A Scottish Escapade

The next morning, after a very relaxing sleep on a comfortable bed, they made their way back to the lounge car for breakfast as the train headed across the vast desolate expanse of Rannoch Moor. The landscape, completely devoid of any sign of human life other than the train on which they travelled was beautiful to watch, the bog cotton starting to bloom on the marshy lands on either side of the railway. Then the train was slowing down to stop at Rannoch station, where there was a hotel, a couple of cottages, and a road snaking off into the distance. The train then moved on to an even more remote spot; the station at Corrour did not even have a road to it, so was really in the middle of nowhere. Jeff was staring at it all wide eyed, whilst Nick knew that once there must have been families here, with children, who had depended on the train for everything. It had to have been a lonely existence, particularly in winter, but they would also have been truly in touch with nature…

The final few miles of their journey passed with them back in their room, watching as the train headed back to the sea at Fort William, passing through a gully on the way were the railway ran alongside a river that tumbled down through a series of waterfalls that were inches away. It was awe inspiring to think that it had all been constructed in an era before the heavy equipment that would be used in such works now. As the train began to slow up for the terminus, Nick alone knew what awaited them on their return to civilisation, so to speak. As they pulled up at the double side platform, Wes' eyes widened and Jeff's face lit up as they both saw what was standing there, across the way. Nick could only laugh as the two of them virtually bolted off the train together as soon as the doors unlocked. He followed with the two small bags that he had packed, and saw that Jeff was already pulling his sketch pad out of his satchel…

He headed over to his husband, and said, "Actually, my love, I would draw the view behind the station first; that is Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in the UK. I know that the train is far more exciting, but we are going to be catching it, so you can draw it later at the other end of the line."

Jeff looked at his husband, and said in a hushed voice, "We are going to be riding on the Hogwarts Express? You aren't joking, we are really going to be catching that train?"

"Yes, we are, although naturally it isn't going to Hogwarts I am afraid. Anyway, I am going to leave the bags here with you whilst you sketch the mountain; I am going to take Wes up to see the engine properly before we leave…"

Nick took his son's hand and lead him along the platform to where the shiny black engine was wreathed in clouds of mist of its own making. The driver was of course used to visitors, and allowed them to have a good look into the cab, illuminated by the red glow from the firebox, heat coming off it strongly on a cool morning. "It is like a dragon, isn't it?" Wes whispered in awe. "A belly full of fire to make it go…" Nick nodded and wondered once more where his son had found all of the phrases that he came out with…

The train departed Fort William on schedule, and in their comfortable seats in a carriage at the rear of the train, they could watch as the engine pulled its rake of carriages off along a single track line towards the remote sea port at which it terminated. They listened to the rhythm of the wheels on the track, mixed with the puffing of the steam from the engine as it roared along, leaving a trail of vapour in its wake. Nick allowed his two companions to take the window seats, and he watched the scenery pass by as they commented, again being the only one that knew what would eventually appear, his camera primed and ready for that moment. When it came, Jeff's face was a picture once again, and Nick only wished that he had somehow been able to produce a flying Ford Anglia to ensure that their trip over the Glenfinnan Viaduct was absolute perfection…

Jeff was just pleased that his husband had managed to take a few perfect shots of the train on the viaduct for him, made easier by the fact that they were in the last carriage of the train. The train soon pulled to a halt at Glenfinnan station, to allow a normal train to pass by, and Jeff seized the chance to take Nick's camera and take a few pictures of the train sitting in the old fashioned station. Back on board with a few minutes to spare, he was delighted when a hostess appeared with a snack trolley. That there were a selection of Hogwarts related refreshments available was no surprise, and soon they were sitting with three non-alcoholic butterbeers, and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. It was all a little confusing to Wes, too young yet to know much about the wizarding world of Harry Potter, but he did enjoy his drink as the train carried on through moor and mountain…

They would catch a glimpse of the fabled white sands of Morar as the train began to slow down for the end of the line. The sea there was the Atlantic Ocean, and apart from the shadowy islands of the Hebrides that they could see in the distance, there was nothing now between them and North America. Then with a lot of whistling and a great cloud of steam, the train drew to a halt at the little station in Mallaig. As Nick had promised, there was ample time for Jeff to stroll down to the front and start to sketch the engine that had pulled them through the countryside in all of its glory. Meanwhile Nick kept Wes entertained by taking him for a stroll through the streets of the village, past the handful of shops that served the needs of the little community. They then joined the queue at the fish and chip shop, where a sign proudly proclaimed that all of the fish that they sold had been landed in the port just behind the store. They bought three portions, and carried them back to Jeff. He met them at the door to the station, and they headed to a bench overlooking the harbour to eat their lunch.

Their meal eaten, Jeff turned to Nick, and asked, "What time does the train head back Nicky?" anxious to get a drawing done of the fishing boats in the harbour.

"It leaves soon, but we aren't catching it. We will be taking another form of transport to our next destination." Jeff looked at his husband with curiosity, before the latter smiled and said, "Actually, I think that might be it in the distance, so if you are going to be making a sketch of the harbour, you should start on it right away." Jeff looked up where Nick was pointing, and saw in the distance a ferry boat, heading towards them from a distant landmass. "In case you were wondering, that boat will be taking us over to the Isle of Skye, and once there, we will be catching the bus to the island's capital, Portree, where we will be staying the night…"

Jeff began to make his sketch quickly, having Nick take a photograph from the same vantage point so that he could add in the details later, and then they headed down to the ferry pier. The boat was reasonably busy so they had to join a queue, and whilst they waited, Nick noticed a smaller ferry boat loading up with a few people and a lot of parcels at the other side of the dock. The sign next to the steps to the vessel stated that it was the ferry to Knoydart; it made Nick curious, and so he quickly googled it on his phone as Jeff was pointing other things out to Wes. He was left fascinated by what he read. The community that the little boat was heading to was small with just over 100 inhabitants; the ferry was its only link to the outside world as there was no road connection. There was still a post office and shop, an inn, a library open for a couple of hours a week, and a school with 3 or 4 pupils…

He tried to imagine what it must be like to live in a community like that as he read on to discover that they did not even have a connection to the UK electricity grid, and he realised he couldn't even contemplate it. He was so used to being able to just go to the store if he needed something, not have to organise life around the times of the ferry as the residents obviously had to - and of course, bad weather in winter could possibly sever that link for days… He was nudged back into awareness by Wes, who informed him that the queue was moving, and with a smile, Nick took his son's hand and they headed on board.

The ferry trip across to the Isle of Skye was not a long one, but they all enjoyed it immensely. They eschewed the enclosed cabin and sat outside, making the most of the spring sunshine. The air blew in their faces as the boat cut through the water, and although it was cool, they were well wrapped up and could deal with it. When the boat docked at the tiny village of Armadale they hurried off, heading up from the jetty to the waiting double decker bus. Most of the other people that had been on the ferry headed to parked cars or indeed to their houses in the village, so they virtually had the bus to themselves. As it was heading directly to Portree, they were able to head upstairs and take the seats at the front, thus making the most of the view. The road was very narrow at points, and at one stage a car had to reverse to let them pass on through a landscape of heather moor and small croft farms. Then they reached a wider road, and turning northwards, headed up the island, passing through a handful of small settlements until they reached the little town of Portree.

The bus pulled up right outside their hotel in the town square, which boasted banks and a few shops, although the majority of those were on the street that lead down towards the harbour. They headed inside to check in, and after placing their bags in the room they would share, and freshening up, they headed out to explore the town. The main street was lined with all the essential shops, including a bakery that had the most delicious looking cakes in the window; both Jeff and Wes pleaded with their eyes when Nick looked at them, and with a laugh he headed inside to purchase some. They ate them at a bench by the harbour, and having done so, Nick and Wes went to look at the fishing boats whilst Jeff sketched. They ate that night at the hotel, and while Wes stuck to chicken, his fathers took the opportunity to sample the local seafood. They went to bed that night tired, but very happy…

They rose reasonably early again the next day, and after a good hearty Scottish breakfast, they headed back out into the square to board the coach that would take them towards Inverness, the only city in the Highlands. It headed at first back down the same road that they had traversed the previous day, but this time stayed on the main road, eventually coming to the road bridge that technically made the Isle of Skye part of the mainland in some people's eyes. At the other end was the small town of Kyle of Lochalsh, which had once made its living from the ferry that had run from there to the island, but now catered for those that wished to stop and admire the view before they headed over the bridge.

Leaving the town after a few minutes, they left the village, and the coach headed along a road that hugged a sea loch; as it did so, Nick looked out for a landmark that he had been promised. By chance, the coach made a stop at the top of the road that lead down to Eilean Donan Castle, sitting on its island, linked now to the mainland by a bridge in these more peaceful times. Jeff's face lit up as he saw it, but he knew that there would be no chance to sketch it now; he had to be satisfied by the fact that Nick's camera clicked several times as he photographed it, knowing full well that his husband would be only too keen to sketch it later.

The sea was eventually left behind, and the coach climbed up into the mountains along a road that was lined with poles painted red and white in horizontal stripes at a regular interval. Wes watched them for a while, and then asked his father what they were for. Nick was grateful when an older lady sitting in the row in front turned round and explained that they were there so that the route of the road could be clearly seen in the event of heavy snow, ensuring that vehicles did not drive of course and crash down the hillside, as he had no idea what they signified himself until then. The miles passed by with no habitation other than a handful of remote farms and an inn breaking the desolate landscape. They came in the end to a road junction where the signs pointed back to Fort William, which seemed remarkably close given how far they had travelled, but they headed on towards the city instead.

To do so, they had to pass along the shores of one of the most famous lochs in the country, if not the world. The moment that Jeff saw the water ahead, he checked on his phone to see what it was, and smiled broadly. "That is Loch Ness, home of the monster," he whispered…

Wes looked more than a little startled at that revelation, until Nick said calmly, "A very friendly monster. We will be getting off the coach shortly in the village of Drumnadrochit, where there is a visitor centre that we can find out much more about her in…" The centre was small, but very interesting, with a lot of information about 'Nessie' and whether she existed or not. Wes was content to believe that she did, as was his papa, and the former was very pleased with the stuffed toy monster that the latter insisted he needed to have as a souvenir of their visit. Jeff himself plumped for a bright T-shirt emblazoned with an image of the monster, which left Nick shaking his head just a little, but from love, not anger…

A local bus would take them the rest of the way into Inverness itself, where they would be staying the night. It was a small city by normal standards, but a busy one, the centre of business and commercial life for a vast area. Having checked in to the hotel, they once again headed out to explore, taking in the castle and the locks that marked the start of the Caledonian Canal, which used Loch Ness as part of its route through to Fort William. It had saved ships having to travel round the northern half of Scotland, where the seas were frequently treacherous. The city was busier than they had imagined, and it was hard to think they were so close to the remote communities they had just passed through that morning. They did not eat in the hotel that evening, but took advantage of the fact that there were a variety of restaurants available, having a Chinese meal in a recommended restaurant. They enjoyed it, but both Nick and Jeff agreed that it wasn't quite as good as those back in New York…

The next day saw them having another early start. They boarded the train heading for London at the station, which confused Jeff for a start, as he had not been expecting to be heading back south so soon. However, they were not staying on board, and alighted at the second stop in Aviemore. In the distance the snow capped peaks of the Cairngorm Mountains could be seen, an area where even in the time of climate change, skiing was still possible in the winter. That was not their destination though. Jeff gasped as he saw what was happening on the other side of the station, and Wes looked at his father expectantly until Nick nodded. The Strathspey Railway was an entirely heritage railway line, unlike the route from Fort William to Mallaig, and the steam train that would take them north to Boat of Garten was waiting at the platform. When they arrived there, they headed for the minibus that would take them to the Loch Garten Nature Reserve, where they were able to few the magnificent ospreys that came there every year as they built their nests…

After another train ride back to Aviemore, there was a wonderful moment when the driver on the train let Jeff and Wes onto the footplate. Nick was able to take photographs of the two of them, but then found himself scolding Jeff as he had managed to get himself covered in soot. They had lunch at the café in the station, then boarded a train south again to the place where they would be staying that evening. Pitlochry was another small town, built mainly in the Victorian era to cater for the tourist trade; as a consequence the hotels were grand old buildings in the Scottish Baronial style, all turrets and castellated gables. Having checked into the Atholl Palace Hotel, they headed back into town to see the main visitor attraction there…

The hydro electric dam and neighbouring fish ladder had been built in the 1950s. The building of the former had blocked the route that salmon took back up the river to their spawning grounds, and so to ensure that the fish could still travel, the ladder had been build adjacent to the dam, a series of tanks that would allow the fish to head upstream, leaping from one to the next. It was not the best time of the year to see it, but luck was with them, and as they walked alongside a fish leapt from the water into the tank above, which made Wes gasp along with his papa. Nick just wished that he had had his camera running to film the moment it had occurred.

After dinner that night, Nick and Jeff sat quietly together in their room, Wes asleep in his bed in the next room. From the window of their room they could see towards the dam and the loch behind it, shining in the moonlight, framed by trees coning into leaf as spring progressed. "It is so beautiful here," said Jeff with a smile. "I am glad that we have had this chance to see more of Scotland."

"Well, we still have another day and night here," said Nick with a smile of his own. "We are heading down the valley tomorrow to the city of Perth, then along the river as it heads to the see at the city of Dundee, where there is time for us to go and see the V & A Museum there, and the historic ship that sits next door. Then it will be on to Edinburgh, crossing the two most historic railway bridges that this country has. Then after a night there, we will take the train south from the city back to London, able to see all of the sights that sit within the view of the railway line. Apparently the city of Durham is one of the most beautiful places on this coast, with a castle and cathedral in full view of the railway line. I will be ready to take pictures for you, if you want them."

"If it is as beautiful as you say it is, then of course I will need them. You always seem to know what I need, and that is why I love you so much. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you and little Wes. The two of you are my life…"

"The feeling is mutual my love. Fate brought us both to Dalton, and fate ensured that we stayed together. In just a couple of weeks it will be a decade since I came to my senses, you know. Ten years since I grabbed you by the lapels and made out with you in front of the whole of the school…"

"That was a day that I will never forget, but not just for that. When you turned up at my house that night, bruised and battered, it broke my heart. I didn't realise then what a horrendous effect it would have on your relationship with your parents; because mine accepted me, I assumed that yours would…."

"Well, my mom came round in the end, and Grace and my grandparents were there from the start. As for my father, well it is his loss. He has a grandson he will never see, and a talented son-in-law to boot… I think that we should follow our son's example, and head to bed. An early night always does us good…" Nick winked at his husband, who blushed a little, then stood up and took his husband's hand, leading him to their bed…

The next day saw them arrive in Dundee, and head across the street to the museum, built to resemble the prow of a ship, on the edge of the river. It was magnificent of the outside, and Jeff felt compelled to sketch it with the historic sailing ship Discovery in the background. Inside was just as magnificent, a glorious wood lined room, with sweeping ceilings. The exhibits were not as plentiful as those in London, but they had a distinctly Scottish bias; Nick was enthralled by the Oak Room, the interior of a tea room designed by his favourite architect, Charles Rennie Mackintosh, and rebuilt after being in storage for 50 years. Then it was on to the boat next door, a ship that had been built in the city, and had sailed to the Antarctic, before returning home. The exhibition was wonderful, and being able to wander around the rooms in which the brave polar explorers had sat was poignant…

The train journey on to Edinburgh saw them crossing two historic rail bridges, marvels of the Victorian age, and still coping with the daily passage of dozens of trains. The sight of Queensferry nestling under the bridge brought back memories for Nick and Jeff of the time they had travelled there and enjoyed an evening meal. Jeff recalled it too, and as they smiled, Wes asked them why. "We have been in that hotel just there for a meal, when we came here before we were married, with your uncles Trent, Rory, Sebastian and Dave. The next night we went to a Scottish dance called a ceilidh, and we all wore kilts," replied Nick.

"What is a kilt?" asked Wes.

"I think I still have a photo somewhere on my phone," said Jeff. After a few moments of looking he found the picture he was looking for of himself and the man that was then only his fiancé, and with a smile showed it to Wes.

After a few moments, in which he stared, the lad asked, "Why are you and daddy wearing skirts?"

"That is a kilt, and Scottish men would be very offended to hear it described as a skirt. It is worn for formal occasions, and a lot of men in the UK wear them for weddings, but it can also be worn for other events, such as well, rugby tours. They are really very comfortable," said Nick with a smile. "Maybe we could go and see if we can find one that would fit you so you can see?"

"I don't know daddy…" Wes replied.

"What if me and papa wore them too, just whilst we are here in Edinburgh? It would be an adventure of sorts…"

An hour later, their luggage checked in at the Balmoral, where the same member of staff that had greeted them a decade ago recognised their name, and them, and fussed over their son for a good five minutes, they headed back to the same kilt shop; ten minutes after that they all walked out in kilts. They headed up to the castle, passing a few other men and boys in the same attire, and seeing others made Wes feel a little less uneasy. By the time they reached the Castle at the top of the High Street, he felt able to assure his fathers that he thought a kilt was okay, and although he would not want to wear one all the time, maybe he could have one for special days when he got older…

There was time the next morning for a visit to Our Dynamic Earth, where the displays left Wes fascinated, although the earthquake room scared him, and the room with the large piece of polar ice made them all shiver. They had their lunch on the train back south, sitting in the first class coach as a treat. As promised, Nick had the camera primed for the moment the train slowed for Durham station, and Jeff was glad he did, as he wanted to sketch the city at once. A part of him wished that they had more time in England then, so that he could come to the medieval city and draw it properly, but home was calling him. He missed their friends, and their house. Maybe on one of the trips that Nick had been promised they could come here and see the north of England…