"NEW WORLDER GOES HOME" a Scotland Travel Page by mtncorg

The western isles of Scotland is where my paternal family lived for probably hundreds of years. Then in the last part of the 17th century, the earliest member I could trace back to, can be found in the Massachusetts Colony of the New World. Slowly, with the passage of time, the family moved westward across North America - New York State, Indiana, Illinois and finally, my great grandfather reached Oregon in the middle of the 19th century. Four generations of the family have lived here in the Beaver State - six generations of some branches - meaning our family has reached the edge of the Earth on our westward quest or that Oregon must suit some of us … for the moment, at least.

If Arthur Hailey can go back to Gambia in search of his ancestors, then I figured I could replicate his feat, even if nowhere near as eloquently. I am the first of my Oregon branch of the clan to return to the ancestral haunts, as far as I know. And what did I expect? An austere land, scenic in beauty; funny unintelligible accents; sparkling waters amidst ghost-haunted mountainsides; sheep and deer far outnumbering the locals; tradition; bad food, good whisky and local pubs in which to enjoy both in.

The Scotland I did find lived up to expectations for the most part. A land of historic and natural beauty, lashed by North Atlantic storms, expensive to North American dollars. I did not find my familial Kunta Kinte, but I did roam the ancestral glens, castles and shorelines. In doing so, I gained a better appreciation of factors that shaped the family history long ago - both my family and the families of so many others that look to Scotland as their ancestral homeland.

other fellow travelers. On the rare good weather days, I enjoyed the Hebridean landscape from the deck of a Cal/Mac ferry or atop a hard climbed peak in the Blac Cuillin of Skye or on the Isle of Arran. I even learned to tolerate the bad food - haggis is not as bad as it sounds - and found that the water of life - uisge beatha - can take the edge off of any rain-soaked day here close to its source. Plus, the flavors take on more visceral meanings as the terroir - the peat bogs, fields of barley, babbling tea-colored creeks and the sea lapping at the distillery doors - is relived again with each breath and sip.

A final note, my trip to Scotland was only two weeks long. It is possible to cover a lot more ground - including the more historic and royal areas found in eastern Scotland - in the same time period, but for my purposes, I stayed in the Western Highlands and Islands for the most part, making only one interesting foray into the Lowlands - New Lanark.