Daniel Williams

The next day we headed south to Poolewe (Pool You'). There we wanted to see the Inverewe Gardens, noted not only for beautiful British flowers but for a variety of tropical plants, including palm trees, able to survive beacuse of the warm current that flows by Loch Ewe. As we continued southward we were amused by some of the signs "Beware children playing" or "Beware sheep" (where Americans would use "caution" rather than "beware"); the signs gave us mental images of sheep or children leaping from hillsides onto our car, attacking us with hoofs or tiny fists.<BR><BR>Oh! The Inverewe gardens were lovely and extensive; I especially liked the Walled Garden with typical and unusual specimens of flowers. The delphiniums were in bloom and there were some interesting wild geraniums. Trees with unusual barks and shapes were fascinating; and of course, the gardens are right by Loch Ewe.<BR><BR>I had seen a lovely picture of a Poolewe B&B, but it was fully booked. We randomly picked a B&B down the road; as it turned out, our little B&B was wonderful and had a better view than the one we'd missed. The cottage was called Benlair, owned by Katie MacDonald. It was six miles from Poolewe down one of those one-lane, sheep-populated roads. We were cosseted from the moment we arrived.<BR><BR>Mrs. McDonald strode out to meet us. She showed us a comfortable bedroom with TV, coffee-makings, an adjoining bathroom with heated towel racks, more than we could expect. It was wet and chilly outside so we welcomed her question "Would you like me to put the kettle on for a cup of tea?". She showed us into a cozy little sitting room;; a small dining table had a view overlooking her garden and Loch Ewe. She had a coal fire going in the fireplace.<BR><BR>Katie liked to give us privacy in the sitting room, but before she retired she did offer us a bit of local history. During WW2 byond Benlair there was a tragic shipwreck. A sudden snowstorm dashed the USS William Welsh on the rocky coast, renting the ship in two. Sailors were swept off the deck in the gale-force winds. Only 14/70 survived. The one surviving officer was smased again and again on the rough shore, his clothes torn from his body. He was a strong man, but the elements were winning. It was night and snowy, but 2 poor crofter women struggled to the rescue. They brought their precious only hand-woven blankets and warming tea and picked their down the cliff paths. After cleaning a fist-full of oil from the officers' mouth, nose and ears, they wrapped him in blankets and managed to haul him up the cliff paths. The crofters, later joined by military personnel, searched for survivors that night. Even after the sailors were indoors being treated, crofters came bringing gifts of eggs or bread made with meager flour rations. David and I made a point of going to this site of heroism and kindness the next day. <BR><BR>Our drive back to Inverness was mostly in the rain. Nessy was elusive once again. The scenery was indeed gorgeous but we were grateful when David pulled the car safely into the car rental place.<BR><BR>End (Part 3 of 3) Mother's account of trip to Scotland to thank helpful Fodorites.

mary

Inverewe gardens are so beautiful aren't they? I love the part about the road signs!

Karen

have thoroughly enjoyed all three parts! I agree with a previous poster- and if your mother does not write for a living perhaps she should start now!

anon

topping

Daniel Williams

I thank you all for your kind words, which I will pass along to my mother. She was an ESL/French teacher for many years and did send one children's book for publication many years ago. I can assure you that any missing words/typo mistakes are all mine.