The day started at the beautiful hotel in Inverness that apparently had a section dating back to the 1530s. Will and I had a great porridge breakfast in the lovely formal dining room looking out on the Moray Firth and the hills beyond. We watched the inevitable Scottish rain fall and speculated on who would see Nessie first. We then headed out for a 1-hour tour on a boat on Loch Ness aboard a small boat, which took us over the incredibly deep water of the loch. Will scanned the water with his binoculars, watched the on-board sonar screen for sign of the elusive monster. We saw the lovely ruins of Urqhart Castle, last blown up by the retreated Brits in the 17^th century, on a strategic point in Loch Ness that had been fought over for centuries.

On our return trip, an older gentleman named Kenneth White, who worked on the boat, regaled me with stories of the history of everything from 11^th century Macbeth, Thane of Cawdor and King-assasin, to the Jacobite rebellion in mid 18-century – dates, names, he reeled them off like a true history bugg. He then asked if we were Scottish, and he proceeded to whip out heavily thumbed books on the names and clans. He said that Thompson is the same as Thomson, or MacIntosh, son of Thomas, and we are part of the Clan Chattam, pronounced “Hattam,” and said that our ancestors may have been at the decisive, horrific Jacobite battle at Culloden – on either the Scottish or British side. He said our ancestors may have been taken prisoner and shipped overseas, or may have emigrated during the infamous clearing of the Highlands, part of the wholesale destruction of the clans and Highland culture following the Jacobite rebellion of 1745-46. Apparently there is a great library in Inverness, where staff will help you track your ancestors – something to remember for a return trip.

We then drove to Cawdor Castle, where the famous Thane of Cawdor, Macbeth, slew his king Duncan and went down in Shakespearean infamy. It’s gorgeous and still a private home, where the Countess of Cawdor still lives 6 months of the year, making money off us tourists the other six. Will saw a dungeon, where people may have been hidden from persecution or imprisoned. There were innumerable priceless tapestries, furniture, portraits – as well as photographs of her children and herself and modern artwork. It was truly a fabulous place. The gardens were lush and flowering, but it was raining too hard to explore them. The only thing missing was any mention of Shakespeare’s Macbeth – everyone was at pains to explain he was actually a great king, villianized by the Damn Bard of Avon. I can’t remember the specifics, but I seem to recall Shakespeare was playing to his Scottish King and patron’s family ties – like I think James I may have descended from Banquo, whom Macbeth murders.

We then visited an amazing, multi-media interpretative center at the site of the Battle of Culloden in 1746, where the Jacobites lead by Bonnie Prince Charlie lead an ill-fated attempt to reinstate his father on the English throne. He lead his exhausted and overmatched Highlanders to slaughter at the hands of the Brits.

Finally, at the recommendation of our new friend Kenneth, we then headed out on our first “dotted-line” road, which turns out to be a single-track road along the south side of Loch Ness. A trip that would have taken 40 minutes, took 1 ½ hours, and it was way stressful. We did see some lovely scenery toward the end, but I was exhausted by the time we arrived at our hotel, where a surly clerk got into it with my mother for ringing the bell too much. Oops, gotta go to dinner because we don’t want to be late and get in trouble again with the surly clerk/waiter/bar keep/receptionist, whatever he is.

Later on ….. Mom ended up making friends with her surly, overworked clerk – she calls him the dingaling man. She bought him a pint and he now teases her about all the bell-ringing. The Inn is a casual place, much to Dad’s liking, and it looks out over lovely Loch Lochy and the steep partly forested hills across the loch. The tops of the hills are not surprisingly hidden in the perpetual mist.

A monster named Lizzie apparently live in Loch Lochy – Will spotted her this morning. “I only saw her back. She was black, I saw her spine, bumps on her back and that’s all I saw,” Will reported. No Nessie, but Lizzie!

A note on the driving – driving on the left is the easy part. The hard part is the roads are so damn narrow, and there is NO SHOULDER. Either a curb, a sharp drop off the asphalt, or a treacherous pothole. And there are TOUR buses! And there are signs that say “Oncoming traffic in middle of road.” No kidding. So far, so good, but it’s a little nerve-wracking, like today when a bus was edging into our lane, forcing me into the gutter at the side of the road. We’re lucky we didn’t get a flat tire – I hope it doesn’t deflate in the coming days.