Inverness weekend

There are many mysteries in life: What's the meaning of it all? Where did it all come from? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why would anyone go to Inverness in November?

Well, it's pretty when the rain stops...

Leigh, Cali, and I left on Friday morning at an unfortunate hour for the capital of the Highlands aboard a double-decker bus, having secured provisions for the journey and made an impromptu hashbrown stop. The sky was cloudy but was holding steady, and we had high hopes for the weather. Too high, apparently, as the rain intermittently fell during the three-and-a-half-hour journey north, but we were treated to pretty Highland scenery, Highland coos, and more of the omnipresent sheep. We unloaded in Inverness to a windy, cold, moist afternoon, and, having taken control of the map, Leigh conducted us to the Ivor Villa, our B&B.


I had never stayed in a B&B, so I had little idea of what to expect. We were only having the bed portion (breakfast was an additional charge), but we found a nice triple room (with so-so heating), a bathroom with the "gravity shower," two cats, and a very welcome tea and coffee tray. Having dried a bit and discarded the bags, we set off to find food.

Our hostess, Ms. Coleman, gave us a map and explained that it was impossible to get lost in Inverness. This proved to be true, as we found High Street with little difficulty and stumbled into the weekend's European market, where we found amazing French potatoes and a selection of shiny things. I was finally able to procure a druzy for a decent price. Promising ourselves we'd eat a light lunch and return, we headed into Girvans for a welcome cup of soup and a pot of tea, then returned to the market just as the heavens opened up. Escaping with our goodies, we found the Victorian Market, an old shopping arcade, and ate in the corner while we dripped off. My umbrella was an unfortunate casualty of the day, and so the raincoat was put to the test.

Slightly drier, we ventured off back into Inverness to see more of the town, and eventually made the first of many forays into the Tourist Information Centre. This became our home-away-from-B&B over the weekend, a great place to contemplate the purchase of shortbread, Nessie merchandise, and coo calendars while waiting for the rain to stop. Having checked out the city, stopped for hot chocolate, and discovered the shopping mall just as it was closing, we killed enough time in HMV to feel good about going to dinner, then hit up the cute French restaurant next to Girvans. Remarkably, besides the couple of old ladies in the corner, we were the only diners in the place - Inverness seems to close up on Friday night - but the food was excellent. For lack of a better idea, we popped into a decent Tesco for breakfast rations and headed home to read. As the other two were actually doing homework, I bought a secondhand copy of Mutiny on the Globe and curled up with multiple cups of tea.

Our original plan for Saturday had been to walk to the hotel from whence the Jacobite Tours boat departed for Loch Ness, but this, we discovered that morning, was nine miles away. Undaunted, popped by St. Andrew's Cathedreal for a quick look, then opted for the tour that departed from our friendly neighborhood TIC. En route to the loch, we were regailed with stories about Drumnadrochit, Nessie, and ill-fated water speed attempts, and warned multiple times to be back at the car park by 1:30.

Loch Ness was lovely, if sporadically rainy and cold, and Urquhart Castle was very cool, if also rainy and cold. The £2 umbrella and £1 gloves I acquired in £-Stretchers that morning were probably my best investment all weekend.

After numerous pictures, Nessie sightings, an umbrella dance, a "fil-im," and the occasional bit of hiding out in Urquhart until the rain stopped, we did indeed make it back to the bus with time to spare. Sadly, the plan to bait Nessie with a strawberry Nutragrain bar tied to a piece of floss didn't work out.

Back in Inverness, we were treated to more of the local weather, so we holed up in a cafe with hot chocolate and lunch, then walked around town some more. The mall was vaguely uninteresting, but we were running out of options - November isn't the height of Highland tourist season for a good reason! Rather than waste time in the mall, we returned to the B&B for reading/naptime, then ventured out for an excellent dinner at The Mustard Seed. I miss the glass of Muscat with dessert and our hot French waiter.

Returning to Ivor Villa, we realized we had to check out by 9 AM, giving us four hours to kill in Inverness. Strapped for ideas, we decided to visit the Inverness Floral Hall in the morning.

After provisioning at McDonald's and treating ourselves to a partial recitation of The Little Mermaid with the television across the road, we took a long stroll down the River Ness toward the Floral Hall. It was slightly warmer than Saturday had been, less windy, and the rain was holding off for a change. We explored the islands in the middle of the river, petted the puppies, and goofed off, finally arriving at our destination.

The Floral Hall had two things going for it: there were hothouses, and student admission was only £1.25. It wasn't great - hell, it wasn't really that good - but the koi were enormous, the "Secret Sensory Garden" was...erm...fragrant, and the hothouses were warm. Also, there were "mammiferous" cacti named for some woman. How's that for a token of love?

Realizing that we had managed to kill three hours, we returned to Girvans for lunch, grabbed last-minute snacks at the market, and speedwalked to the bus terminal, where we found our bus, an extended single-level affair, already boarding. Settling in at the rear of the back bus, we discovered that we were behind a group of rowdy high schoolers whose idea of bus behavior was turning on a radio and letting everyone enjoy the music. Luckily, we had headphones, and the kids got off at Perth for the Glasgow connection.

The most disturbing part of the trip back was the scenery, however; mountains that had been brown two days before were dusted with snow. A sign of things to come? We'll find out...