somehow, the combination of letters ch almost guarantees that you'll pronounce it incorrectly the first time. ch vedno pripravi do tega, da ime izgovoriš narobe.
Before we set off, the driver introduced himself over the loudspeaker and gave everyone a warm welcome. After sharing a few practical announcements, he reminded passengers that drinking alcohol and smoking were not allowed on the bus. Then, with a smile, he added that if anyone happened to need the toilet or suddenly felt like a cigarette along the way, they should just let him know and he would make a short stop.
It was obvious that he genuinely enjoyed his job. And this wasn't a tourist coach, but an ordinary scheduled bus service.
That alone puts you in a good mood from the very beginning of the journey. In fact, throughout this trip we met more smiling, relaxed, and genuinely friendly people than anywhere else we had travelled. And they were all at work. There is a difference between the kind of friendliness a job requires and the kind that comes naturally. Here in Scotland, we encountered the latter again and again.
Just a few minutes after leaving Inverness, Scotland's most famous loch comes into view on the left: Loch Ness. Stretching for almost 37 kilometres, it is one of the country's largest lochs. Its great depth and dark, peat-stained water give it an atmosphere of mystery that never quite disappears.
The bus covered the miles quickly. For most of the journey, the trees hide the loch from view, but every now and then they part just enough to reveal a glimpse of the legendary Loch Ness, said to conceal the prehistoric creature affectionately known as Nessie somewhere in its deep waters.
Just before reaching Drumnadrochit, the ruins of Urquhart Castle come into view on a rocky headland. This is the very castle that appears in almost every documentary whenever the mysteries of Loch Ness are explored.
At the End of the Village
The bus stop is at one end of the village, while our accommodation was almost at the other, so we still had a short walk ahead of us. But it was anything but boring.
Within a few minutes, we caught our first glimpse of the famous Highland cattle. With their long horns and shaggy fringes covering their eyes, they looked as though they were badly in need of a haircut.
A little farther on, we passed a field where people were playing hockey, and another where a game of bowls was underway. Both on grass, of course.
At last, we arrived. A cosy family apartment with bunk beds was waiting for us, just the right size for the next two nights.
For a while, we considered walking down to the loch. Then we noticed a small stream flowing right beside the house. The sun was still pleasantly warm, and a few wooden benches stood along the water's edge.
Our plan for an evening walk was forgotten in an instant. I went to buy two Cokes and two beers.
There would be plenty of time for the loch tomorrow.
After breaking the ice with our first Uber ride yesterday, we had no hesitation about booking another one today. This time, our driver dropped us off slightly lower down than the day before, so we were immediately greeted by a short climb up a set of steep steps.
A few more steps along a narrow street, a turn to the left, and suddenly you are standing on the Castle Esplanade, the large open space directly in front of the entrance to one of Scotland’s most iconic landmarks.
This is the setting for countless ceremonies, military parades, and the famous Edinburgh Military Tattoo, which attracts visitors from all over the world every summer. Rising above it all is Edinburgh Castle.
Massive. Multi-layered. With its pale sandstone near the entrance and darker stone walls higher up on the rock, it looks almost impossible to conquer.
Even though we had admired it from nearly every possible angle the day before, seeing it up close was impressive all over again. The queue in front of it, slightly less so. Still, it was not too bad.
I had bought our tickets about a month earlier through the official website, which has become standard practice for the most popular attractions on our trips. I chose the earliest entry slot available, because it leaves the rest of the day completely open and free from constantly checking the time.
The line slowly stretched all the way to the beginning of the Royal Mile. When I looked in that direction, my eyes stopped on the dome of Camera Obscura, where we had been only the day before.
In the dark room, we had watched through an old optical system as a line of visitors slowly formed below us. Exactly the kind of line we were standing in today.
Up there, it had all seemed quite amusing.
Down here, you do not really care.
Still, the feeling that someone might be watching you from that dark dome above the city somehow lingers in the back of your mind.
This time, we were the ones who had become part of the show.
Through the Gates of Scottish History
At exactly half past nine, the castle gates opened to visitors.
The first thing you encounter is a short bridge crossing a defensive ditch some five meters below.
Above the entrance, I notice a red lion on a yellow background that somehow resembles the Ferrari emblem from a distance.
Of course, it has nothing to do with Ferrari.
It is the Royal Banner of Scotland. Beneath it is a Latin motto that can be translated roughly as:
No one provokes me with impunity.
Quite fitting, really.
Everything here was designed for defense.
Beyond the gate, the path turns uphill to the right. Ahead of you, another wall rises up, blocking access to the inner parts of the castle. It almost looks as if the fortifications are growing directly out of the volcanic rock itself.
Back then, attackers had to fight their way up the slope, squeezed between high walls, with no possibility of retreat or escape.
There was nowhere to go.
Well, today you do have a choice.
You can turn right and visit the gift shop.
But where had we actually entered?
Edinburgh Castle does not stand on an ordinary hill, but on top of an ancient volcano. One look at the steep cliffs below is enough to understand why this was an almost perfect location for a fortress.
Over the centuries, it became one of the most important royal strongholds in the British Isles. It served as a royal residence, a military fortress, a prison for prisoners of war, and a symbol of Scottish independence. Because of its strategic position, it has been besieged more times than any other place in Great Britain.
After just the first few steps, one thing becomes clear. You have not entered an ordinary tourist attraction.
You have stepped into a place where more than a thousand years of Scottish history were written.
Argyle Battery
About a hundred meters farther uphill, another gate awaits you.
This one is considerably more imposing.
The walls are so thick that it almost feels as though you are walking through a stone tunnel. Above your head, you can still see the iron points where the old portcullis once stood, ready to slam shut and seal the passage in an instant.
If you are a visitor, you simply keep walking.
If you were an attacker centuries ago, you had yet another problem to deal with.
Just beyond the gate, you find yourself in the first open space since entering the castle, no longer hemmed in by towering walls.
You step onto the Argyle Battery, one of the castle’s most recognizable gun batteries. A line of cannons stands along the ramparts, once guarding the northern side of the city.
You slowly make your way along the ramparts, looking down at the city through the narrow embrasures. Where a city park stretches out today, there was once a loch that, together with the steep slopes below the castle, formed an additional line of defense for the fortress.
Today, however, most attention goes to the famous One O'Clock Gun. Every day at one o'clock in the afternoon, the cannon still echoes across Edinburgh, continuing a tradition that is now more than 160 years old.
We spent two days in Edinburgh.
Which means the cannon fired twice.
And both times, we somehow managed to miss it.
Or simply not hear it.
Among Barracks and Scottish Regiments
From the gun battery, we followed a steep stone slope down to the part of the castle that once housed soldiers and is now home to the National War Museum of Scotland.
Instead, we climbed up onto the ramparts, where a view over much of western Edinburgh unfolds before you.
We had come across a similar view in Lisbon, standing on the walls of São Jorge Castle and looking out over the old city and the famous red bridge spanning the River Tagus.
But I liked this one more.
Probably because of all the buildings surrounding you and the fact that the castle stands on top of an ancient volcano. The sheer cliffs beneath your feet still make that remarkably clear today.
Whoever controlled the castle controlled Edinburgh.
As we continued, we also visited the museum of the Royal Scots Regiment. Its history stretches from the Battle of Waterloo all the way to military operations in the Balkans at the end of the twentieth century.
Considering that even the girls made it through without much complaining, it was clearly interesting enough.
The military section of the castle was slowly falling behind us. Ahead lay the oldest and most important part of the entire fortress, only some fifty meters away.
The final stretch, however, was also the steepest.
Today, it is known as Hawk Hill, named after the royal falconry that once took place in this part of the castle.
On Top of an Extinct Volcano
Another gate.
Another line of defense.
Another reminder that the top of the castle was never meant for everyone.
If you had made it this far as an attacker, the castle was almost yours.
Today, you do not get the castle, but you are immediately greeted on the left by a whisky shop, dedicated to another king of Scottish identity.
Here, whisky is far more than just a drink.
It is part of the country's culture, history, and national pride.
But it was still a little too early for whisky.
We found ourselves a bench at the top, enjoyed the morning sunshine, and simply watched the world around us.
Just behind us stood St Margaret’s Chapel. Surrounded by cannons, ramparts, and military buildings, it looks almost modest.
Then you read that it is the oldest surviving building in Edinburgh.
Apparently, it survived precisely because of that modesty.
Standing in front of the chapel is a cannon.
Mons Meg.
If the chapel is the smallest and oldest building in the castle, then Mons Meg is probably its most brutal resident.
It is one of the largest medieval cannons in the world. Weighing seven tons, it fired stone cannonballs of nearly 200 kilograms and served as a symbol of Scottish military power.
Then you walk to the edge of the ramparts and notice something completely unexpected below.
A small dog cemetery, where pets that once accompanied military commanders and Scottish regiments were laid to rest
There was a place for them too, here at the top of Edinburgh.
Symbols of Scotland
And with that, our tour of the upper part of the castle was almost complete.
Only the main section remained.
The Royal Palace.
You pass through a narrow gateway and step into a courtyard enclosed on all four sides by tall buildings.
Whether you want it to or not, the place leaves an impression on you.
It was here that an important part of Scotland’s history was written over the centuries. Kings and queens walked across this courtyard, coronations took place here, and decisions were made that shaped the fate of an entire nation.
Given Scotland’s turbulent past, you probably do not even want to know everything this courtyard has witnessed over nearly a thousand years.
Kings. Queens. Coronations. Plots. Wars with England.
And that is why Edinburgh Castle is not just another old fortress.
It is one of Scotland’s national symbols.
We stepped into the Royal Palace. A few steps upward, and new symbols were already waiting for us.
Royal ones.
A crown. A sceptre. A sword.
No photography allowed.
With a steady stream of visitors arriving behind us, we had to keep moving. To be completely honest, I have already forgotten exactly what those symbols looked like. Good thing I had taken a few photos beforehand.
To finish our visit, we stepped into the Great Hall. The royal banquets disappeared long ago, but the walls are still lined with swords, axes, spears, and other weapons, giving the room more the feel of an armoury than a former royal hall.
We passed through a narrow gateway, left the royal courtyard behind, and took one last look back at the castle as we made our way down.
Just under three hours later, we found ourselves once again standing at the beginning of Edinburgh’s most famous street.
The Royal Mile
The Royal Mile is a little under two kilometres long and lined with the city's characteristic stone buildings. It connects Edinburgh Castle with the Palace of Holyroodhouse. For centuries, it was walked by kings, soldiers, and merchants.
Today, it belongs mostly to tourists.
Right at the beginning, I stepped into a souvenir shop to buy postcards, something we always send from our travels.
When the shop assistant asked what kind of stamps I needed, I explained that I wanted one for Europe and one for America.
"Okay, two international stamps," she replied.
No, I insisted, one for Europe and one for America.
And again, the same answer.
International.
Right. Of course.
Scotland is no longer part of the European Union.
After that brief lesson in political geography, we continued along the Royal Mile, passing our acquaintance from the previous day, the bagpiper, who was once again playing away and creating the perfect Scottish atmosphere.
Slowly, we approached St Giles' Cathedral, its crown-shaped tower rising above the surrounding buildings and impossible to miss.
They say it is the only cathedral in the world to feature an angel playing the bagpipes.
Once inside, though, the church feels different from those we are used to at home. Instead of a long view toward a grand altar, the space opens out around the center of the nave.
As for the angel playing the bagpipes, I cannot tell you very much about it. For reasons unknown to me, the doors to the part of the cathedral where it is supposed to be located were locked.
But apparently, it does exist.
Behind the cathedral stands the Supreme Courts building. With its large columns, it looks somewhat different from the surrounding structures, although after two days in Edinburgh, it felt as though we had already seen every possible variation of a stone facade.
Across the street, we also stopped to see J. K. Rowling's handprints. In stone, of course.
To our biggest Harry Potter enthusiast, Nara, they were almost a perfect fit.
A little farther down, we were supposed to visit a house that promises to take you back several centuries.
John Knox House, one of the oldest houses in Edinburgh.
Its wooden beams, dark facade, and slightly leaning structure are said to make it feel as though time stopped more than four hundred years ago.
At least, that is what the sign said.
What we mostly saw was scaffolding.
Somewhere around here, the crowds begin to thin out. Most visitors apparently never make it all the way to the end of the Royal Mile, so we walked the final stretch toward Holyroodhouse almost entirely on our own.
This royal residence was home to Scottish kings and queens for centuries. Mary, Queen of Scots, probably Scotland's most famous monarch, also lived here for a time before a life filled with plots and political struggles eventually led her to the executioner's block in England.
We spent a little more time at the Scottish Parliament on the opposite side of the road.
If, just a few hours earlier, you had been standing in front of a chapel nearly a thousand years old and walking past rows of straight stone facades, what suddenly appears before you now feels completely different.
Curved wooden forms, unusual windows, and irregular lines create a striking contrast with everything you have seen so far along the Royal Mile.
It does not represent the old Scotland of kings and castles, but a modern Scotland that, after almost three centuries, once again makes decisions about its own affairs.
As we stood there, soaking up the afternoon sunshine and looking toward Arthur's Seat, which seems surprisingly close from here, we came up with an idea. After all that stone, perhaps we should end the day a little differently.
Phone out.
Uber.
Booked.
Five minutes later, we were already on our way...
To the North Sea.
Portobello
As you drive along the foot of Arthur's Seat, it feels as though you have left the city somewhere behind you. The wide grassy slopes, rocky cliffs, and open views seem almost rural.
This area was once a favourite hunting ground of Scottish kings and aristocrats. I imagine that riding across these slopes on horseback, with Edinburgh below you and the sea shimmering in the distance, must have been quite something.
Then again, life back then was not particularly forgiving. If you were not a king or a nobleman, you could lose your head rather quickly.
Fortunately, there was no such danger in our Uber.
During the ride, our driver, a Hungarian woman, and I somehow drifted into a conversation about modern European politics. She told us that a month earlier she had returned to Budapest for one reason only: to vote against Orbán. She then spent the night in the streets of the city, waiting for the results and celebrating until morning.
The things you learn in a fifteen-minute ride.
Then she turned into a side street, and suddenly a sandy beach opened up before us.
We had arrived in Portobello.
Our first beach in Great Britain.
It was enormous. It must be several kilometres long.
We arrived at low tide. Whenever we travel, we try to touch the sea or ocean that belongs to the place we are visiting. This time, the tide made us work for it a little, as there must have been some three hundred meters between the start of the beach and the water.
But who would complain about a walk along the shore?
On our way to the sea, the girls collected seashells while Anja and I agreed that an afternoon trip to the coast had been the perfect decision.
By now, we had already touched the waters of the Adriatic, Mediterranean, Baltic, and Red Seas, as well as the Atlantic on both sides of the ocean. Now it was time to dip our hands into the North Sea too.
Besides the sunshine and the relaxed atmosphere, the beach offered something we were not exactly used to seeing on our previous trips.
An offshore oil platform.
Something new. Something completely different.
By then, it was already mid-afternoon, and since we were by the sea, it somehow felt only right to stop for lunch.
Once again, we ended up in an Italian restaurant.
How were we getting back into the city?
Uber, of course.
This time, I booked it a little too early. In less than a minute, it was already waiting for us on the road outside the restaurant. We paid quickly and were soon speeding back toward the city.
This driver was considerably quieter.
But much faster.
After dropping us off, we continued into a shopping centre, which is hardly unusual when you are travelling with three girls.
I am used to it by now.
Fortunately, there were more than enough benches, and I was able to wait in peace.
One Last Time Beneath the Castle
Less than an hour later, we were once again walking along Princes Street. Passing the Scott Monument, we turned into the gardens beneath the blooming cherry trees and ended up at the very same playground we had discovered the day before.
The girls were once again playing with the friends they had made the day before, while Anja and I reclaimed the same bench overlooking the castle.
And so, in our own way, we said goodbye to a city that had captured every one of us.
Tomorrow, we are heading north.
By train.
Four hours away.
To Inverness, the capital of the Scottish Highlands.
This post is part of the travel series Family Trip to Scotland, where the entire journey is told as a story from the first to the last day.
SCOTLAND · TRAVEL JOURNAL SERIESDay 2 of 11
First Time Using Uber in Edinburgh
In the end, we decided that Edinburgh would be the first city where we would finally give Uber a try
The evening before, while standing below Edinburgh Castle, it had already become obvious that we would need a taxi the next morning. The uphill walk would have been a bit too much for the first day.
A few minutes after booking the ride, Shamim arrived in a white Toyota. I was just about to grab the door handle when I noticed him watching me with a smile.
Right. Of course.
The driver sits on the right side here.
Our first Uber ride turned into a pleasant conversation with the driver. Shamim told us he had already visited Slovenia twice and had been completely impressed by our small country. A familiar feeling, because we were already beginning to fall for Edinburgh ourselves that morning.
If I had known then what I know now, I would never have waited so long to try Uber. You download the app, create an account, enter your destination, and that is pretty much it. What I liked most was that everything is handled directly on your phone. No searching for cash, no cards, and no wondering how much the ride will cost at the end. Everything is clearly displayed and confirmed in advance. That means there is no need to discuss payment with the driver, and you can simply enjoy the ride and the conversation.
There is another practical feature as well. You can see exactly where the driver is, how long it will take them to reach you, and even the vehicle registration number. That is especially useful in a city center full of similar-looking cars. The pickup point is clearly marked too, so there is very little chance of waiting in the wrong place.
A few minutes later, we were already standing on the Royal Mile, the most famous street in Edinburgh’s Old Town, connecting Edinburgh Castle with the Palace of Holyroodhouse.
Our first proper encounter with the city turned out to be much easier than it would have been after a steep uphill walk.
Uber had done its job perfectly. I have a feeling we will not be ignoring it for quite as long on future trips.
Camera Obscura: A Family Favorite in Edinburgh
After all the trips we have taken over the years, we have learned two things.
First, it is always best to buy tickets in advance and book an early morning time slot. The crowds are usually smaller, and more importantly, the rest of the day remains completely open. You can adjust it to the weather, your energy levels, or even the influence of the moon on the mood of certain family members.
Second, alongside the classic landmarks, we always try to find something that will appeal to the girls as well. After all, not every day can be built entirely around castles, museums, and history.
Camera Obscura seemed like a good idea.
And it really was. Right from the start.
As we looked around, the Royal Mile stretched away into the distance before us.
Behind us stood Edinburgh Castle, while above us rose a six-story building topped with what looked like a dome. That was exactly where we were headed.
As soon as we entered, we were advised to go straight to the top. Looking at the dome above the building, I assumed we would end up somewhere inside it. Fortunately, the dome occupies only a small part of the rooftop, while the rest is an open terrace.
From there, Edinburgh Castle, the Royal Mile, the rooftops of the Old Town, and views stretching all the way to the North Sea unfold before you.
Even better, we were the first ones there.
For a few precious minutes, we had the entire view completely to ourselves.
As we had already guessed, the dome housed the Camera Obscura itself, a fascinating 19th-century invention that uses lenses and mirrors to project a live image onto a viewing table in a darkened room. We had actually encountered one before in Seville. In a way, it is a form of live entertainment that existed long before television, allowing you to watch the city from above while sitting in a dark room.
The Edinburgh attraction was created by Maria Theresa Short, an entrepreneur, trailblazer, and science enthusiast. The fact that a woman was running such an attraction at that time was remarkable in itself.
Inside the dark room, we found ourselves among a group of German students accompanied by a teacher who, as it turned out, was visiting for the sixteenth time.
When the guide started the device, a live image of Edinburgh suddenly appeared on the white viewing table in front of us.
People walked through the streets below, cars moved along the roads, and the guide used mirrors and a few clever tricks to add plenty of laughs to the presentation.
During the demonstration, he also shared a story from the previous day. One of the schoolchildren had apparently looked at the projection and asked whether the castle on the image was Buckingham Palace. The guide had to explain that even a 170-year-old invention could not see quite that far, and that what he was actually looking at was Edinburgh Castle, standing only a few hundred yards away. I imagine the student was rather disappointed by the answer.
The remaining floors are dedicated to a museum of illusions. Optical illusions, mirror rooms, holograms, and a variety of interactive exhibits make it just as entertaining for adults as it is for children.
At one point, they even installed a ladder all the way to Australia.
All in all, it had everything in one place. A spectacular view over Edinburgh, the fascinating story of an invention that must have felt like pure technological magic in its day, and enough entertainment to keep us engaged all the way down through the building.
Two hours later, we were back on the street.
It felt like the right time for a coffee.
Ever since Anja received a Snow Monkey travel mug as a gift, we have stopped making quite so many coffee stops while traveling. When I complained about it a little at first, I soon ended up getting one of my own.
These days, our coffee follows a simple rule: anytime, anywhere.
Just as we were enjoying it, a man dressed in traditional Scottish clothing began setting up nearby. He slung a set of bagpipes over his shoulder and started tuning the instrument.
Of course, we stayed and listened.
And the moment he began to play, the atmosphere on the Royal Mile suddenly felt almost perfect.
A Church That Is No Longer a Church
The bagpiper was standing directly across from another interesting building. Its massive Gothic tower and distinctive red doors were almost impossible to miss. In front of the entrance, people were sitting outside, enjoying their morning coffee.
Wait a minute. Isn’t that a church?
Well, it is. Or at least, it used to be.
The building was constructed in the mid-19th century as St John the Evangelist Church. Today, however, it no longer serves as a place of worship. Instead, it hosts concerts, exhibitions, and various cultural events.
Apparently, it is also a place where you can stop for a famous whisky coffee.
Edinburgh is full of surprises like that. Buildings that were created for one purpose now live completely different lives.
As for us, we had already finished our coffee.
It was time to begin our Harry Potter hunt.
Victoria Street = Diagon Alley?
As you make your way down the steps, you soon arrive at a viewpoint overlooking Victoria Street. One glance is enough to understand why so many people associate it with Harry Potter. The colorful facades, small independent shops, and unusually curved street create the feeling that you have stepped straight into a magical world.
This very street is said to have been one of the inspirations behind the famous Diagon Alley. Whether that is actually true or not hardly matters anymore. Victoria Street embraced its connection to the wizarding world long ago and turned it into part of its identity, something clearly reflected in the many Harry Potter-themed shops lining the street.
Halfway down stands The Elephant House, the café where J. K. Rowling is said to have written parts of the first books. How much of the story was truly inspired by Edinburgh is something only she can answer.
Victoria Street is something special even without all those stories. It slopes steeply down toward Grassmarket, curves almost into a semicircle between rows of old stone buildings, and with its colorful facades, it has become one of the most photographed streets in Edinburgh.
Grassmarket and Edinburgh’s Darker Side
If Victoria Street is full of color and tourists, Grassmarket tells a very different story. Today, it is lined with pubs, cafés, and shops, but centuries ago it was a marketplace for horses and livestock, as well as the site of public executions.
It is also connected to one of Edinburgh’s strangest stories. In 1724, Maggie Dickson was hanged here, only to regain consciousness while being transported to the cemetery. Since her sentence had technically already been carried out, she could not legally be executed a second time. Today, one of the pubs in the square bears her name. Edinburgh seems to have a remarkable talent for turning even its darkest stories into local legends.
The girls headed off for ice cream, while I wandered off on my own for a while. When I reached the far end of the square, yet another incredible view of the castle opened up in front of me.
You would think that after a day and a half of exploring the city, nothing could really surprise you anymore.
And yet it did.
The massive fortress stands high above the city on top of a sheer volcanic rock, and it is only from below that you truly appreciate what a natural stronghold this place once was.
The view is made even more striking by a neighboring building draped in blue and purple floral decorations that spill across its tower and facade. The combination of old stone, flowers, and the castle rising in the background creates a scene that is hard to forget.
Somewhere, I had read about another spot that supposedly offered an even better view of the castle. At the edge of the square, I found the steps known as The Vennel. From there, the castle rises dramatically above a narrow staircase squeezed between old stone buildings.
Personally, I preferred the view from below, but it is easy to understand why so many people stop here for a photo.
Searching for Tom Riddle
Just a few minutes after hearing stories about public executions in Grassmarket, we found ourselves in another place that could easily be described as a little dark.
This time, it was a cemetery.
Greyfriars Kirkyard is one of Edinburgh’s most famous burial grounds. You enter directly from the street and suddenly find yourself surrounded by old gravestones, stone monuments, and centuries of history.
But we were not there to admire the architecture or search for famous Scots.
We were still chasing Harry Potter.
Somewhere in the cemetery lies the grave of Thomas Riddell, whom many believe inspired J. K. Rowling when she came up with the name Tom Riddle, the future Lord Voldemort and the main villain of the series.
Before long, our visit had turned into a search for a single gravestone.
Google Maps is not particularly helpful here. The cemetery is much larger than it first appears. Beyond the main section lies another area hidden behind a tall wall. Since we assumed the wall marked the end of the cemetery, we spent quite a while searching in the wrong place.
And we were not the only ones.
Quite a few other people were wandering between the gravestones as well, clearly searching for the same thing we were. Everyone seemed to be staring at their phones while scanning the cemetery with the exact same goal in mind.
Eventually, we found it.
To be honest, the gravestone itself did not mean all that much to me.
To Nara, it meant quite a bit more.
And in the end, that is what really matters. Spending a sunny afternoon wandering through an Edinburgh cemetery together, searching for a small piece of a story that the entire world knows.
Greyfriars Bobby
So that things would not become too gloomy, a much warmer story was waiting for us near the exit.
A small dog named Bobby continued to visit his owner's grave every day for fourteen years after his death. His story became a symbol of loyalty and one of Edinburgh’s most beloved legends.
Today, a statue of Bobby stands near the entrance. According to local tradition, touching his nose brings good luck. Judging by its color, millions of visitors have done exactly that before us, because the bronze shines there almost like gold.
The University and Lunch with the Rolling Stones
After leaving Greyfriars, we followed the lower streets of the city, running parallel to the Royal Mile, until we reached the University of Edinburgh.
For a few minutes, we wandered into the central courtyard. The large dome, imposing stone buildings, and expansive lawn create a sense of tradition, academic freedom, and the power of knowledge.
Anja and I could not help thinking back to our own university days.
By then, we had already covered a good portion of the day, so it was time for lunch. Across the street, an Italian restaurant called Ciao Roma caught our attention.
And the moment we stepped inside... a surprise.
Hanging in a display case was a guitar that had belonged to the Rolling Stones.
Not some replica made for tourists, but a genuine guitar signed by the members of the band.
Lunch was excellent. One of those pleasant stops that you never plan in advance, yet somehow end up remembering long after the trip is over.
Maybe it was the food.
Maybe it was the guitar.
Most likely, it was both.
Jacob’s Ladder and a View of Arthur’s Seat
We still had a good part of the afternoon ahead of us, so we continued on foot toward the eastern side of the city. If the day had already been shaped by Harry Potter, graveyards, and dark stories, then it seemed only fitting that it would continue in the same spirit.
They say a walk after lunch is a good idea.We certainly took one.
The only difference was that ours first led us to Jacob’s Ladder, one of the many stairways connecting Edinburgh’s different levels. From the bottom, it does not look particularly impressive. But once you start climbing, you quickly realize that the word “ladder” was not chosen by accident.
We made it to the top without stopping, although we definitely left a bit of our breath behind on those steps.
Fortunately, a reward was waiting for us at the top.
A view of Arthur’s Seat.
Today, this peaceful green hill is actually the remains of an extinct volcano rising 251 meters above the city. Why it is called Arthur’s Seat is not entirely clear. One theory links the name to the legendary King Arthur, although historians have never reached a consensus on the subject.
For us, admiring it from a distance was more than enough.
After all, we had already climbed plenty of stairs and hills for one day.
The Seat of the Scottish Government That Looks Like a Fortress
As we continued toward Calton Hill, we passed a massive stone building that immediately caught my attention.
There was something about it.
The sharp lines, the dark stone, and its imposing presence.
At the time, I had no idea what I was looking at. Only later did I discover that it was St Andrew’s House, the headquarters of the Scottish Government.
Even though it is essentially an office building, it feels more like a fortress. The massive columns and near-perfect symmetry give the impression that it was designed to command respect.
And apparently, it still does.
Calton Hill, the Best View in Edinburgh
A few more steps, and suddenly you find yourself on top of Calton Hill. It is an open space, somewhere between a park, a viewpoint, and a historical walk, with monuments and buildings scattered across the hilltop.
Standing there, it quickly becomes clear why Edinburgh looks so different from most European cities. Arthur’s Seat, Castle Rock, and Calton Hill are all remnants of the city’s distant volcanic past, which shaped its unmistakable skyline. Most European capitals grew along major rivers and across flat land. Edinburgh, on the other hand, developed among hills, rocky outcrops, and the remains of extinct volcanoes.
At the highest point stands the observatory. Looking toward the castle, you cannot miss the circular monument surrounded by columns. It immediately reminded me of the Temple of Vesta in the Roman Forum.
A little farther to the right stands the most unusual structure on the hill. The National Monument of Scotland, sometimes called Edinburgh’s Acropolis by locals and, somewhat less kindly, Edinburgh’s Folly.
Why?
Because it was never finished.
In the early nineteenth century, plans were drawn up for a grand memorial inspired by the Acropolis in Athens, dedicated to those who had fallen in the Napoleonic Wars.
A familiar story.
They ran out of money
Only the columns remain, still standing on the hilltop today as a reminder that even the grandest ideas sometimes run out of momentum before reaching the finish line.
To the right, Arthur’s Seat dominates the skyline. Looking in that direction, you can also spot the tall tower built in memory of Admiral Horatio Nelson, while to the left the view opens out toward the North Sea.
Calton Hill is one of those places where it is worth stopping for a few minutes and simply looking around. On one side, there is the city. On the other, the sea. And all around you, history, both completed and unfinished, scattered across the grassy hilltop.
As for us, we stayed much longer than a few minutes.
For well over an hour, we sat on a bench, enjoying the warm afternoon sunshine and watching the city spread out below us.
The Walk Back Through Edinburgh
The walk back down was almost as interesting as the hill itself.
Along the way, we kept passing Edinburgh’s distinctive double-decker buses. Unlike the famous red ones in London, these were painted in white and green.
A little farther down, we came across a bronze statue of a man on horseback. The monument is dedicated to the Duke of Wellington, one of Britain's most celebrated military commanders and the victor of the Battle of Waterloo.
From there, we continued past the Balmoral Hotel.
It is almost impossible to miss. Its clock tower rises above the city and has been one of Edinburgh’s most recognizable landmarks for well over a century.
The clock has an interesting story of its own. Traditionally, it is said to run three minutes fast so that travelers would not miss their trains at the neighboring Waverley Station.
As you walk along Princes Street, your eyes keep drifting back toward the Royal Mile.
All that stone feels like a reminder of another age. It is as if you are looking at a medieval city preserved from a distant past.
Narrow streets, towers, and towering stone facades unfold before you like scenes from a fantasy film about some long-forgotten wizard.
And then you cross another street.
A tram nearly runs you over.
Suddenly, you are back in the twenty-first century.
Right in the middle of Scotland’s capital.
In the space of a few seconds, you travel mentally between the Middle Ages, a fantasy world, and a modern city. All because you happened to glance toward the Royal Mile for a moment.
Scott Monument, a Cathedral Without a Church
The moment you come back to reality, the Scott Monument rises directly in front of you.
My first impression was not exactly admiration.
Dark, towering, and covered with countless intricate spires, it looks almost a little sinister. After a day filled with graveyards and dark stories, it felt like a natural continuation of everything we had seen so far.
Only when you step closer do you realize just how enormous it really is. Standing more than 60 meters tall, it is considered the largest monument dedicated to a writer anywhere in the world. It honors Sir Walter Scott, Scotland’s most celebrated novelist and the author of Ivanhoe and Rob Roy.
Viewed from below, it looks almost like the facade of a grand Gothic cathedral, as if the rest of the building had somehow disappeared.
Princes Street Gardens
After descending from Calton Hill, we crossed Princes Street, a kind of boundary between Edinburgh’s Old Town and New Town. Between it and the Royal Mile lies Princes Street Gardens.
As far as I am concerned, it is one of the best-positioned parks I have ever seen. One moment, you are surrounded by the bustle of the city, shops, pubs, trams, and double-decker buses. Then, just a few steps away, you find yourself among lawns, flower beds, trees, and fountains.
The park sits some twenty meters below street level, making the contrast even more striking.
Looking at the blossoming cherry trees, neatly kept paths, dogs running across the grass, and people relaxing in the sunshine, it is hard to imagine that this was once Nor Loch, a lake that protected Edinburgh Castle and the Old Town from attackers for centuries.
As the city gradually expanded northward, the loch lost its original purpose. Eventually, it became little more than a dumping ground for waste and sewage, and was finally drained. In its place, the city created the park that exists today.
As you leave the street and make your way down into the gardens, one of the first things you encounter is a gardener’s cottage that is nearly two hundred years old. It is one of the most charming buildings in the entire park. Surrounded by blooming cherry trees, the small stone cottage looks as though it belongs on an old postcard.
Throughout the walk, Edinburgh Castle remains by your side on the left. The view is interrupted slightly by the railway line running below the castle rock, but it was probably the only way to bring the tracks into the very heart of the city.
As we continued through the park, we also passed an open-air stage that hosts concerts and festival events during the summer months. It stood empty that day, but with the castle rising in the background, it was easy to imagine how special an evening performance here must feel.
At the far end of the gardens, you arrive at the Ross Fountain. Impressive enough on its own to make you stop, it is quickly overshadowed by what stands above it. Edinburgh Castle rises directly behind the fountain, together creating one of the city's most iconic views. It almost feels as if the park was designed for the sole purpose of admiring the castle from exactly this angle.
The City That Won Us Over
Nearby was a playground. The girls quickly made friends with two American girls, and within minutes they were running around together as if they had known each other for a week.
Meanwhile, Anja and I sat down on one of the many benches, watching them play and talking about how Edinburgh would probably be the only city abroad where we could genuinely imagine living one day.
It was difficult to point to a single reason why.
Behind us was a wonderful day filled with new experiences. Despite being tired, we felt great. The city offered history, parks, viewpoints, and lively streets, yet at the same time it felt welcoming and surprisingly familiar.
Maybe it was the people who won us over the most.
Helpful, friendly, and above all, smiling.
Tomorrow, we will finally visit the castle that we have spent the last two days admiring from every possible angle. The time has finally come to step through its gates.
Well, almost.
Before we headed back to our Scottish home for the evening, I still had to take a few more photographs.
The city was making that very difficult to resist.
Camera Obscura → The Elephant House → The Vennel → Thomas Riddell’s Grave → Greyfriars Bobby → Old College → Calton Hill → Duke of Wellington Statue → Scott Monument → Ross Fountain
