Don’t miss the Isle of Skie. The bridge leading to it is like a portal. Beyond it, landscapes resembling the moon: black cliffs, waterfalls, lakes. Stroll to the Old Man of Storr—giant stone peaks that seem to have grown into the sky. Legend has it that it’s a transformed giant. Scientifically, it’s a remnant of the Ice Age. But in this place, you’ll believe the legend.
Highland Scots are silent. They don’t smile in public. But if you pop into a local pub, order a whiskey, and ask, “What do you recommend?” they’ll tell you a story that will be more memorable than any route.
The food here is simple: haggis (sheep’s entrails with oatmeal), beef jerky, oatmeal cookies. Don’t expect anything fancy. They value sincerity, not presentation.
Transportation: a car is the only option. The roads are single-lane, with “driveways” for oncoming traffic. But speed isn’t important. What matters is every second by the window.
There’s no Wi-Fi in the villages in the Highlands. No signal. No “lifestyle.” There’s real peace. And if you come here to “relax,” you’ll be disappointed. But if you come to recharge, you’ll take with you a silence that will stay with you forever.
In conclusion, the Highlands teach you one thing: you are not the center of the universe. And this is freedom.
