KYLEAKIN, Scotland -- There is indeed poetry in the geography of the Highlands of Scotland.

The country's laureate poet, Robert Burns, etched the literary vision hundreds of years ago:

"My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;

"My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;

"Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,

"My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go."

Lured by that romantic vision, visitors may follow the seductive sound of the Scottish Sirens to the Isle of Skye.

We rented a car in Glasgow and set off north for the Highlands, stopped on the way at Balloch at the northern end of Loch Lomond, boated the lake and walked a bit on its bonnie banks before settling in at a bed-and-breakfast inn for the night -- our home of choice wherever we were in the countryside.

While it is wise to make these reservations in advance, we winged it, taking advantage of good fortune and, at times, the helpful Information Centers that are available in most every town in the country. They not only provide information and souvenirs, but for a small fee (about $6) they will book your accommodations in the area.

On the road bright and early, and growing accustomed to driving on the left -- though occasionally killing some weeds on the unfamiliar side -- we headed for Skye, known as the "misty island," just off the coast of the Western Highlands. The roads, though still good, narrowed a bit and became far more curvy as they snaked through the braes (hills) and the bens (mountains).

You can tell you're getting closer to the Highlands when the deer-crossing warnings become alerts for wandering sheep, as the sheep -- their wool often marked with a colorful splotch for identification -- seem to outnumber the people and the cars.

You can spot some of the hirsute Highland cattle, too, with their distinctive long bangs over their eyes, a natural protection developed over centuries to cope with the windswept and rain-soaked habitat.

Road signs were another indication of the Highlands, as they doubled identification of towns and villages with the equivalent name in Gaelic.

There are spectacular vistas at every turn. And there are many turns. Fortunately, there also are numerous lay-bys -- a British term for roadside parking -- and pull-overs for the requisite photos of one of nature's spectacular shows, with every twist in the road a new act.

The glens and the lochs. Green meadows overlooked by the Cuillin Hills. Clouds dropping down over the mountaintops to greet viewers. Trees unspoiled by progress, lined up with an artist's eye. Flowers, yellow and purple amidst the brown bristles.

It is an area deservedly known for its hiking and fishing, but we were more than content just to breathe in the stunning scenes before us.

It is indeed a poet's canvas.

We savored just two days on Skye, visiting, in particular, Dunvegan Castle, a rare aristocratic home still lived in, currently by the 29th head of the MacLeod clan.

We lucked into a weather aberration; it was sunny and warm most of the time. The Scots considered it a heat wave. It got up to near 70 degrees, with little rain.

But don't count on sunshine. Rain is generally a given in Scotland, especially in the Western Highlands and the islands, the wettest of all. It rains so much that it is no wonder that Scottish men are called Mac, a national joke.

On to Inverness, in central Scotland, with a stop at Drumnadrochit, halfway up Loch Ness. Can't go to Scotland without paying respects to "Nessie," the legendary sea monster that has made this town a tourist mecca.

Of course, no visit to the birthplace of golf would be complete without time for 18 holes. We chose a picturesque course on the Moray Firth near Inverness. Golf course choices are numerous, except in the northern Highlands and some islands. With some 540 golf courses and about 5 million residents, Scotland may have the highest ratio of courses to people in the world.

Then it was on to Edinburgh, Scotland's capital. Park the car here. Walk the streets -- certainly the Princes Street shops -- or hop on a tour bus or public bus and get to Edinburgh Castle, the historic symbol of this historic city.

"Such dusky grandeur clothed the height,

"Where the huge castle holds its state,

"And all the steep slope down,

"Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky,

"Piled deep and massy, close and high,

"Mine own romantic town!"

Sir Walter Scott knew what he was writing about. No wonder they created a monument for him in the city. And you can climb its 278 steps for yet another wondrous view of the city from on high.