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Wherever It Leads… Scotland

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When Bagpipes Make You Cry: A Deep Dive Into Scotland’s Soul

If the sound of bagpipes makes you tear up, or if you’ve ever felt an inexplicable pull toward misty highlands and ancient castles, this episode is for you.

“There’s nothing like the peace found in Scottish seaside towns. This is Inverness, on the Northern coast. The 10 p.m. sunset in July made it particularly easy to do a sunset beach walk!”

– Grace Hills

Scotland is having a moment. With roughly one million Americans visiting in 2025 alone, this small nation of 5.5 million people is punching well above its weight—and not just in tourism numbers. From the telephone to penicillin, from golf to the steam engine, Scotland’s contributions to the world are staggering. But there’s so much more to this country than Outlander filming locations and Loch Ness Monster selfies.

On a boat on Loch Ness. Can you see Nessie?

In this episode, journalist Grace Hills takes you beyond the postcard-perfect landscapes into the real Scotland—the one locals live in, the one that carries centuries of complex history, and the one that desperately needs thoughtful visitors right now.

Maybe you’re one of the millions of Americans tracing Scottish ancestry. Maybe you’ve been dreaming of standing on the same soil your great-great-grandparents left behind. Or maybe you just want to understand why this small country—roughly the size of South Carolina—has such an outsized presence in our collective imagination. Whatever brought you here, prepare to see Scotland differently.

Grace, Grace’s Mom, and Grace’s great-great-great- grandfather, James Young Simpson.

He advanced the use of anesthesia in medicine, and after Queen Victoria used anesthesia for child birth he became quite popular — it’s said that 100,000 people attended his funeral.

What You’ll Discover

The Real Scotland:

Tour guides Leslie and James from Tour Guides Scotland share what it’s actually like to live in a country still navigating its relationship with England, where the Protestant-Catholic divide still echoes in football rivalries, and where the phrase “we’re all Jock Thompson’s bairns” (we all came from the same place) captures the Scottish spirit of radical equality.

The conversation gets real, fast. We’re talking about the Highland Clearances—when English landowners literally burned people out of their homes and destroyed their crops. We’re talking about a language (Gaelic) that nearly went extinct because it was outlawed. We’re talking about how bagpipes were once classified as “an instrument of war” and banned entirely.

But here’s what struck me most: despite centuries of brutal colonization, modern Scots don’t harbor hatred toward English people. As Leslie puts it: “The English as a people, as a race of people, we don’t have anything… we don’t have any problems with… unless it comes to football.” The issue isn’t with individuals—it’s with a system of governance that still drowns out Scottish voices in Parliament.

“James and Leslie weren’t kidding, football rivalries are no joke. This was at a pub in Glasgow near the Orange March.”

– Grace Hills

And then there’s the Scottish approach to community that feels almost revolutionary in our current moment. Scotland operates on what Leslie calls socialist principles—though she’s quick to clarify: “We don’t mean that you can sit on your butt and everything handed to you. That’s not how it works. But we look out for those that have the least.”

Case in point: Scotland’s baby box system ensures every single child born in the country receives identical supplies before birth, regardless of their family’s income. Every child gets the same start.

As Leslie explains: “We’re not really impressed by money and wealth… We’re more impressed with what you can have in here and your attitude to other people and how you treat other people.”

A Dark History Reclaimed:

Jude (aka Juniper Clayborn) from Witch Tour Edinburgh walks us through one of history’s most brutal chapters—when approximately 4,000 people, 85% of them women, were accused of witchcraft in Scotland. This wasn’t just medieval superstition; it was systematic oppression dressed up as religious duty.

The parallels to today are impossible to ignore. As Jude points out, these accusations ramped up during times of crisis—a mini ice age, crop failures, starvation, political upheaval. Sound familiar? “Let’s look for somebody who doesn’t look like us and doesn’t behave like us, make them the problem and justify hurting them,” she says. “I think witch hunts are alive and well.”

The stories are haunting and infuriating in equal measure. Lilias Adie was a simple woman, over six feet tall with a small head, who lent money to neighbors without being strict about repayment. She was accused by a drunk woman who owed her money. Geillis Duncan was a maid who snuck out at night to help sick people—and was tortured for her kindness. Janet Horne, likely suffering from dementia, was paraded through the streets covered in tar and burned alive in 1727 for allegedly turning her disabled daughter into a pony.

And then there were the “witch prickers”—men who made careers out of stabbing accused women all over their naked bodies in front of crowds of important men, looking for “the devil’s mark.” They earned about £5,000 in today’s money per witch found. The more witches they identified, the more money they made. Imagine the incentive structure there.

“Imagine I’m accused,” Jude says. “I’m stripped, shaved on every inch of my body. I stand in front of 30 of the most important men in my village. They’re all looking at me, and then they start to stab me all over.”

But Jude’s tour isn’t just about horror—it’s about reclamation. “Witchly qualities aren’t evil and magic to hurt people,” she reminds us. “They’re kindness and community and discernment and courage.” Those women had courage. They had to.

The Tourism Challenge:

Scotland’s beauty is both its greatest asset and its biggest challenge. Edinburgh hosts 5 million visitors annually—nearly 10 times its population. During the famous August festivals, 4 million people flood the city in a single month. The Isle of Skye, with just over 10,000 residents, sometimes receives 2,000 cruise ship passengers in a single weekend.

The strain is real. Short-term vacation rentals have contributed to a housing crisis, with locals priced out of their own neighborhoods. The North Coast 500—Scotland’s answer to Route 66—has brought unprecedented numbers to remote communities with roads never designed for heavy traffic. As Grace notes in the episode, “Local residents report feeling like tourism is something being done to them, not with them.”

But there’s a better way to visit. This episode offers practical guidance on responsible tourism: traveling in shoulder seasons (May, early June, or September), supporting local and independent businesses, using Scotland’s excellent public transit, and remembering that those picturesque closes and staircases are people’s actual homes, not just photo backdrops.

A Highland Cow, or as the Scotts say — a Hairy Coo! These cuties are iconic to Scotland — and their little furry faces are on nearly every bit of tourist merch.

James from Tour Guides Scotland puts it perfectly: “Please, please, please, don’t try and rush Scotland. Scotland flows at a different pace that you’re used to… if you came here for seven days and you only seen half of the things you thought you were going to see, but you’ve really enjoyed the immersive experiences, that would be worth so much more than just ticking a box.”

A bagpiper in the Highlands.

Additional Resources

Listen now and discover why Scotland isn’t just a destination—it’s a feeling, a history, and a call to travel more thoughtfully.