I’ve visited Glenuig a number of times over the years – and the rich, mysterious Scottish coastline that it lies upon – and in many ways, I could be anywhere in rural Britain. Greenery and rain clouds, Post Offices and pubs, a warm but weary populace used to the ebbing and flow of the seasonal tourist trade. But somehow, here, as I do in many parts of the old Celtic corners of these islands, I sense something broader, more timeless, and curiously stranger… and it’s not just the place names.
Even before arrival, halfway through journeying west from the local hub of Fort William, the A830 passes through the tales of Glenfinnan. Perched at the northern end of the slender Loch Shiel, Glenfinnan these days is famous thanks to two young men: first, the real-life Bonnie Prince Charlie, who kick-started his Jacobite Uprising here in 1745 (but ultimately failed in his quest to seize the British throne); and second, the nearly-real-life figure of one H. Potter, who often crosses the towering Glenfinnan viaduct on his way to Hogwarts. Film fans gather accordingly, and Dumbledore’s final resting place can also be found nearby, on the windswept Eilean na Moine on Loch Eilt.
Closer to Glenuig, the organic wonders continue. In the village itself, there is often a chance to hear local, traditional folk music at the Community Hall, or it’s possible to paddle out to Samalaman Island and listen to the waves and gulls slap around you instead. Alternately, where the lane finishes at the western end of the village, a muddy footpath leads over the hills and through the woods to the old crofter’s settlement of Smirisary. Further again, beyond the dwellings that are still cared for, a luscious and mossy descent brings you down to the oasis of White Sands – a small, secluded cove, so clear and quiet that it feels almost sacred.
To the south, en route to the Ardnamurchan Peninsula, the waters and pathways around Loch Moidart and Eilean Shona provide at least a day’s worth of exploring potential. At the mouth of the River Shiel, the rugged and dilapidated Castle Tioram still stands beyond the sandbanks, whilst in the surrounding estuary we canoed alongside wild otters – well, at least one wild otter – that floated alongside us briefly, bobbing amongst the seaweed.
Rejoining the A830 north of Glenuig towards the fishing harbour, ferry port and excellent provider of pints that is Mallaig, a non-descript layby conceals the entrance to a wonderful treasure hunt. Taking approximately two hours, a (very) waterlogged footpath weaves via woodlands and ridges – with stunning views in clear weather of the Isles of Eigg and Muck – towards a remote beach. Here, maintained by the Mountain Bothy Association, Peanmeanach Bothy sits proudly on the shoreline, free and available for use by anyone who comes searching. Advised essentials: warm clothes, fire-lighters, scran, whisky.
For those with some extra time on their hands, Mallaig is the portal to the Inner Hebrides. We spent two days on the Isle Of Skye, but you could easily wander its highways for weeks. From bold, alien landscapes to Scandi-sounding settlements, ancient clifftop brochs to distant, circling sea-eagles, this land is West again, and then some. Truthfully, I’d need another visit and another whole article to do the Isle real justice, so once again, I’m counting this as the first glance…
Oh, and Glenuig? Well, I could tell you how it’s pronounced, but I think that’d spoil the magic.
Info: www.visitscotland.com