The Quest for the Loch Ness Monster

The bathroom looks like a laundry room, but that seems to be the best way to wash undergarments on the road. It only makes it more interesting when the decorated bathroom is just one of many in a castle. If you're going to stay in Scotland, might as well camp out in a castle, right? And this castle is no joke. Nestled between Loch Ness and Lock Lochy, its a beautiful stone castle that retains its old, historical feel.

Of course, getting to our castle was a trip. We landed late, mostly because Easy Jet Airlines is the epitome of anarchy. If ever you run into one of those people who promote anarchy and chaos, point them towards Easy Jet. They'll be quite at ease. That aside (and never mind the fact the airline tore my black knapsack I bought in Iraq and is essentially irreplaceable), we ended up in our rental car and on the road.

Now here's a fun time--two Americans in an English style car, driving the tiny streets of Scotland. If my death grip on my seat belt had been any tighter, I would have snapped the belt in two. It didn't help that we screamed like little girls as we popped a curb to get around a car and every time a truck came from the opposite side, I experienced cold flashes of terror. Did I mention we're driving manual? Oh yes, the fun never stops.

So we bobbed along between pleasant laughs and gasps of fear to the most eclectic radio station ever imagined--the ONLY radio station, of course. First Lionel Hampton's "Midnight Sun" filtered through the static, followed by TLC "Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls." Then came a jarring and upbeat Spanish rendition of the World Cup opening song, which seemed a bit odd to hear the wild Spanish-style drums to the backdrop of the Scotland mountains. Then the song switched to bagpipes instead of drums, which felt slightly more Scottish until it was followed up by Elvis. Eclectic indeed.

Aside from the terror-inspiring trucks, the drive along side Loch Ness is breath taking. A light fog hands in the air, casting farther mountains into a deeper purple. Despite the periodic rain, the sky has this rolling gray affect that is wild and beautiful in its own way. We pulled over to take pictures (or, more accurately, Pami placated my wide-eyed, slack jawed desire to take a photo of every knook and turn by pulling over), and as we snapped shots, two young men sauntered over.

"Take a picture with me?" Asked one.

"With us?" We asked back in unison, confused why he wanted a picture with us.

It became fairly obvious that they were American (I find only American man are ballsy enough to walk up to a woman and ask such a thing), and even more obvious they were military.

"What makes you think that," One of them protested.

I pointed to his head. "You're wearing your PT hat." Dead give away.

How is it the first people we meet in Scotland are not only American, but also military? Like find like, I suppose.

Quite by chance, we ended up at the castle ruins of Urquhart Castle--a nearly thousand year old site that has a tortured and sadden history that I couldn't possible tell all here. It was beautiful, even if the ruins were a simple shadow of what must have been a great stronghold. I reached out and touched the stones, knowing that someone, so long ago, had placed them there. Someone had fought there, bled there, and died there. They were stones that practically hummed with centuries of stories. It is enough to make ones head reel as you stand surrounding by the broken walls, shivering in the cool lake air.

We never saw the Loch Ness monster, though we have a few days more to search. In this land where the last threads of the sun are still spinning at midnight, I'm sure we'll be able to track it down.

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