One whiskey, two whiskey, three whiskey, no more!

The national drink of Scotland must be whiskey. I drink a lot of things, but not usually whiskey.

So when we went to a Whisky Distillery, I looked forward to having a proper try.

We toured around the Tomatin Whisky Distillery, learning about malted barley, cask barrels and distillation.

Too distracted by the cute guide to remember what this does

Barrels of laughs, or whiskey

The finished product

Then into the bar for the fun stuff.

Apparently you’re supposed to sip whiskey, not shot it. You tell me that now.

Mmm tastes good, not

I did actually sip it at first, but didn’t enjoy it much. So I thought what the hell, bottoms up. Bad Idea.  I burnt the crap out of my throat, and could still feel it hours later.

Our next encounter with whiskey was at the hostel, Morag’s Lodge. We had the next day of our tour off as a free day so we all had a big night. Which turned into a very big night. 

Chris our guide suggested we all do a ‘Rusty Nail’ shot – a combination of Dram Buie and the worst whiskey in the land.  After three bottles of wine the Rusty Nails went down much better.

Rusty alright

Cheers!

They also contributed to the hangover from hell.

After two out of three of us being sick from this night, fair to say we will be staying well away from the whiskey, and the wine, for a good while.

Flaming Nikki

I do believe in fairies, I do, I do!

Just like in Ireland, the Scots are crazy superstitious about fairies.

The Clootie Well is said to have magical fairy powers, healing physical injuries or ailments. The idea behind it is to dip a piece of clothing or fabric which has touched the injured body part into the Clootie Well, hang it up in the trees, and as the fabric disintegrates the injury will heal.

There were so many clothing items, scraps of fabric, and even medical braces that were worn on injured limbs hanging all over the  site.

It was very eerie. It was ingrained in us in Ireland to respect the fairies, as they can be quite tricky. If you are nasty to the fairies the fairies will be nasty to you.

One of our group went up into the trees, and Ash, Livi and I were thinking, ‘what are you doing?! Respect the fairies or bad stuff will happen!’

Clearly, we have since adopted the same superstitions.

TinkerNikki

Nessy, Nessy, where for art thou Nessy?

Contrary to my own beliefs, I did not really find the Loch Ness Monster.

Wassup Nessy

But no wonder she can’t be found – Loch Ness is the second longest, second deepest, and has the highest volume of water of any of the Lochs in Scotland. With a depth of over 600 feet at its deepest point, with extensive caves and black water, Nessy has us all fooled.

A fish called Nessy

We took a cruise on the Loch for £12, monitoring sonar equipment for USO’s (Unidentified Swimming Objects), and heard many different theories and stories of sightings. The boat’s guide swore he had seen one of Nessy’s humps six years ago. 

 

I found Nessy!

It rained and was cold before we got on the boat, but the clouds parted for our hunting mission. That £10,000 reward is worth getting wet for!

Nessybusters

Our absolute favourite part of the trip was performing the Nessy Haka, inspired by that of New Zealand. Our Haggis Adventures tour guide, Chris, assured us that if we believed, and performed this dance in Nessy’s honour, she would appear to us.

“Come to me, come to me, Nessy, Nessy!” we chanted and chanted, calling out, “I believe!”

Finding Nessy

But she must have been washing her hair and did not hear us.

The dance was ridiculous but was the most fun of the whole tour.

I’m glad that Nessy stayed hidden, it’s much more interesting that way. Last September sonar equipment picked up a huge USO, which they believe is evidence the monster exists.

The Loch is so vast and the water so dark, Nessy won’t be found unless she wants to be. Go you good thing!

Loch Nikki Monster

Scotland: Dressing for the Highlands, kilts optional

Holy crap Scotland is cold in the spring time. I’d hate to see it in winter.

We booked a seven day tour of Scotland with Haggis tours, and across the week it was a miracle when the weather got to double digits. Seriously.

After meticulously selecting our day one tour outfits (we have to make a good first impression) and then freezing our butts off, we realised we may have to compromise style for warmth.

Soaking wet ballet flats, freezing cold feet, icy ears and noses, and wet hair. Luckily the day before the tour began we purchased some not so fashionable spray jackets from Primark for £9 each. They roll up and fit into our handbags, in the shape of a bean. So our ugly spray jackets would now be called our beans.

We could possibly take flight

Don't mess with us, it's cold

A suitable amount of layers to combat the weather would be a singlet, long sleeve top, knit jumper or two, blazer, scarf, and bean jacket over top. And we were still cold.

Snow bean

Windy bean

Emo bean

Shoes were our next problem.  Hiking boots are so not cute, unless you look like Bear Grylls. My favourite brown Country Road flats are currently wet in a plastic bag at the bottom of my backpack. Our tour guide Chris made it very clear, “Socks! You must wear socks! It’s Scotland!”

The most practical shoes I packed were a pair of canvass Vans.

Not the Vans! Anything but the Vans!

After hiking the Scottish Highlands in the rain all week, I realised they were not so practical either. Sitting in the bus with wet socks and shoes, and trying not to spread mud onto everything else is not so comfortable.

Trying to walk through the forest without sliding in the mud

Every town we stopped in we searched vigorously for gumboots, or wellies as they’re called over here. (Ask for gumboots in a store and they will look at you like you want to buy a bag of dog poo).

After a few days of rain and chill I felt like I was picking up a bit of a cold. Time to up the layers. As well as wearing half my backpack, I inherited our guide Chris’ big thick knit jumper, seeing as our Zara knits “aren’t real knits”.

Who said three shades of green couldn't work together?

A backpack full of dresses and bikinis, and not enough warm clothes. More than a few people at home suggested that perhaps this was not the correct way to go about packing.

Nevertheless, if I had to do it again I couldn’t have done much differently. I wore so many layers I felt like a Michelin man, and I just couldn’t wear, carry, or afford hiking boots.

So if you were planning a trip to Scotland, check the weather! And take proper waterproofs. And maybe go in the summer, the weather might actually hit double digits!

Nikki the snowman

Scotland: Take me to Edinburgh

Staying in Edinburgh was like a dream.

We took a ferry and three trains to Edinburgh, and it turned out our final destination was right in the heart of town. It also turned out that the hostel we wanted to say in was opposite that station. And it turned out we had picked our best hostel yet.

Perfection.

The St Christopher’s hostel in Edinburgh was fabulous. We paid £60 each for three nights staying in a 10 person female dorm with a private ensuite.

Divine.

Austin Powers was here

Everything in the room was pink and orange – the walls, doonas and pillows, and the lighting. There was a cute teddy bear in the room and it had a homely shower. And there was a full length mirror.

Hallelujah.

Cute bunks

I am watching you

Not a jail shower

The hostel also has a restaurant and bar below, with guest enjoying 10% off meals and even more off drinks.

Every Thursday night a band plays in the hostel bar, so we had a drink, shouted out a few requests, sang along to Bon Jovi, and had a few more drinks.

Shots were £2, bombs were £2 and mixed drinks were £2.50. It was a good night.

Cheers big ears, not suss at all

Get it down, it doesn't taste like petrol!

haaaaaaaaahhhhhhh it burns!

The bass player and his comedian roommate took us up a few scary looking staircases, up the Royal Mile, to the nightclub Opium. This turned out to be an alternative/ heavy metal club – not really our scene if you hadn’t picked that up.

But when in Edinburgh, why the hell not?!

"Do you have a girlfriend?" "No, but I'm really close with my mum"

The city is beautiful, even from out hostel window we could see some incredible architecture, with a castle smack bang in the centre of town, opposite shopping centres. It was so easy to navigate our way around, and everything was so close.

We took part in a free walking tour of the city lasting three hours where we learnt about Edinburgh Castle, The Stone of Destiny, and plenty of old stories from our gorgeous tour guide, Brendan.

So when he asked for a volunteer, I happily obliged.

Brendan the Babe

You spit on my heart? I spit on you

Pretty Edinburgh

We visited the coffee shop where J K Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter book, a graveyard with headstones naming Harry Potter characters, and the school inspiring Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Cafe above the Oz bar, fantastic

The birthplace of Harry Potter

The real Tom Riddell's tombstone  

Sneaky pic of fake Hogwarts

In the same grave yard, we learnt that Edinburgh is the most haunted city in Europe, and this site is famous for many poltergeist attacks.

Apparently in recent years a homeless man crawled into a crypt to escape the elements. However he was too heavy and he fell through the floor of the old crypt and onto the coffin below, scattering the bones onto the ground. These bones once belonged to George Mackenzie, a Lord Advocate of Scotland.

Shocked and covered in human remains the man tried to clamber out of the depths of the tomb.

When he emerged covered in dirt and body parts he terrified all who passed by. Apparently since this accident there have been over 600 reported incidence of people being touched, pushed, pulled and walked through by a poltergeist in the area.

A reverend was sent down into the Crypt to check it out and perform any necessary rituals. He emerged after 15 minutes claiming if he spent any longer down there the Mackenzie Poltergeist would kill him.

He died two weeks later.

Spooky shit.

The Black Mausoleum has since been closed, and when we went past it there was definitely blood smeared on the entrance.

Edinburgh felt very much like home, and I too would have loved to sit in a coffee shop each night writing something that would make me richer than the Queen.

N L Labourne

Ireland: Last night I played a table tennis tournament in Dublin

With an extreme hangover, on the final day of our Shamrocker trip we took a Black Cab tour of Belfast. They too have a history of violence and rebellion between the Catholics and Protestants. So much so that attacks and bombings are not uncommon, and would happen quite regularly in even the recent past.

A mural in Belfast

We saw more murals and tributes to those lost to The Troubles, and heard heartbreaking recounts of violence and loss of life. The guides from the Black Cab tours who live and work in Belfast can’t see the walls dividing the two communities being taken down any time soon.

A section of the Belfast Wall dividing the Catholics and Protestants

More murals remembering The Troubles

The drive from Northern Ireland back to Dublin in the Republic of Ireland was the finale of the tour.

We had a great week in Ireland (not island). Although it was cold, it wasn’t freezing, and we were so lucky to have hardly any rain. I still can’t believe how green the landscape was, and how coastal the place actually is. And I can’t believe how much we actually drank in the week.

A few of us had some extra time in Dublin, so we still had a chance to hang out with our new friends, even if most of them were Australian. A table tennis tournament was started in the recreation room in the hostel, which ended almost as big as the night before. It finished with me trying my skill against the man from reception at the hostel, Lucas. I put up a good fight but my family won’t be surprised to hear that I lost.

Either way, Ireland was crazy, beautiful, and great fun. I’m glad we came, do, do, do, do.

Most of our Shamrocker tour group

Nikki Navratilova

Ireland: Last night I kissed a Leprechaun

Today was a day of adventure. I played Indiana Jones and crossed a rickety rope bridge, I played Dora the Explorer and climbed all over the Giant’s Causeway, and I played partygoer and ran around Belfast at 2am looking for a nightclub that wasn’t closing.

However our first stop for the day was the town of Derry, with a violent history of civil unrest. We took a walking tour around the town, learning about Northern Ireland’s links to England, and ‘The Troubles’ as they were called. This referred to a time of fighting between the Catholics and the Protestants over their independence from England.

Although fighting has almost completely ceased in Derry, the scars and reminders linger all over the town. A series of painted buildings housed touching and haunting murals, capturing the horrors of The Troubles.

Derry also has a big wall which encourages lots of marching, whether for protests and acts for change, or to commemorate events and people. This wall was also the site of the first ever catwalk, supposedly. Those more well off in Derry liked to dress up in their Sunday best and parade down the wall, showcasing their style and flair. Naturally, we had to have our own photo shoot and practice our walks on the runway.

Mwwaaahh

After driving through the bog side, we came across the Giant’s Causeway. A collection of thousands of hexagonal and the like shaped rocks, leading out towards Scotland. It is said that the Causeway came about from the days of the giant, Finn McCool. We heard countless stories about Mr McCool during our time in Ireland, and they all began with, “There once was a man, a horse of a man. And his name was Finn McCool.”

Part of the Giant's Causeway

Depending on who is telling the story, the Scots or the Irish, you will hear a different version of events. But both stories involve the biggest giant from Ireland, Finn McCool, preparing for battle with the biggest giant from Scotland, Fingal. It is said the distance from Ireland to Scotland was too big for Phil McCool to jump, so he created the Causeway in order to make the leap a little more manageable.

It wasn’t, of course, formed from volcanic rock.

Giant's Causeway

Giant's Causeway

I enjoyed climbing on the rocks, revisiting my days exploring Hanging Rock with my dad and the rock pools at the beach with my sisters. So what if I was racing little kids across the rocks? And winning?

Dora, Dora, Dora, the Explorer!

The next adventure for the day was crossing the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge onto a small fishing island. The fishermen used to fish for Salmon on the island over a few months of the year. Instead of sailing back and forth every time, they built a small rope bridge connecting the mainland to the island. After the fishing season was over, this bridge would then be let down, removing access to the island.

The Mainland

The bridge however has now been reinforced and is a popular tourist destination, although only eight people can still cross the bridge at one time. Indiana Jones, eat your heart out.

Raiders of the Lost Island (Ireland?)

From the island

Nikki Labourne and the Temple of Salmon

Tired after a long day? Us? Never!

Pulling into Belfast for the night we got dressed and ready for our last night on the Shamrocker Tour with our tour group. A delicious Chinese dinner, two bottles of wine, an interesting walk down the streets of Belfast and we were at Laverty’s Bar.

Shit got cray.

Ready for our last night on tour

Poor Ashii didn't realise how small she was

One of our tour guides, seriously

Baby Guinness is good. Wine is good.

More Baby Guinness

Our bus driver, Paddy Wagon

At 2am when the bar closed, we were all dressed up with nowhere to go. Apparently everything in Belfast is long closed by 2am. Determined not to be beaten, we walked a few blocks to see, ok maybe everything is closed.

But you can’t stop us. Party in the hostel! Beanbags were moved, bottles of cider were brought out and we partied into the early hours of the morning. To this date Livi’s Belfast hangover has been her worst. But so worth it, this will be one day to remember.

Nap time, did we forget to book beds again?

And as for the Leprechaun? I’m not one to kiss and tell, but David the Irishman was Irish, and looked nothing like a leprechaun. Need I say more?

Nikki, Nikki, Nikki the explorer. Vaminos!