The atmospheric Isle of Skye — with its cloudy, misty skies, endless green hills covered with heather, and mysterious mountain formations — seemed like an enchanted magical land, straight out of a fairytale. I wanted to finally see it in person, not just in photos, before I turned 70. With only one more year to go, it was now or never.
So I decided to fulfil my lifelong dream of visiting the Isle of Skye in the Scottish Highlands.
I wanted to travel solo but due to the challenges of fibromyalgia, I didn’t know how I’d be able to make this journey without carrying my suitcase.
Although I had watched “send ahead” videos on TikTok, there were no send-ahead options for the Isle of Skye. There were no planes flying directly from Edinburgh. And hiring a car from Edinburgh was monetarily and physically out of the question because it would be an eight-hour ride.
Other options were a bus to Inverness, where the driver could assist me with the luggage; or joining a group tour from Edinburgh to the Isle of Skye and back (but since I wanted to stay in Skye for a few days, that wasn’t for me). Finally, I could take a train from Edinburgh to Inverness, the capital of the Highlands.
I liked the train idea because it would be more scenic, romantic, and dramatic. I’d feel more like a local rather than a tourist. It was a more sustainable option. And I was especially happy to learn that ScotRail, the primary train service in Scotland and the most popular, offered special assistance to help passengers with their luggage.
So, I decided to take the 3-hour train from Edinburgh to Inverness, and then have a driver take me the 105 miles directly to the Isle of Skye.
While attending the Edinburgh Fringe Festival (also on my bucket list), I took a break to pop into the ScotRail administrative office. The staff took my name, contact details, the times of my train rides and my destination.
They said on the day of the trip l should go to the station’s entrance, press a button for assistance and someone would respond through an intercom. Not even a phone! Just a special white button and a speaker.
It was all very old-fashioned and pre-technology. Almost magical. As if by pressing that button, I was time-travelling back to the golden age of train transport.
On the day I left for Inverness, a taxi driver helped with my luggage at the hotel and dropped me off at Edinburgh Waverley station. Anxiously, I pressed the button as instructed, fearing no one would respond, leaving me helpless with my suitcase.
To my relief, a voice asked for my name and confirmed my train details. Moments later, two teenagers arrived, introduced themselves, and took charge of my suitcase. They escorted me to the administrative office, promising to return after assisting other passengers.
I waited patiently, people-watching, checking my watch every so often, hoping my assistants were reliable and would keep their word. I sighed with further relief when one of them showed up and helped carry my suitcase through the station which was bustling with people. When we arrived at the platform, my train was just sitting there quietly as if resting before starting its journey to the Highlands.
When it was time to board, my assistant helped me put the suitcase on a rack. We both wished each other well and I was back on my own.
The train seats were very comfortable. Not too cushiony but not like you were sitting on wires. The ride was smooth, not bumpy. I knew I had made the right decision.
Throughout the journey, my eyes were glued to the window, mesmerised by the rolling hills cloaked with vibrant shades of emerald green. Mountains loomed in the distance, some shrouded in mist while others were drenched in sunlight. I would only break away from the window briefly to take photos and videos. The closer we got to Inverness, the more breathtaking the scenery.
The train was full when I first got on but during the second hour, it started emptying out except for a crowd of people laughing and talking animatedly. I could hear their Scottish accents. Probably locals, I thought.
Before I knew it, we had arrived in Inverness. How many times I had heard that city’s name on my favourite show, Outlander, and now I was really here!
A ScotRail worker helped me retrieve my suitcase and escorted me to the taxi stand.
I overnighted in Inverness, and the next morning, a friendly and professional driver picked me up to drive to the Isle of Skye. As we crossed Skye Bridge, I started seeing rolling hills blanketed in a tapestry of heather with colours ranging from soft lavender to deep mauve, just like in the photos and TV shows I had seen for years.
“Would it be all right if we stop so I could get some heather?” I asked, wanting some for my hotel room and hopefully to take back home.
As I pulled some heather from the ground, it released a subtle sweet fragrance. I inhaled deeply, almost faint from the perfumy scent. I retrieved more until I had a small bouquet.
When we finally arrived at my hotel in Portree, my driver helped me carry my suitcase to the reception desk. I was thrilled that I had made it to Skye — and on my milestone birthday, just as I had planned!
