Day 342: Beasdale to Arisaig

This is not the season to spend hours waiting on a cold, dark station platform for a train back to Mallaig. The Crofter’s Rest in Arisaig, reopening yesterday after its winter break, should provide a warmer option. The plan is to catch a train to Beasdale and hike north to Arisaig via the Rhu peninsula, working round the pathless south to join up with the road on the north. I’m not sure how realistic this is, given the limited time before the evening train, but I can cut across the hills if necessary.

After a short stretch of road, I creep through woodland surrounding Arisaig House, ignoring the Guests Only sign. The building was requisitioned during World War II as the base for the Special Operations Executive, the elite corps of undercover agents operating in occupied Europe, the precursor to the SAS.

I’d hoped my path would pass discreetly round the house, but it leads me straight into the main courtyard, bustling with builders. There’s no turning back now. Act confident and hope the estate management team are not present. I stride up, wish everyone a hearty good morning, and quickly escape through an arch and down to the boathouse, joining a road leading to a small group of houses.

Walking past the last house, a woman peers out the window. We look at each other. She does not move. I don’t imagine she sees many hikers here.

The shore is a typical mix of rocks, sodden grass and narrow water channels, requiring careful navigation. I get that familiar buzz of excitement from exploring a remote, wild, beautiful landscape, not knowing what lies beyond the next corner or hill.

A rocky outcrop blocks the shore, running up the hillside. I check the map. Despite picking my way for an hour, I’ve barely made any impression on the long, ragged perimeter. This is impossible without a long summer’s day or wild camping. One final view of snow-capped Rois-Bheinn to the south, before I decide to cut across the interior and link up with an inland track.

A burn runs north through a boggy glen, accessible via a handily positioned gate in a deer fence. There’s no path on the valley floor, but a faint trail leads up the hillside through the trees, offering firmer ground. Unfortunately, it’s a false trail, forcing me to descend once more, energy and time wasted. I did enjoy the view.

Sliding down a steep bank, the forest track lies only a few feet away, following a lively stream. The problem is a deer fence separating us. I scale the fence only to discover a gate a little further downstream.

Reaching the road on the north of the peninsula, there’s not enough time to follow it to the end and back, so I make my way out to the end of the rocks, lean against my pack and enjoy the stunning view with a flask of coffee to ward off the cold. It’s such a tranquil spot. The light gradually softens to gold. The further north I come, the more it becomes about the adventure and less about the miles.

My flask is empty, and the cold finally bites, so I search out The Crofter’s Rest, passing a war memorial for the Czech and Slovak soldiers who trained at Arisaig House. Violette Szabo parachuted into occupied France and worked with the French resistance before her capture and execution. She was awarded the George Cross for bravery, poignantly presented to her young daughter.

The small bar appears empty and closed, but the barman beckons me in. I order a bottle of beer while he gets the stove going. Having inherited a small mussel farm, he knows every detail of the local coastline. I show him my planned loop over the North Morar hills.

“You like to make things difficult for yourself!”

Not a ringing endorsement. A couple of locals arrive, full of chat, and offer a dram, but I must catch the train.

A fine day’s walking, enhanced by the glorious winter weather. Long may it last.

Date of walk: Friday 16 January 2026.

Walk distance: 8 miles.

Total distance: 5,522 miles.