After arriving on the Isle of Skye (Colin was right about it's beauty), we asked the very helpful lady at the information center in Dunvegan where her favorite place was. On her advice, the next day, we took a little trek through pastures and over stone walls to Crystal Beach (in a heavy Scottish mist - light American rain). Although most of the coast is comprised of black rock, this beach is swept with tons of shells turning it a light sand color. We didn't find any crystals.

Next we visited Dunvegan Castle, the ancestral home of Clan McLeod. Since the original 13th century fort, it has been the home of 30 generations of the chief of the MacLeods, and the 29th chief currently resides there (in the areas not open to visitors). The history and artifacts enclosed within these walls are amazing!

After leaving Skye, we retraced our route so that we could travel the length of Loch Ness. Although the area is gorgeous, quite a bit of commercialization of Nessie is apparent. It also seems to be a heavily favored holiday area. Although the view of the loch is obscured from the road by trees for most of it's length, we did find this overlook - but, sadly, the monster didn't put in an appearance.

Once past Loch Ness, we stayed in Inverness, where the City Hall is a bit confused about which era it belongs in. We had a delightful evening meal at a little cafe/restaurant, where we visited with a group of ladies from Wisconsin.

Heading south, we came across the Highland Folk Museum in Newtonmore. Along with many early 20th century structures (school room, furniture workshop, clock maker's shop, tailor's shop, curling pond & hut, and a complete farm), a small town depicting highland life of the 1700s had been built from scratch using tools and techniques of the age. We're glad we don't have to cook and heat with peat fires!

Stopping in Blair Atholl, we stayed at the Atholl Arms Hotel, an elegant old (built in 1832) hotel that has hosted royalty. Built on a reputation of comfort, service, and good food (which it certainly deserves) the accommodations were sumptuous and surprisingly affordable. The grand ballroom was where we ate our lavish (included) highland breakfast.

Blair Castle was begun as a tower in 1269, but has steadily grown through the generations. Even though the 10th Duke of Atholl placed the family castle into the public trust, the current Duke is a South African and only visits once a year to lead the Atholl Highlanders (his private army - the only one in Europe) on parade and hosts a variety of functions. Since photographs of the interior are not allowed, we spent considerably less time than we otherwise would have.

Leaving the highlands and continuing south around Edinbourgh, we stopped at the border to get a view of the lowlands we were heading into. By this time, Ann had switched to piloting the LT, and after a short adjustment time, she was enjoying her moving couch on wheels.

Further south, in Newton Aycliffe, we visited with cousin Valerie and husband Colin (who had come to the reunion in Newton Abbot), and met their son and his wife at a local pub. They are all into American west re-enactments, and Colin brought along a headdress he spent a year making. After closing the pub, we staggered across the parking lot to the hotel and bid adieu to a thoroughly facinating family.

From there, we went east to the North Sea. Following the coast road south through the North York Moors National Park, we kept getting a few glimpses of the sea, and although it was shrouded in mist, it didn't look particularly turbulent.

About half way through the park is the resort town of Whitby. Once a whaling and ship building port, it's most famous resident was Captain Cook whose Voyages of Discovery took him around the world and eventually to the 'discovery' of the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii) where he was killed by the locals in 1779. Even the infamous Count Dracula is said to have caused a ruckus here.

A little further south, we turned inland, and after a confusing ride through the walled center of York, we headed south again. Upon seeing a sign for Sherwood Forest, we decided to go see if Robin was around.

After a wander through the displays and watching a video (all of which told of the history of the surrounding area in the 1300s), we strolled around the grounds. Along the path, we came to the Major Oak, an 800 year old oak, now getting support from metal struts. A tree much like this is said to have hidden Robin and his Merrie Men, and under which Robin and Marian may have dallied (or not).

Having seen Robin's haunts, we tried for Nottingham Castle. When we ran out of signs pointing the way, with no castle in sight, we'd loop through downtown, found another sign, and repeated the process. After 45 minutes of fruitless searching, we parked the bikes and wandered through the lace district. Lace making was a huge industry for a time. We did manage to find Nottingham Caves, which are excavated under the city, and have been used as apartments, a tanner's shop, air raid shelters and much more throughout the years.

After staying at Mark & Christine's in Cheltenham for a delightful evening, we rode back to Reading to exchange the bikes for a small car. Then it was back to Newton Abbott where we had left half of our belongings with Paul & Anne. On one outing, we went to a pub in Dartmoor for lunch, and then to Hound Tor. Tor refers to a weathered granite outcrop, of which there are many in the park.

On a walk down the hill from the tor, we passed through the remnants of a pre-roman village. There is evidence of occupation in the moor dating back to before 5,000 BC. At the bottom of the hill is a lovely little creek, shrouded with trees, ferns and moss. On the way back, we stopped to watch a group of semi-wild Dartmoor Ponies (which are privately own, but run freely over the moor) feeding and begging for handouts.

Before we left, we got together again for an impromptu gathering with most of the local cousins at a pub in Totnes. Lots of stories were batted around between Brian, Paul, Anne, Sylvia, and Lionel (all to be taken with a grain of salt and lots of laughter).

As the evening wore on, a pair of bobbies (British Constables in her Majesty's Service) came in. We didn't think we were that rowdy, but Ann couldn't resist a photo op in the hallway outside the pub. We all left shortly thereafter.

The day before we left, Lionel & Sheryl invited us over form an informal, but very correct, Devon Tea. The yard, although small by American standards (every thing in England is), was a riot of flowers and plants which they take delight in. It even had a small koi pond with rather large fish in it. Then the four of us were off to the local church yard to look for the headstone of our grandfather.

On the way back to Reading to turn in the car and catch a bus back to Heathrow, we stopped at the Hawk Convervancy. They rehabilitate injured birds of prey (Hawks, Owls, Vultures, Falcons, Osprey, Eagles, and the odd Secretary Bird) and release them back to the wild whenever possible. Birds that have imprinted on humans are featured in free flying shows and student activities. Ann got the chance to lend her arm to a Tawny Owls after a show.

We were finally on our way home after a ten hour miserable experience at Heathrow. The only bright spot was an upgrade to business class on a plane that could actually make it all the way to San Francisco.

In all, it was a brilliant trip, both the time we spent getting to know Jym's cousins with his Mom, and the motorcycle wander around England, Wales, and Scottland with just the two of us. We'd do it all again in a minute!