Five Things I Wish I had Realized Before Visiting Scotland with Kids

We had a whirlwind seven days spinning around Scotland with kids, which, I think, officially makes us experts. Not true. Not at all. The only thing that it taught us, like really really taught us, is that we need to dedicate a lot more time to this little nation that has so much to offer beyond kilts and bagpipes, haggis and Scotch.

We cruised through farmlands, hills, mountains, and cities. Found islands and shorelines. We made our home in city apartments, mountain resorts, and small village inns. And in all of that movement and in each nook and cranny we crawled into, we met amazing people, ate food rich in texture and taste, and saw sunshine and rain cohabiting across the countryside. Still, there were a few aspects of our travel through Scotland with kids I was ill-prepared for because I had no idea or because I just didn’t think it through.

Make Reservations

We generally plan ahead a bit when traveling. Scratch that. We’re actually big planners, but we’re also fine when those plans have to get tossed at the last minute (say because we’re facing a series of epic meltdowns as a result of a small cut on a foot…not speaking from experience though). But, going against our better senses, we hadn’t made any real reservations for dinner during our trip to Scotland; we were relying on the “we’ll just show up” theory of eating. On our first day (in Edinburgh), we were left with some hangry kids, as we got turned away again and again at each deliciously smelling place we walked into. So we got smart enough to make reservations.

See, we’re not super foodies, but we do like good food, so swinging by a little sandwich shop or fish and chips shop and taking the goodies home with us wasn’t an option we were too keen on doing every night. And since little people can’t be in pubs after 5 pm, we found there weren’t that many options within walking distance of our airbnb beyond fine dining (which suited us, but maybe isn’t for every family). The service at these restaurants was hit or miss as some restaurants were more than willing to accommodate our three little people, but others it was clear that they were a bit less than comfortable. Fortunately we have eaters, so we never really had an issue, but a bit more research and some reservations could’ve helped us here.

Additionally, when we reached a resort for the evening, feeling a bit road weary and hungry, we anticipated getting into dinner in one of their two restaurants wouldn’t be too hard. Not a crazy assumptions since it was so late, right?  Wrong. It was hours and hours and hours to wait. And all the restaurants in the little mountain town? Hours and hours and hours at them too. So, we ended up eating food we ordered from the bar in the hotel lobby bar while sitting on a couch by the front door. Not so bad, really, as we were literally surrounded in a sea of families doing the same thing. (And that little set up only took about an hour to get us our food, not the two we had been told it may be…). So, reservations. It’s better to have them and break them then just hope that food will magically find you when you’re little people are at the breaking point.

Travel with Rain or Hiking Boots

I’ll admit: this should’ve been a pretty obvious one to me. But for some reason I guess I just missed this memo. I thought that I’d be too uncomfortable traipsing around the city in Wellies to take them (and they take up just so much space). But you know what’s more uncomfortable? Wet feet. Wet. Soggy. Feet. And that was just the city walks.

We knew we were going to be in the Highlands, in Isle of Skye. It wasn’t a surprise, but still. I dropped the ball on this one. Knowing that we had the littles in tow meant that we were going to be taking some easy hikes—nothing too difficult. Nothing that would really require the traction and support of a hiking boot. A simple sneaker would do. And maybe it would’ve. If it weren’t soaking wet out everywhere (which is how Scotland is…I knew this too…). So, yeah, that traction would’ve served me well as I helped a three year old and a six year old jump across slippery rocks to avoid falling in freezing water. And perhaps it would’ve meant that my feet wouldn’t have been coated in wet brown mud that had seeped through the mesh of my sneakers when I was walking along the fairy glen—you know, the one where there are no paths and people have made so many in them that they’re just pits of mud, especially on rainy days. Like the ones Scotland has all. the. time. So, learn from my epic, wet-footed failure (to be fair, I did pack the kids boots, so little people toes did not suffer…and every day I was thankful for that because who knows what kind of anger that could’ve produced in the irrational moments of toddlerdum).

Bring a Wash Cloth

Pretty simple really. Bring a wash cloth. I thought that the lack of a washcloth was just a facet of our airbnb, but it seemed it was the same thing in the two hotels we stayed at as well (one a large resort and one a small Inn). See, while in Scotland, we were all given hand towels, which, yes, was appreciated and awesome. And, honestly, I don’t know if I was supposed to use them as hand towels or as wash cloths. But, I did what any mom has to do when her little people are covered in a day of muck they picked up on some amazing explorations: I used it as a wash cloth. But, I’m just not used to having to clean my little people with a hand towel, so I felt a bit like I was washing them with two hands that had no thumbs. I was just clumsy and awkward. It was a circus show really: trying to wash ears and ending up with wet towel in the eyes or mouth too. Yes, by the end of the trip, I caught on, mostly. But there was a learning curve for me and it wasn’t pretty (but it was clean).

Tread Softly

I feel like I’m seeing Scotland advertised all around me. It’s on FaceBook ads, on the tips of friends’ tongues, highlighted on tv. It is popping up in magazines and billboards. And along with that, it means that country is getting more visitors. No place was this more evident than the Isle of Skye. We were staying in a small town inn mere minutes from the fairy glen in the northern part of the Isle. While we were having dinner in the inn, two older, local couples were seated near us (it was a small dining room so this was not hard to do). My middle little needed to use the restroom and his father took him, much to the sorrow of the tiniest little. He ran after them; I quickly snatched him up and brought him to the table where he was instantly calmed down by the biggest little and I. Then, out of nowhere, with all the remaining troops quiet, we were verbally attacked by one of the local women at the table. (And speaking on the behalf of my little people, they really were too tired to do much more than sit in their seats and eat.) Fortunately, just as my frazzled mother nerves were about to give way to complete and utter devastation, another kind couple came up and reassured me that my littles hadn’t been disruptive at all and were so well behaved.

Still a bit shaken and feeling a bit confused, the next day we got up and went to the Fairy Glens. And when I saw what was happening around me, the lack of respect, the disregard for the people who lived there, I finally got it. As we were driving on the small single lane road towards the Fairy Glen, we passed by notices that motor coaches were not permitted past a certain point, but a few minutes after we arrived, guess what pulled up? And people came streaming out. I was told that often those drivers of the motor coaches will encourage tourists to create formations with the rocks in the area, again changing the landscape of an area that is at its best without human interference.

The Fairy Glens have no “stay on the path” markings yet, so people can traipse throughout them wherever they feel like. And in an environment that sees a great deal of rain, it means that the ground is ripped up and turned into huge mud pits–mud pits people don’t want to walk through so walk around, creating even more mud pits and tearing up more land. There is trash left behind, ground destroyed, and calm silence broken. It was upsetting to see, and it isn’t even my home. Then I knew: the woman and her party weren’t really disrupted by my children. Their way of living is constantly disrupted by travelers like us. She didn’t know that we aimed to treat her home with respect and gentleness. She didn’t know that we aimed to leave it better than we found it. While there was no way I could have prevented her anger, having this in mind would have saved me considerable anxiety and anger at having my children criticized.

Bring More Time

I know. I know. Not possible. Here or anywhere else in the world. I’ve come to figure out that no matter where we go, we’re always going to leave that place wanting and needing to come back. The thing is, I had never expected to feel this so profoundly as I did when we were in Scotland. Each of us wanted more of something. More time to explore the coasts. More castles. More mountains. More hikes. More cows (those little creatures are so cute it’s ridiculous). The nearly two year old just yelled for more sheep the entire time. Like for days.

When we were planning this trip, we tried desperately to get a real path down for our fast but furious drive into the highlands and Isle of Skye. We changed in once, twice, a third time. I read books, blogs and FaceBook groups. But no one, not a single person, gave me the same itinerary. It was as though every one had a different “must see” place in Scotland. And I get it now. We just kind of meandered our way through. But with every new twist in the road, every change in the angle of the sun or the movement of the clouds, every crest of mountain, it became increasingly evident we needed more time to take this country in. It was the landscape, the tiny towns, and the cities. The landmarks. The people. The history. We squeezed in so much, but left feeling like our relationship with this nation had just begun.

If every place was just like the one we left, what would be the point in going? Fortunately, Scotland has so many ins and outs, each moment of each day was something new and just as amazing as the last. Perhaps the most amazing moment was spending our twelfth wedding anniversary in a family-owned pizza shop in a tiny country-side village, chatting away with the lovely owner about her nation and about our little people. I didn’t realize that that would happen either, but I will be forever grateful it did.

Have you had any of those places where the longer you were there, the more you time you found you needed? We’re always on the hunt for new places, so drop us a comment below!