Day 352: Sgùrr Coire Choinnichean

I read somewhere that true adventure requires uncertainty. Well, my last trip to Knoydart delivered, and this one looks no different.

Having booked two nights in a private bothy on the Isle of Eigg and several nights at the Knoydart Foundation Bunkhouse, I’m tent-free, travelling light, and looking forward to exploring the remote coastline and mountains. The weather is indifferent to my hopes, threatening heavy rain, snow, and 60 mph gusts, the latter likely to cause ferry cancellations. Who knows what will happen?

I’m staying in Fort William for two nights to break the journey north, hoping to pick up a Munro. The Black Isle Bar, my regular, offers pizza, a wide selection of ales, and a friendly hiker community sitting round long communal tables. James, a climber from the Lake District, slides over to join me, clutching three half-pint glasses containing different beers. I’m particularly taken with his story of working on the Falkland Islands and helping a local conservationist catch a penguin — visions of him running round with a huge butterfly net.

Next day

The rain hammers against the window. Gale-force gusts are predicted. I guess I’m not climbing a Munro.

The excellent Highland Cinema is screening The Bride, starring Jessie Buckley, my favourite actress since I first watched her in the surreal I’m Thinking of Ending Things. Yes, I cried at Hamnet. There are only two other people in the small cinema, a large English woman accompanying an older, smaller Scottish woman.

“She’s not my mother. I’ve just adopted her.”

The English woman is overwhelming, talking nonstop. Despite her running commentary during the movie, I enjoy it, gleefully OTT, dark and funny. How could you not like a movie whose closing credit sequence is accompanied by the “Monster Mash”?

The lights come on, and the woman explains Mary Shelley’s background, having “a degree in English Literature”. I know most of it already. We discuss the movie, and she seems surprised at my enthusiasm.

“You enjoyed it? I don’t know if you are married, but if not, you need to find yourself an ardent feminist.”

Time for a swift exit.

Next day

Great news. The small ferry from Mallaig is sailing.

The crossing is not too choppy, but cold enough to stay in the cabin until Inverie.

A long line of students waits on the jetty, which explains why the bunkhouse was fully booked until today.

Check-in is not til 3 pm, so I head up Sgùrr Coire Choinnichean (“peak of the mossy corrie”), a Corbett that towers over the village. Dangerous animals lurk in the woods.

The steep path veers to the left, following the rim of the huge Slochd a’ Mhogda ravine. Don’t ask me to pronounce that. I’ve spent long enough practising how to say the name of the mountain to save the usual embarrassment when a local inevitably asks me where I’ve been.

The land flattens to a grassy plateau before the final climb to the summit.

The higher I go, the stronger the wind gusts, making me pause and survey the horizon.

Black clouds roll in my direction, trailing curtains of snow. I’ve seen these before. It’s time to return to the plateau.

It’s the right call as the squall hits. I move down the hill as quickly and safely as possible. Of course, 10 minutes later, the sky clears, but I don’t mind, less concerned about ticking boxes and happy to have made it to Knoydart and out into the mountains.

The Old Forge is very lively by 5 pm. The locals gather at the end of the week. It may be rather different to working in London, but some traditions are universal.

The updated forecast remains grim, with rain and snow tomorrow and strong winds on Sunday. I’ll switch plans, taking to the mountains tomorrow and leaving the lower-level coast walk for Sunday. The ferry back to Mallaig is cancelled for Sunday and may not run on Monday, which would scupper my plans to reach Eigg. Oh well, there are worse places to be trapped. I have the bunkhouse to myself, the log fire going, and a huge stack of DVDs and VHS tapes on the shelves. Watchmen again, then.

Date of walk: Friday 13 March 2026.

Walk distance: 5 miles.

Total distance: 5,629 miles.