A Highland Hideaway: Kintail Lodge

Hidden away at the foot of the imposing Glenshiel peaks, where the foaming waters of the River Shiel tumble into the deep basin of Loch Duich, lies one of Scotland's most remarkable hotels. The whitewashed, seventeenth-century Kintail Lodge, with its elegant gables and porthole windows, sits precariously perched on a rocky promontory, dwarfed by the unrelenting slopes of the Five Sisters mountains, five eternal giants which rise to three thousand, five hundred feet in stature, and the vast, shimmering loch beyond.

Sgùrr Mhic Bharraich towering over sun-drenched Loch Duich.

The elegant architecture of Kintail Lodge.

Kintail Lodge in its peaceful setting on Loch Duich, dwarfed by the bulk of Sgùrr an Airgid.

The lodge's peaceful gardens open onto a curving shingle beach, from where it is possible to delight in the timeless Scottish scene of fishing boats bobbing on the rippling waves, beneath high, tree-lined hills and ever-changing skies. As the sun beams down on the tranquil bay, and the quaint white cottages scattered along its far shore, the silence and stillness are momentarily punctuated by the deep-throated cry of a sea bird, or the bark of a farmer's sheepdog, bounding into the shallows. When the warm evening sun gives way to the darkness of night, and the western skies glow gold, a wondrous sight is set before us: the radiant moon shines down on the brooding mountain tops, and its milky white light is perfectly reflected in the mirror-glass water, now silent and motionless. This sublime natural theatre is perfectly illuminated by the lights of remote cottages strung along the shore, for the delight of the locals and visitors who frequent Kintail Lodge.

A Kintail Sunset

Luxury rooms at Kintail Lodge.

Smoked haddock chowder and Irn Bru with a view.

The lodge's twelve beautifully-appointed bedrooms, finished off with tartan throws, afford an incomparable vantage point for this natural spectacle; a stone's throw from the water's edge are the cosy lounge bar and conservatory restaurant, which provide a marvellous opportunity to sample Scotland's famed food and drink in quintessentially Highland surroundings. The chance to savour a hearty haddock chowder and the rich flavours of local venison, finished off with an indulgent chocolate tart, as the warm evening sun streams in through the picture windows, with the rugged peaks glowing and the loch glimmering gold, provides the ultimate dining experience. Following a late-night lochside walk to take in a tranquil sunset, and to spot the pine martens which scurry into and out of the deep forests all around, the lodge's luxurious beds and peaceful surroundings ensure a sound night's sleep.

Local Venison.

The incredible chocolate tart with chocolate soil and double chocolate ice cream.

The Five Sisters beneath a setting sun.

The following morning, the sublime sight of emerald green hills rising majestically out of the azure blue loch into cloudless skies will delight every guest, rising in eager anticipation of a day in the hills. After a filling Scottish breakfast with captivating lochside views, it is time to explore the wonders of Kintail, with its mighty mountains and awe-inspiring waterfalls, and maybe even a few deer! Whichever way the guests turn their gaze, adventure awaits, and they will be sure to have a tale to tell on their return, just in time for a hearty Highland feast.

Morning sun on Loch Duich.

Full Scottish breakfast with a view.

The walk to the Falls of Glomach, one of the many wilderness adventures that awaits at Kintail Lodge's doorstep.

The Hebrides' Best-Kept Secret: the Skye Mountain Lodge

The stunning Skye Mountain Lodge in its incomparably beautiful setting.

Hidden away from the madding crowd by two imposing mountain ranges, the Skye Mountain Lodge sits in splendid isolation on a promontory overlooking the tranquil waters of Loch Slapin, overshadowed by towering Cuillin peaks. This luxury wilderness retreat is the brainchild of the liveliest and loveliest Hebridean couple you could ever dream of meeting, Angus Neil and Mairi MacDonald, who left their native South Uist to find their slice of paradise on Skye. The traditionally-styled lodge was built just over a decade ago, and has been specially designed to allow guests to marvel at the greatest view on Skye from the comfort of their luxury bedroom, without even raising themselves from their cosy cocoon of blankets.

A Room with a View- the Cuillin suite at the Skye Mountain Lodge, overlooking Loch Slapin.

There is no spectacle more dramatic than the mist rising and falling from the high mountain peaks, revealing snow-dusted tops, as a gale rages through the glen, and larch trees sway like ships tossed on stormy seas, the waters of the loch bubbling and foaming, the boulders on the rich red moor polished smooth by the West Highland rain. It is this very image of untamed wilderness that can be enjoyed from the warmth and comfort of the lodge's opulent rooms.

The jaw-dropping summits of Bla Bheinn in their rich autumn glow.

The awesome majesty of the Cuillin hills has to be seen to be believed. Once the cloud has lifted from the mountains, and the storm has passed for the moment, the fortunate guest can do no better than walk the rocky lochside paths in the footsteps of the Highlanders of old, to the remains of long forgotten villages where Angus and Mairi's brave ancestors once farmed the land in an idyllic, but at the same time wild and windswept, setting. Above these lost settlements, an everlasting reminder of a brutal chapter in the island's turbulent history, the three dramatic summits of massive Bla Bheinn tower above the loch like the turrets of a fortress, their jagged pinnacles towering skyward like daggers of rock. In the distance, the loch flows softly into the sea, and the peaks of distant islands stand out bold against the setting sun. On this spectacular coastline, perfect harmony is achieved between sea and mountain, combining the two essential elements of Skye's beauty in one sublime natural masterpiece.

The dramatic coastline around Suisnish, with Bla Bheinn towering above.

Once the darkness descends over those dramatic peaks, Highland hospitality awaits at the mountain lodge. In the winter months, Mairi cooks the Scottish feast to end all feasts- a delightful two course meal of a hot and cold smoked salmon starter, followed by a hearty, warming portion of braised venison with neeps and tatties- all eaten in front of a blazing fire, listening to the sweet tones of Gaelic singers. For the most authentic Skye experience, Mairi will be sure to teach her guests a few Gaelic phrases over dinner, introducing them to the poetic language whose evocative words bring Hebridean landscapes to life, still very much a living language in this part of the island.

Soon the brilliant white light of the moon and the glittering stars are reflected in the still waters of Loch Slapin, and it is time to wish warm, kindly Mairi oidhche mhath, as they say in Gaelic. Retiring to that snug, cosy room and that huge, luxurious bed, you will await tomorrow's wilderness adventure with great excitement, after Mairi's exceptional Scottish breakfast, of course!

Oidhche mhath!

The Road to Skye: Invergarry to Glenelg under Cloudless Skies

'Some days it only rains twice here,' were the words of the Invergarry accountant cum taxi driver cum barman, a larger than life Highlander who, in true Lochaber style, knew the occupant of every house from there to Kyle of Lochalsh. And what they had for dinner. Alec MacDonald, a fount of local knowledge, had offered me a lift to the peaceful west coast village of Glenelg, to save a bus journey, and most importantly, to allow me to stop every fifty metres for photos. When you're on a road as spectacular as the road from Invergarry to Glenelg, this requirement is not as absurd as it first seems. I can promise that your camera's memory may be distinctly depleted after this sensational drive, especially if the rain holds off. Not guaranteed in the West Highlands, by any means, but more often than you think, you will get that perfect day, when the autumnal Highland landscapes stand out amid pastel blue skies, with the jagged summits of distant peaks visible at every corner, with the crystal clear lochs reflecting these rich gold hillsides like mirrors. The only trace of cloud in these vast skies is the occasional wisp, which forms a bold St Andrews cross in the deep blue heaven. It is on this day that it seems like the rain has retreated to a far distant planet. It was on this spectacular day that I took in the countless wonders of Scotland's most spectacular road.

The first of the road's wonders is a wide azure loch, hewn into the floor of a mountain-walled glen in the exact form of the map of Scotland. The loch's resemblance to the map of Scotland is surreal, as though it were a creation of Salvador Dali in a painting. Not only is the loch shaped like the map of Scotland, but the landscapes in this awe-inspiring panorama form a Scotland in miniature: a taste of all Scotland's landscapes in one scene. At the foot of the loch, gentle hills sweep down to the shores, depicting the soft pastoral scenes of the Borders. The narrowest point of the loch is spanned by a graceful iron bridge, a hint of the Central Belt's industrial past, the only sign of human civilisation in this unspoilt Highland scene. Beyond, the loch widens out into wilder country, and larch-clad precipices rise high above the water, a piece of Perthshire transmuted into the rugged West Highlands. Then the trees recede, the mountains steepen, and at the loch's head stand the formidable fortress-like summits of the Rough Bounds, a stark, bare, mountainous landscape, so typical of this far north-west corner of Scotland. It is into the heart of these rugged northern landscapes that the road now leads.

Colourful autumnal vista of the Map of Scotland Loch, Loch Garry

The road climbs higher into the boulder-strewn desolation, where only the pines withstand the ravages of the Highland weather. As the road twists and turns on its hairpin course, mountains fill every corner of the sky, and the view extends deep into the mysterious interior of remote Lochaber. Over the summit, the fjord-like Loch Loyne cuts a narrow defile into the mountains, watched over by the pyramidal sentinel of Spidean Mialach, one of Lochaber's most shapely Munros, while autumnal larches glow gold along its serene shores.

The larches glow gold along the serene shores of Loch Loyne, overlooked by majestic rugged mountains in wild Lochaber

Now descending through switchback after switchback, Lochaber gives way to Inverness, the spruce forests line the road once again, and grand russet mountains overlook a river bubbling over rocks. Presently a twisting road from Inverness and the Great Glen joins on the right. The bustling Highland capital is just forty-two miles away, but it feels like light-years. Now the road hugs the floor of a deep, glaciated valley, and on the left lies the vast Loch Cluanie, a huge body of shimmering blue water, enclosed by mountains that rise to a sheer three thousand five hundred feet, on all sides. The bulk of the great Aonach Meadhoin dominates the view ahead, while the sun beams down on the loch's waters, and the South Glen Shiel ridge opens out on the left, as the road crosses into Lochalsh. The land is ablaze with colour: the granite of the mountain tops have a silver sheen as they rise into sunny skies, the slopes are glistening with autumnal gold, the bracken is illuminated in a dazzling spectrum, and the loch's shores are clothed with deep emerald pines, reflected in the mirror-like water.

The shores of Loch Cluanie ablaze with colour; Saltire clouds in Highland skies.

Eventually the loch reaches its head in a deep, glacial valley, the wild Glen Shiel, hemmed in by precipitous mountains, which all have their own distinctive character. The castellated ridge of Druim Shionnach gives way to the sabre-toothed summit of Aonach Air Chrith, whose steep rugged summit looks onto sheer cliffs, which lead to the pointed summit of Maol Chean-dearg.

The majestic South Glen Shiel ridge, with Aonach Air Chrith (left), Maol Chean-dearg (centre), Sgurr an Doire Leathain (right)

The next peak along the ridge is the brooding pyramid of Sgurr an Doire Leathain, a truly great mountain, rising above the glen like a spear from its sheath. Now the River Shiel bubbles through the spruce glades, the peaceful home of roaming deer, and above them is the knife-edged ridge of Sgurr an Lochain, a fine peak, dwarfing the forests below.

The pyramidal peak of Sgurr an Doire Leathain

The road twists sharply, shoe-horned into the deep glen, walled by the fortress-like mountain ahead Sgurr a Bhealach Dheirg. Here begins the most idyllic section of road in all Scotland. The crystal clear waters of the mirror-like River Shiel tumble down over jagged rocks, the roadside is lined with rich green spruces, and above all this rise two of the Highlands' most awe-inspiring peaks. Sgurr na Sgine, the peak of the knife, lives up to its name as it juts out above the glen like the blade of a dagger, its granite point stabbing at the clear Highland skies. Its neighbour, Sgurr na Forcan, is a giant, sprawling mountain that thrusts its myriad knife-edged peaks into the blue heaven. This is somewhere you could stand forever, as long as the West Highland rain held off, in awe of the majestic landscape.

The idyllic view of Sgurr na Sgine (left), Sgurr na Forcan (right) and the spruce forests in stunning Glen Shiel

Only occasionally do gnarled pines and rowans clothe these bare mountain slopes: this is a wild glen, whose wilderness is tamed only by a lonely cottage on the glen floor, I always think of the inhabitant of this house, and the idyllic scenes he must wake up to every morning, jealous of him on a crisp autumn morning. It would be an awesome sight in winter too, when the snow-capped peaks shivered above the glen. I definitely have that house on my list, though I might need some practice digging cars out of snowdrifts before then! 

My dream house, Torrlaioghseach in Glen Shiel

The first village in forty miles is at Shiel Bridge, where the road to Glenelg leaves the main road to Kyle of Lochalsh. This is a village dwarfed by the awesome might of the Five Sisters, a mountain range of awe-inspiring height and steepness, the most impressive setting for any Highland settlement. The road twists and turns into a forgotten world, climbing in a series of hairpins over the Mam Ratagan pass, the pass that takes you back in time, to the idyllic Glenelg peninsula, a part of Scotland where time truly stands still. At the top of this pass is the most sensational view over the Five Sisters, seen at their full height, towering over Loch Duich. The houses of Shiel Bridge, and its neighbour Inverinate, are mere dots, set amidst the might of these giants.

The Five Sisters of Kintail dwarfing the villages at the head of Loch Duich

As the road begins to descend, it twists westwards into Glen More, and the Cuillins of Skye loom into view, across the blue waters of the Sound of Sleat. The road through the glen is the archetypal scene from old world Scotland. A rough, single-track road with passing places meanders through a deep glacial valley, dotted with the houses of crofts grazed by sheep and Highland cattle, with deer bounding away from the road and friendly Highland figures waving from the roadside, taking a moment's pause from their laborious peat-cutting. In the midst of the pines, where the road meets the sea, and the mountains of Skye rise above the bay, is the sleepy village of Glenelg. If there is anywhere that encapsulates Scottish life in a nutshell, it must surely be this charming West Highland village, where outside a line of whitewashed West Coast cottages, the local ladies walk their westies, the shop advertises Irn Bru and Tunnocks' caramel wafers, and the local inn has roast venison as its special of the day... all looked over by a shimmering blue sea and the rugged mountains of Skye. Can anyone think of a more Scottish scene?

Picturesque Glenelg at the end of the road.

Scotland's Forgotten Coast: Loch Hourn

In the depths of a dense forest, which clothes the autumnal landscape in myriad dazzling hues, from the pale yellow of birch, to the larch's golden glow, to the emerald tints of ancient pines, the road from Invergarry to Lochalsh and Skye twists and turns on its tenuous course, climbing above the great Highland lochs and into the mountains, to emerge by the dramatic west coast. In the shadow of the tall fir trees, a sign is reached, which marks the beginning of the most remarkable road in all Scotland. Its humble, laconic words- Kinloch Hourn, 22 miles- give no clue to the wonders that await any traveller who follows it. A forest track like no other, this is the road which takes you back in time, to a wild western corner of Lochaber that time, and throngs of tourists, truly forgot. The track wends its narrow way through the woods as if in a fairytale, leading to the Highlands of an age long past. As foresters' cottages sit dwarfed by brooding larch glades, looking over the still waters of Loch Garry, a journey back in time begins. As raindrops glisten amid the radiant autumnal glow of the forest, the only sound to be heard is the rushing of a distant waterfall, filled by countless showers of West Highland rain, and the deep-throbbing roar of a stag in the distant hills. The road is sprinkled with the needles of autumnal larch, which glitters in the rain, producing a landscape which Midas touched, turning even the road to gold.

Road of gold, Tomdoun

Amid a copse of fir trees stands the abandoned shell of a shooting lodge at Tomdoun, a truly haunted spot, adding to the sense of mystery. Here the road begins to climb above the tree-line into a wild Highland glen, climbing onto the hillside in a hairpin course, crossing precipitous waterfalls in full spate on precarious bridges, which are almost overwhelmed by the force of the torrent, the road soaked with spray. Now the deep green of the firs gives way to the warm gold glow of the open hillsides, and the landscape takes on a bleak, barren, but truly beautiful character. The rich satin carpet of peat bogs, the haunt of wild deer, is dotted with gnarled rowan trees and the occasional whitewashed croft cottage, as the shining river meanders into peaceful Loch Poll-airidh, and the brooding outlines of distant peaks loom out of the mist.

Hinds in Upper Glen Garry

Ever climbing into the mountains, the road reaches the sparse community of Coille Mhorgil, a scattering of whitewashed steadings and farmhouses which stand as if in a timewarp, retaining their ancient Gaelic name. Leaving the idyllic shepherds' community far behind, the road climbs steeply into the vee of the hills through a rugged, boulder-strewn valley, soaked by streams in spate, until, at its summit, the tranquil waters of Loch Cuaich are reached, valiantly held back by a stone dam. This tranquil loch is hemmed in by steep mountainsides on all sides, the unrelenting flanks of bold peak, swhich brood over its mirror-like surface like pyramids, grand sentinels which guard the still waters of this loch, keeping it in splendid isolation far from the prying eyes of tourists. One such peak is the massive, but shapely, Gairich, rising to three thousand and thirty feet.

Gairich dominating tranquil Loch Hourn

The shores of this peaceful loch are the domain of the proud stags, the monarchs of the glen, who wield their majestic antlers above the peaty knolls of their moorland kingdom, below the towering summit of Sgurr Mor, a deterrent to any traveller who should dare invade this pristine, timeless world. The size and power of these beasts is only truly appreciated from close up.

A stag  his antlers by Loch Cuaich

Stags camouflaged by the autumn colours, by the shores of Loch Cuaich, with Sgurr Mor in the distance.

The loch deep into the wilderness of West Lochaber, while the road turns north, into a glen watched over by the sheer, rugged flanks of Sgurr nan Eugallt, one of a chain of isolated mountains known as na Gairbh Criochan, Gaelic for the Rough Bounds. Here, Highland cattle roam nonchalantly along the little-used track, while high in the hills, waterfalls cascade down precipices hundreds of feet high towards the glen floor.

It's rush hour in Lochaber

Cascading waterfall below Buidhe Bheinn in the heart of the Rough Boun

The road becomes ever narrower as the mountains close in, until it vies with a cascading torrent for steepness, descending to sea level through an improbable course of hairpin turns, like a sinuous serpent coiled around a tree. As the west coast is reached, the salt waters of Loch Hourn come into view below the peak of Buidhe Bheinn, and the skies break, with pale shafts of sunlight 

illuminating the loch.

The first sight of the West Coast

It is by this tranquil inlet of Scotland's turbulent western seas that the road reaches its destination, the forgotten village of Kinloch Hourn, a cluster of cottages dotted around the loch's shore. 

From here, a rocky path climbs along the lochside, opening an undiscovered world, a side of Scotland which neither roads nor cars ever conquered, a world which the twenty-first century never reached. As the shapely, jagged peaks of Lochalsh provide a formidable backdrop, the idyllic house at Skiary sits perched on a headland beside a radiant larch glade, looking very much as it did the day its last inhabitants set out on the weary path to Inverness and the more prosperous east coast. The MacDonald family's creels still sit on the shore, disturbed only by the seabirds and the occasional otter. It is on a hilltop overlooking this timeless scene that our journey ends, in this sea of tranquility, with the precipitous peak of Sgurr na Sgine, and its granite-girt neighbours Sgurr na Forcan and Creag nan Damh, towering over the deep bay, and the lochsides clothed in the rich satin of autumn. It is, of course, only right to sit awhile, and admire the timelessness of this secret, forgotten world, a side of Lochaber which time, and the road builders, truly forgot. 

Looking over Loch Hourn from the headland above Skiary, with the abandoned house sheltered by the larch glade below. Sgurr na Forcan (left), Sgurr na Sgine (centre) and Creag nan Damh (right) look over this tranquil Highland scene.

No adventure in the wilds of West Lochaber could be complete without viewing the magnificent sunset over the western ranges. The warm, radiant glow of the sun over the precipitous mountains, the edifices of eternity, provides an awe-inspiring sight. It is as the sun sets over this timeless landscape that our journey concludes. 

The warm red glow of sunset over Sgurr na Ciche and Beinn Aodainn in the Rough Bounds of Knoydart.

The Silver Sands, Morar

Number two in our hall of fame of Scottish beaches is also situated on the rugged, wild and mountainous coast of Lochaber, but no boat is needed to reach this one! Instead, it is situated at the end of the spectacular train journey from Fort William, which takes in the gracefully curving Glenfinnan viaduct and threads its way through a landscape that fuses, in perfect harmony, the quintessentially Caledonian romance of Walter Scott with the mystery and drama of Tolkien. Above the train tower the ice-fingered summits of precipitous peaks, looming from mist, as the railway tracks twist and turn on

their switchback course over peat bogs clothed in the russet cloak of autumn and past great forests of proud, towering spruces. The line glides past the mirror-smooth waters of Loch Eilt, a vast body of water hemmed in by steep, rocky crags, and dotted with tiny islands which are jewelled with emerald pines. Finally, by the turquoise waters of a bay carved from rock, the line reaches the Sea of the Hebrides, the volcanic flat top of the Isle of Eigg brooding over the fertile crofting lands. From here, it is only a short distance to one truly exquisite stretch of sand. The beach at Morar provides a fitting conclusion to one truly spectacular journey.

To walk these gleaming white sands, which bring an almost surreal touch of the Caribbean to West Lochaber's stark, Scandinavian landscape, is to walk in the footsteps of film stars. Not that you would know that, for the sands today, on a spectacularly wild Friday afternoon in January at least, appear perfectly pristine, devoid of footprints, devoid of any signs of human disturbance. Back in the 1980s, this idyllic coastline was the setting for that timeless Scottish classic Local Hero, which saw Peter Capaldi, Fulton Mackay and Burt Lancaster among others revelling in the heavenly beauty of this corner of paradise, on the far western coast of Lochaber. After its moment of international fame, the beach returned to its previous serenity, a monument to the everlasting power of nature on these wild shores. 

Here at Morar, the sublime artistic power of nature has interwoven a rich tapestry of spectacular landscapes, with influence from all corners of the globe. The scene could be described as a form of natural surrealism- at first glance, such a fusion of scenic wonders appears unreal, but it was created entirely naturally, long before habitation came to this corner of Scotland. As the River Morar cascades into a shallow inlet of the sea in a foaming, Scandinavian waterfall, crossed by an elegant bridge and watched over by the dark, snow-dusted crags of Lochaber's remote interior, and hemmed in by the typically Caledonian pines, the beach which stretches out along the shores of the inlet gleams with brilliant white hues, as if it were surrounding a tropical island, interspersed with the jagged, jet black volcanic rocks more typical of Sicily than of Scotland.

The still, clear water never loses its Mediterranean turquoise tints, even when pelted with the sleet, hail, snow and icy rain of a West Lochaber winter. Long before Salvador Dali penned such combinations, nature herself had fused Mediterranean seascapes with the granite uplands of the far north, in a scene unparalleled anywhere else on earth, in a uniquely Scottish wonder.

 

The impression is of a lost desert island, transplanted into icy northern seas, then fused with the rugged beauty of the Highlands, where firs and pines took the place of palms. The beach is certainly deserted, an antidote to the crowds of Spain or Greece, with the Highland winter doing its best to ensure that the beach remains forever unsullied by a clutter of parasols, deckchairs and towels. In our Epicurean quest

for tranquility, we have much to thank the Scottish climate for. There is much treasure to be found too, for the exquisite shells of razor clams and mussels jewel the sands.

You cannot walk along this beach, without envying the occupant of the idyllic Highland cottage, hard by the gleaming sands, who looks out on this magical scene every day.

Six of the Best: Scotland's Best Beaches

With its hundreds of miles of deeply indented coastline and more than seven hundred islands, Scotland is blessed with some of the most magnificently situated beaches in Europe. The vast expanses of white sand that jewel Scotland's coast are renowned for their isolation and tranquility: often the cool clear waters lapping the soft sandy shore and the occasional cry of a seabird are the only sounds to be heard. It is usual to walk for miles and see only two, maybe three, other souls: they always have a story to tell, though, so save time for a long chat! Also save time to collect the many treasures that are to be found here: every day, exquisite and exotic shells wash up on these remote shores. A Scottish beach is a haven of pure peace at any time of year. It is a truism that the weather can never be guaranteed, but the ever-changing skies and weather conditions provide this coastline with a drama that is unmatched anywhere else. A trip to the wild coasts of northern Scotland and the Hebrides provides a chance to experience at close quarters the unmatched power of nature; a power wielded in wind, cloud and waves. It is a testament to the stark, wild beauty of these coasts, that even on a raw November day, with driving rain and howling gales, the seascapes never fail to inspire. The next few posts will show you some of the beaches I have fallen in love with during my travels.

1) Camas na Ceardaich, Inverie, Lochaber

The beach at Camas na Ceardaich, often simply titled The Long Beach, lines the rugged shores of a deep bay in Loch Nevis, providing a moon-like crescent of glittering white sand. The sea loch's name translates as the Loch of Heaven, which is highly fitting for the sublime tranquility of the scene. The fine, soft shell sand is jewelled with many dazzling shells, including rare razor clams, a rare treasure trove indeed. The setting reminds me of a desert island, Scottish style, with the same gleaming sand, the same deep blue sea, but with pines instead of palms. The beach is part of the mainland, lining an indentation of the southern Knoydart coast, but accessible only by boat from Mallaig or by a marathon hike across the hills from either Glendessary or Kinloch Hourn. Whichever way you choose to come (I will admit to taking the easy route and boarding a ferry at Mallaig!), this brilliant white stretch of sand provides a spectacular end to a spectacular journey. Though the sea views will justifiably capture your heart, do not forget to look inland: the larch glades, which glow gold in autumn, and the brooding bulk of Meall Buidhe, and its neighbour Luinne Bheinn, provide a formidable Highland backdrop; the perfect harmony of mare e monti, sea and mountains, as the Italians so aptly put it. Then when the clouds recede, a sight of almost surreal beauty will be set before your eyes: in the far distance, the spear-like summit of Sgurr na Ciche, a truly magnificent mountain, will thrust itself boldly into the moody autumnal skies. There is no natural drama greater than this. 

These images illustrate the stunning mountain backdrop to Camas na Ceardaich. The skyline is dominated by Luinne Bheinn (far left) and Meall Buidhe (centre), both in their russet autumn coats, while Sgurr na Ciche appears as a spear head, or ghostly arrow, above the pine glades.