Thursday, 5 September 2019


I am some three and eighty feet up above the village of Scourie on n a hill called Cnoc a’ Bhuthain. I can see everything from here. The Hotel owned by my dear friends Richard, Fiona and Charlotte Campbell and has been home for five fab days. 

This is almost as far north west in Scotland as you can get.

The white sands of Scourie Beach shine in the occasional sun and a little further the cemetery with its several Commonwealth War Grave Commission headstones. One small place on a lonely headland, one of the 23,000 separate burial sites cared for by the Commission.

Looking down on Scourie Village 
The rocky bay is a geologist’s playground. Some of these stones have been dated been dated at 2500 million years. This was where Western Europe was born. Pink and grey rock sandwiched together form part of the Scourie Dykes. The full story of this country formed over 2 billions years ago is told here.

Behind some fir trees to my right is Scourie Pier, refurbished in 2012. To a railing at the end Richard ties his lobster pots where crabs doze waiting for the dinning room table in a week or so.

Fisherman's Hut Scourie Pier
It is so peaceful here, in the population is tiny; per square mile there may be more people in the Sahara Desert. Very rarely do we hear aeroplanes and helicopters. This is a remarkable counter point to the bombardment and bustle of Buckinghamshire, which is why my time up here, each year, is so very precious.

To the hills from Scourie Hotel 

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Thank you very much for your comments - Tim