Day 354: West Knoydart

Anxious voices from the kitchen. Six Scottish guys arrived last night, on an overnight stay to sample the Old Forge pub. The ferry is cancelled due to high winds and will not resume until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest: we are marooned!

The bunkhouse manager mentions a local skipper who might take them, although if it’s too dangerous for the ferry, he may take the same view. They wonder if he can be swayed to overcome any doubts with a large enough fee. They look out at the loch.

“Looks fine at the moment.”

Sure, the sheltered loch is calm, for now, but the boat has to briefly enter the open sea and turn sideways to the waves to enter Mallaig harbour. Better them than me.

“What do sailors who have lived all their lives here know, eh?”

They laugh.

Well, I can’t be put off by high winds. This is supposed to be a coastal walk, so I’m hoping to complete a circuit round the headland. A tarmac road winds up into the hills, sheltered until I turn a corner into the full force of the wind. Mallaig lies across the sea under angry clouds, with not a brave boat to be seen.

An icy squall passes through. A sea eagle circles the towering crags of Roinn na Beinne.

A rusting steamer leans against a private stone jetty at Airor, bringing back memories of the fantastical Duke of Lancaster. Scattered cottages, some in disrepair and seemingly abandoned, give way to a lonely farm at the end of the road. Highland cattle bar the way, refusing to move, so close I could touch their horns as I edge past. I don’t.

This is the first time I’ve reached Loch Hourn, bounding the north of the peninsula, and I’m happy to step onto a sandy beach.

As expected, the river is too full to ford at Inverguseran and pick up the track on the far side, leaving a pathless trek for a few miles along this bank.

Ascending a steep hill, a deer gate appears, leading into the regenerating young forest. River rapids rush through a horseshoe canyon far below.

Feint 4×4 tracks help to pick a good line. A second deer gate appears. The retaining knot is beyond my limited skills, so I climb over.

The vehicle tracks descend sharply, where a third gate opens onto the riverbank.

It’s not long before I reach the bridge where I rested on my last trip.

The track crosses to my side for the familiar easy walk into Inverie.

The Old Forge is quiet on a Sunday evening with three regulars I recognise. I chat to Donny again, learning more about the tree-planting conservation work. I want to come back in 20 years and experience the change.

I take my favourite seat by the panoramic window and enjoy what must be one of the finest views from a pub anywhere. The sunset, stormy sky and wind-whipped waves are ethereal. I rush outside and stand on the shore, alone, braced against the wind and rain — elemental, thrilling, sublime. I can barely hold the phone steady, swaying and smiling as the locals, amused, watch me from the warmth of the pub — just another crazy old hiker.

After a couple of beers, I reluctantly make the cold trek in the dark back to the bunkhouse. The kitchen is empty, so the guys must have secured safe passage.

A sole card sits on the wooden table: Happy anniversary to us!

A couple are sitting together on the lounge floor in front of the fire, watching a movie. Oh oh. I need to go in to use the WiFi — gooseberry time.

Nick and Emma from Lincolnshire are a lovely couple, chatting at 100 miles an hour. They have hiked in via the bothies, brave souls. Tales are swapped before I turn in for a warm shower and a comfortable bed. An unforgettable day, enhanced by the wild weather. What will tomorrow bring?

Date of walk: Sunday 15 March 2026.

Walk distance: 15 miles.

Total distance: 5,655 miles.