This is not the end. Loch Ness and Culloden.

Graeme Ambrose, as opposed to Graham, is a certified (Scottish) mountain guide. He leads private trips all over the Highlands and Islands. I wish I’d known. Along with the MacKenzies, we stayed with Graeme and his wife, Fiona, for five glorious days at their bed and breakfast on the south shore of Loch Ness outside of Inverfarigaig.

Upon arriving at the house, I tossed my bags into the room and hiked up into the mountains, alone, not only to clear my head, but to get a feel for the place where a few of the survivors of Culloden had hidden in caves, some for years and years. If you’re a fan of Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon, you know what I’m talking about.

It’s odd. These mountains are far from ordinary. I saw birds, squirrels, even a lone fox. The animals ignored me, yet I kept looking over my shoulder. I sensed someone watching me. It wasn’t a malevolent spirit and I wasn’t afraid, but whatever it was, it was very old. It was as if I was being observed by people who had gone before me, as if their energy lingered. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on my part, perhaps not. There seemed to be something both mystical and tragic about those mountains.

I took very few pictures because it felt almost like an invasion of privacy to do so. I wandered up and down Dun Dearduil for a couple hours, trying to stay to the main paths as Graeme had instructed. Although I knew the Loch was ‘down’, more or less, it was easy to get lost in the thick growth. There was nobody there but me. Just me. In America, I’d be concerned about running into some awful person or even a mountain lion in this kind of isolation, but not in these mountains. I half expected to see a Highlander or a faery materialize from the trees.

Anyway, that evening over a bottle of Scotch, we discussed our experience on the Islands with Graeme, asking him question after question about hiking in Scotland, the grading of hikes, how guides are trained in the U.K. We showed him the written description of the trip we took. He was absolutely appalled by our story of Graham. He assured us Scots do indeed use trails and that by no stretch of the imagination were our hikes and climbs considered ‘easy’. He explained that guides in Scotland are held to a very strict standard. Although the mountains may not be as high as say, the Rocky Mountains in the States, hikes and climbs can be very treacherous, especially because the weather is so changeable and the footing so dangerous. He urged us to call the company that had arranged for our guide to complain. We decided to do so as soon as we returned home. We also decided to forget Graham for the remainder of the trip.

Had I known Graeme was a mountain guide when I’d first organized this adventure, I would have hired him myself. However, I did have the foresight to hire him for a tour of the historical sites of the area, like the Clava Cairns, Culloden - which had me balling my eyes out, Ft. Augustus and Ft. William, and Urquhart Castle. He also graced us with a whiskey tour - Talisker is my favorite.

He provided us with directions and a map so that we could hike Dun Dearduil, the Falls of Foyer, and the Loch Ness Trail. What a magical place. I have to laugh because after surviving Graham, it was on Dun Dearduil that I crossed a brook, slipped on a submerged rock and did a back flip, nearly killing myself. My husband was laughing so hard at my outrageous acrobatics he couldn’t even help me up. I still haven’t forgiven him for that.

Tomorrow - Edinburgh and a our very own Georgian mansion.

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