The Alcalde's Photo Editor Explores Scotland
On the morning of day one, our coach stuttered to life outside Glasgow’s Central Station, and Eric from the Pans—a man whose weathered hands seemed to have steered every mile of Scotland—announced with theatrical gravitas that we were about to “do it proper, Matt.” What followed was nothing short of a pilgrimage through stunning Scotland.
Our group of Flying Longhorns wandered among New Lanark’s industrial ghosts and the treasures of the Kelvingrove Museum. Stirling Castle was magnificent, perched above the valley like it was still expecting trouble. Glencoe hit different—properly moody, the kind of landscape that makes you understand why Highlanders were so bloody-minded about everything. At Balachulish Hotel, the sunset was genuinely spectacular, though the haggis at breakfast did not suit this photographer from West Texas. Eric found this hilarious.
Inveraray Castle looked suitably grand (it was, after all, where they filmed that Downton Abbey Christmas special). We dutifully crossed Loch Ness—dark water, no monsters—before Inverness worked its magic. There’s something about a Highland pub that turns complete strangers into lifelong friends. Culloden was sobering; St. Andrews, windswept and salty; and finally Edinburgh embraced us during the Military Tattoo’s diamond anniversary, the Royal Mile thrumming with performers, bagpipes, and centuries of stories. We’d done it proper, indeed.
CREDIT: Matt Wright-Steel
