Spectacular Scotland

Scene from the beach where we picnicked
with the Mitchells on our last day in Scotland

“This beverage is actually illegal in Canada,” Mrs. Mitchell said as she poured me a glass. “It probably has something to do with this label, here.”

I squinted at the fine print on the bottle of orange liquid, a distinctly Scottish soft drink termed Irn-Bru. (That’s pronounced “iron brew,” and make sure to roll those r’s!) May cause an adverse affect on activity and attention in children. Hmmm. I took a sip. I still can’t tell you what it tastes like—a drink that combines 32 flavours will do that to your descriptive abilities. 

But it’s good. 

You can read the label for yourself!

Testing mysterious beverages, however, was only the beginning of our three day’s experience in Scotland. Our friends the Mitchells, the pastor family with whom we are staying, have done a highly thorough job of helping Jonathan and me tap into our Scottish roots. So far, for example, we’ve breakfasted on white (and black) puddings, explored the castle belonging to the clan of our great, great grandmother, and discovered that haggis is actually rather tasty.

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On Tuesday I went with the Mitchells to clamber up the grassy slopes of a place called Fairy Glen, the mysterious hills of which are—tall tale has it—burial grounds of Viking ships. Gazing out across the curious green mounds and boulderous slopes that comprised the site, featuring low rocky plateaus and other natural monuments rising among the misty highland vistas, I could almost believe it.

In the afternoon I had the chance to meet a new homeschool family for lunch, which was great fun. Especially because I had never before met homeschoolers with Scottish accents. After an afternoon exploring Portree and hiking some local trails, we spent the evening with the homeschool family again, playing card games and snacking on toast with tea.

Wednesday, we set out with another couple of families—one of whom owned a sightseeing tour bus—to go to Dunvegan Castle, home of the chiefs of clan MacLeod. Our ancestral clan. That’s how I found myself buckled in a minibus, surrounded by small children with awesome accents, cruising down the rainy, narrow roads toward one of Scotland’s oldest castles, Toby Mac music pumping through the stereo. The castle itself was very, very cool, boasting a dungeon, a 15^th century sword, and all the towers and turrets a proper medieval castle should include.

But one of the neatest portions of our time here happened Wednesday evening, in the upper room of a little, white church—the oldest still-in-use church on the Isle. There, in that little church tucked among the rainy hills of Skye, Jonathan and I had the privilege of presenting a message and stories from our mission trip to a Wednesday night Bible study group. The mutual encouragement of meeting with other members of the Body of Christ, of remembering that His kingdom is at work in every country, of sharing stories of what He is doing internationally...that's something I don't think I will ever grow tired of experiencing.

Haggis (brown blob by the knife) is always eaten with
turnips (orange blob above the haggis)