Michael: Alright Kevin, I'm sending you on a road trip through the Scottish Highlands in a camper van. Your co-pilot is an adrenaline junkie who admits he can't drive a manual. What's your five-word review of that vacation? Kevin: Five words? "My will is in glovebox." Michael: That is perfect. And that's pretty much the brilliant premise of the book we're diving into today: Clanlands: Whisky, Warfare, and a Scottish Adventure Like No Other by Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish. Kevin: Ah, the Outlander guys. I'm guessing this isn't your standard, quiet historical tour. Michael: Not even close. And what's wild is this whole thing—the book, the TV show Men in Kilts that it inspired—it all started from their shared passion for Scotland on the set of Outlander. It wasn't a studio-concocted project; it was genuinely two guys, a van, and a very, very loose plan. Kevin: Okay, a loose plan and a terrible driver. Let's start there. How bad does it get? Because if it's anything like my last road trip, I have a feeling I'm going to relate to the passenger.

Michael: It gets magnificently bad, almost immediately. The book opens with Graham McTavish, who plays the fierce war chief Dougal MacKenzie, buckling up in the passenger seat of this massive camper van. He is filled with a sense of pure dread because Sam Heughan, who plays the heroic Jamie Fraser, is behind the wheel. Kevin: Oh, I can feel the tension already. This is the classic odd couple setup. Michael: Exactly. Graham is thinking about Sam's past driving incidents in Los Angeles. Meanwhile, Sam is trying to get the van into reverse, and the gearbox lets out this blood-curdling screech. Graham describes Sam as "smiling like a psychopath." Then Sam casually admits he hasn't driven a manual car in years and jokes that he doesn't know which pedal is which. Kevin: Come on! He’s joking, right? Please tell me he's joking. Michael: It's hard to tell! Because the next thing he does is back out of the parking space at full speed, forcing Graham to grab onto the handrail for dear life. He then crashes the gearstick into first and misses the sign for the Kingshouse Hotel by mere inches. This is all on page one of their adventure. Kevin: Wow. So the danger isn't just from ancient clan rivalries, it's from the guy in the driver's seat. Is this dynamic—Sam the reckless one, Graham the grumpy, cautious one—just for laughs, or does it actually define their whole journey? Michael: It absolutely defines it. This isn't just a gimmick; it's the engine of the entire book. Sam himself says he's a "'let's get sh*t done' type of guy" and that a road trip with a mate, meeting characters, and drinking whisky is his ideal history field trip. He wants to dive in headfirst. Graham, on the other hand, is more of a connoisseur. He appreciates fine wine, good food, and not having his life endangered by his co-star. Kevin: He sounds like the more sensible of the two. Michael: Sensible, but also, as Sam lovingly calls him, a bit of a "diva." There's a hilarious scene where they try to ride a tandem bicycle to Kilchurn Castle. Graham insists on being in the front, but he can't control the rickety old bike. To make it worse, Sam, in the back, decides to just... not pedal. He just lets Graham do all the work. Kevin: That is pure evil. That's not a partnership; that's a betrayal. Michael: Graham calls him a "tit" and says it's like being with his seven-year-old. The whole thing ends with Graham dismounting in a huff, complaining about the pain, only for their sound guy, Merlin, to hop on and ride the bike effortlessly. It’s this constant, playful antagonism that makes the book so readable. It even extends to their time on the Outlander set. Kevin: Oh, I bet. You can't work that closely for that long without some pranks. Michael: For sure. Graham's favorite scene was his character Dougal's death, where Jamie and Claire have to kill him. During a close-up, Sam decided to push the prop knife just a little too hard into Graham's chest to see his reaction. Graham, ever the actor, starts dramatically protesting and blaming Claire's stand-in, while Caitriona Balfe, who plays Claire, is trying desperately not to laugh. It's this long-standing chemistry that they bring to the road. Kevin: It sounds like the real story of Clanlands is a friendship that's been aged for years, a bit like the whisky they're constantly drinking. Michael: That's a perfect way to put it. And that chaotic, hands-on approach is exactly how they tackle Scotland's history. It’s not about quiet libraries; it's about feeling the past. Which brings us to the brutal, bloody side of their adventure.

Kevin: Right, because the subtitle isn't just "Whisky and Friendship," it's "Whisky, Warfare, and a Scottish Adventure." How do they make that history feel alive? Michael: They do it by making it tangible and personal. Graham states early on that "Scotland was born fighting," and they don't just tell you that, they show you. They meet up with a battle re-enactor named Charlie Allen, who actually played a Germanic warrior in the movie Gladiator. He hands them a real broadsword, a dirk, and a targe—the classic Highland shield with a spike on it. Kevin: So they're actually learning how to fight like their characters. Michael: Exactly. And Charlie explains that the targe isn't just for defense; it's a weapon. You could slash and impale an enemy with it. Suddenly, history isn't an abstract concept. It's the weight of a sword in your hand and the practical knowledge of how to use it. But where this gets really powerful is when they visit Glencoe. Kevin: The site of the infamous massacre. I know a little about that, but I have a feeling they go deeper. Michael: Much deeper. And they focus on the most chilling aspect of it. In 1692, government soldiers, mostly from the Campbell clan, were sent to get an oath of allegiance from the MacDonalds of Glencoe. But for twelve days, they lived with the MacDonalds. They were guests. They shared food, drink, and stories by the fire. They were welcomed under the sacred Highland code of hospitality. Kevin: Wait, they were guests in their homes? That's horrifying. I feel like I know where this is going. Michael: On the morning of February 13th, the commander, Robert Campbell of Glenlyon, received his orders: "put all to the sword under seventy." The soldiers rose at 5 a.m. and murdered their hosts in their beds. Men, women, children. It wasn't a battle; it was a state-sanctioned home invasion. The book makes you feel the cold, the betrayal, the absolute violation of it. Kevin: That's incredibly dark. This is all so violent. Is there a risk of just glorifying the brutality? How do they handle that? Michael: That's a great question, and something they grapple with. They don't shy away from the horror. They visit a "beheading pit" at Finlarig Castle and tell the story of Sir Ewan Cameron, who, in a fight, bit an English soldier's throat out and later declared it "the sweetest morsel I ever tasted." Kevin: Wow. Okay, that's... vivid. Michael: It is. But they balance this raw violence with the resilience of the culture. They explore the history of illicit whisky distilling, explaining how, after England imposed heavy taxes, smuggling and bootlegging became a patriotic act of defiance. The famous poet Robert Burns even wrote the line, "Freedom an' whisky gang thegither." It's the same fierce, independent spirit, just channeled differently. It’s not just about warfare; it's about a refusal to be broken. Kevin: So the fighting spirit isn't just about swords and battles, it's about cultural survival. That makes sense. But you can't talk about this book without talking about the giant kilted elephant in the room: Outlander. How much of this journey is shaped by the show that made them famous?

Michael: It’s impossible to separate the two, and the book is very self-aware about that. This whole journey is colored by what they call the "Outlander Effect." Diana Gabaldon, who wrote the Outlander series and the foreword to this book, talks about the amazing community the story has created. But that has a real-world impact. VisitScotland, the tourism board, attributed a 72% increase in tourism to locations featured in the show. Kevin: Seventy-two percent? That's staggering. That's not just an effect; that's an economic tidal wave. Michael: It is. And they experience it firsthand. They're constantly being recognized. But it gets complicated. There's a story where they're in a pub after a whisky tasting, and a known superfan named Glenn comes in with her daughter. Glenn approaches Sam, calls him by his character's name, Jamie, and implies her daughter is destined to be with him. Kevin: Oh, that's uncomfortable. The line between fiction and reality is getting very blurry there. Michael: Extremely. Sam, remembering past encounters with this fan, has to make a break for the camper van while the crew distracts her. It's a funny story, but it highlights a real tension in their journey. They are exploring their own heritage, but they're doing it through the lens of the fictional characters that have made that heritage globally famous. Kevin: So that brings up the big question: is this book a genuine search for heritage, or is it brilliant fan service? Or can it be both? Michael: I think the book argues, and I'd agree, that it's both, and that's what makes it so unique. The book has been incredibly well-received, especially by fans, who love the banter and behind-the-scenes feel. Some critics, on the other hand, have noted that the comedic formula can feel a bit repetitive. But the authors aren't hiding from this. They know their audience. Kevin: They're leaning into it. Michael: Exactly. They're using the platform that Outlander gave them to go deeper. They're taking the millions of people who fell in love with a fictionalized Scotland and saying, "Okay, you liked that? Now let us show you the real thing. It's funnier, bloodier, and more complicated than you can imagine." They're moving from fiction to fact, but using their fictional personas as the bridge. Kevin: So it's more than just a travel book. It's a road trip, a history lesson, and a fascinating look at modern fame, all rolled into one chaotic camper van.

Michael: Precisely. The real magic of Clanlands is that it uses the accessible, funny frame of a buddy comedy to smuggle in some really complex ideas about history, identity, and memory. They show us that the best way to understand the past isn't just to read about it in a book. Kevin: Right. It's to argue about it, to laugh about it, to feel the cold mist on a battlefield, and maybe even drink a toast to it on a misty mountainside. Michael: They make history a living thing. They stand on Culloden Moor, the site of the battle that effectively ended the Highland way of life, and they don't just recount the facts. They reflect on what it felt like to film that battle for the show, the exhaustion and the emotion, connecting their own experience as actors to the historical event. They make you feel the weight of it. Kevin: It's a powerful idea. It makes you wonder, what parts of our own history or heritage have we only ever read about, but never truly felt? Michael: That's a great question. And it’s something we’d love to hear from our listeners. What's a piece of your own history you'd want to explore on a road trip? Let us know on our social channels, we're always curious to hear your stories. Kevin: A fantastic thought to end on. This has been a wild ride. Michael: This is Aibrary, signing off.