I tend to avoid hyperbole, so when I claim that the Isle of Skye, Scotland, is the most picturesque destination I have visited, I’m not exaggerating. It was too difficult to pick just ten photos for the customary Instagram post I make for each destination, so I ended up posting a lot more. The selection I have here includes some of my favorites. Really, my two weeks on the island didn’t do the location justice, nor did my photos—I was so busy with work that most of my time there was spent behind my computer. When I did have time to venture forth and explore, it was limited; I would have taken more photos if it weren’t for that gosh darn obligatory need to earn money.
Skye has its own distinct culture and history within Scotland. I was attracted to it by my lovely friend Michelle, a native of Portree, Scotland, who encouraged me to visit during the best time—summer. Initially, I wanted to come in September, but she said that would be too late as summer would be over—crazy, right? So, I carved out two whole weeks in July for the trip instead. I’m glad I allotted extra time—typically, my trips are shorter, but I figured I would be working a lot, and it would give me a buffer in case I had more work than I was anticipating, which I did.
The weather also helped me out. More than half of the time I was stuck working behind my computer, the weather was rainy, cloudy, and cold—the perfect setting for spending the day working. Michelle was a real sport; she had expected (against my warnings) that I would have more time available for fun, play, and exploring the island and was disappointed to see that my nomadic lifestyle often involves extended periods of time chained to my computer while I extract money from its keyboard. I balance my freedoms and responsibilities like everyone else.
Michelle is a great ambassador to her country and city, and so were her parents. Her father, who met her mother while working in Brazil as a seaman, fell in love with the country and his future wife. He made me dinner one night, which was a privilege because that’s what he does for the rest of the crew while working on ships out at sea. Michelle maintains dual citizenship between Scotland and Brazil, which I think must be two of the most opposite countries in terms of culture and history.
Michelle was also a great ambassador to her other country, Brazil, when I met her in Rio de Janeiro in early 2022. I was there celebrating a friend’s 30th birthday, and Michelle was there, balancing time in Scotland with plenty of healthy Rio sunshine and beach. So when she encouraged me to visit Skye, of course, I added it to my ever-growing travel queue; it only took a year and a half to get there, which is actually quite fast! (Taiwan, Zimbabwe, and New Caledonia are jealous by comparison).
When I was on the Isle of Skye, it was easy to imagine life 500 years ago with kilted Highlanders, scotch, and claymores battling Englishmen. The scenery truly evokes a romantic fantasy, especially for someone like me, a white guy whose family descended from Scotland. Well, at least part of my family heritage is Scottish, and it claims the Scottish tartan, Gunn. Now, since my last name isn’t Gunn, I’ve never claimed to be a Gunn, nor worn the tartan to signify as much. But I will say that for a time, I had a Gunn tartan kilt that I wore to the gym and when exercising. Kilts are very comfortable, and not wearing underwear is such a privilege that it isn’t currently clear to me why men haven’t embraced kilts—Men: you should. If women wear pants, you can wear a kilt without fear of shame. I, in fact, argue that being underwear-free is masculating (to coin a term).
I had the privilege of visiting the birthplace of Drambuie, a famous Scottish liqueur most famous for its part in making the drink called a “Rusty Nail.” You just take whisky, or scotch, and add Drambuie to it (to taste), and that’s a Rusty Nail. The legend goes that the recipe was a closely guarded secret of dozens of different ingredients (herbs, spices, that sort of thing) that was traded for… something. I can’t remember the details, but feel free to Google it—I’m sure you’ll get the whole story. Anyway, you can visit the bar at the Inn where that transaction took place, it’s on the Isle of Skye, and I did. It’s as charming as you might imagine, and having a Rusty Nail there is ten times more fun than anywhere else.
Thank you Michelle, Scotland and Skye for allowing me to visit. Truly a top notch experience for me with memories I have and will continue to cherish.
