The most Westerly village in mainland Britain

As I write this entry, I am sitting in the cab of Cally with Lesley on the edge of a cliff overlooking a small bay with fine sand, rocks and waves breaking on the beach several metres below us at the campsite in Durness which the local tourist office claims is the most westerly village in mainland Britain.

The day began with clear blue skies and warm sunshine boasting mid twenty degrees by late morning. We had a leisurely breakfast outside, got the van ready to depart and were on the road by late morning skirting the Western reaches of Easter Ross travelling through glens, past lochs, pasture land and low mountains that typify the North Western Highlands and soon found ourselves at Ullapool where we stopped for refreshment overlooking the harbour and loch along which we had just driven.

As we sat enjoying our snack, clouds began to form over the surrounding mountains and towards the end of our brief exploration of the town there was moisture in the air so we continued in a northerly direction into Sutherland. The land changed quite dramatically and reminded us of parts of Western Ireland, especially Connemara. We began to cross moors with small burns cutting their way through towards inland lochs and revealing the peat that in places had been cut, presumably to provide fuel.

We stopped briefly at Elphin to visit the tiniest of craft markets then continued on our way occasionally catching glimpses of the sea as we wound our way across Western Sutherland. A novel experience during the latter part of our journey was that despite the A838 being a major road, for several miles between Rhiconich and Durness, it was a single lane carriageway with passing places crossing what appears to be a peat bog.

At Durness we found the campsite someone in Dingwall had mentioned to us as we left and was also identified by the satnav. It was situated on a cliff top with great views out to sea and as the site office was closed we followed the instructions on the door indicating one should find a pitch and then call I to the office to register and pay when they opened at 1730. Whilst waiting we sat in the cab, it was rather damp and windy outside at this point, but enjoyed the view with a cup of hot chocolate and a coconut pyramid.

At the appointed time we paid our site fee and as the weather had improved we went for a walk along the headland, down onto the beach and explored the tiny village claiming to be the most westerly in Britain.

Lesley cooked a tasty and warming meal of liver and bacon with a very tasty gravy followed by raspberries, flaked chocolate and creme fraiché, all very delicious. Then we spent time sitting in the cab, listening to music and watching the seascape before us. An idealic existence!

 

 

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