Isle of Skye and Highlands highlights

Scotland - a land of glens and lochs, whisky and long-haired cows. This is how the media represents Scotland. But when you immerse yourself in this austere land, where the radio plays exclusively a grate and drone of bag-pipes, you'll slowly also come to appreciate the Black Face and his pivotal role in shaping Scotland.



No. We're not referring to this guy.

The Black Face has a crooked horn; sometimes two. He is unclean. He speaks rarely, and in monosyllables; ruminating rather on the theatre of his destruction: a wasteland far and wide. Entire mountains bleak, valleys brown, not a tree as far as the eye can see, no blade of grass that his tongue hasn't caressed and tooth torn.

Once upon a time there were nymphs and glades that comprised Scotland. Such pockets can still be found where barriers have been built against the Black Face and his ladies. From time to time a Scotsman ventures forth and grabs a Black Face by the horn, dragging him kicking back to the chopping block. And the axe will come summarily down on his neck. On that night we'll have a good bit of haggis.

But the trees won't grow in any case - there are simply to many millions of Black Faces around.