It’s never pleasant to evict bare feet from a warm sleeping bag into cold, wet boots for a loo run, but the prospect of a dry morning compensates. As expected, I’m the last one to break camp.
Climbing up to rejoin the trail, a farewell look back.
Several isolated cottages hug the far shore, accessible only by boat. Colourful kayaks rest on the grass outside one of the buildings, with a gap for one being paddled hard across the loch, sideways against the wind.
If you are forced to walk the same trail in both directions over three days, make sure it’s a rewarding one. This is hard to beat.
I reach Barrisdale Bay just as rain begins to fall. A couple in the distance, sitting by the shore, are putting on identical red waterproofs. I recognise them by their two springer spaniels, having met briefly yesterday in Kinloch Hourn.
After a strenuous climb, falling ever further behind the red pace setters, a familiar cairn marks the top of the pass. The hard work is done, and I can enjoy the long descent into Inverie.
A woman climbs toward me, hefting a bike on her shoulder. She smiles despite the rain. How will she fare on the brutal path to Kinloch Hourn? There are some tough people out here.
The Brocket stone cross signals the home straight.
I’ve made good time. The Old Forge has never been so welcome, devouring a roast dinner, washed down with a couple of pints.
Well, here I am, back where I started, my original plan in ruins. What now? The bunkhouse was fully booked when I planned this trip, but to my delight, a cancellation has freed up a bed for the rest of the week, saving me from pitching by the shore in the rain. My luck is changing! The weather is set to improve by the middle of the week, so I’ll chill out here, explore more of Knoydart and try some Munros. After all, this is my favourite place, so I’m not too unhappy with the outcome.
Dumping my gear in the bunkhouse dorm, the guy opposite is wearing a Lankum t-shirt, both unexpected and an opening to chat.
Laura and Ben, the couple with the dogs, are in the lounge. I’m surprised to discover they are in their 50s as they look much younger. Laura tells me that I just missed her wild swimming naked at Barrisdale Bay. She looks like Lisa Hogan from Clarkson’s Farm, so there’s no safe answer to that one.
Next day
One of the joys of sleeping on the bottom bunk is springer spaniels padding across the floor in the middle of the night and pushing their wet noses in your face. It’s a good job I love dogs.
The weather is still unsettled, so I’ll make this a recovery day, beginning with calorie restocking. The cafe is open after the winter closure, perfect for a rather unconventional late morning breakfast of a bacon and fried egg butty, followed by a scone with butter and jam, the cream sadly sold out already.
For a little fun, and in recognition that this is supposed to be a coast walk, I’ll head east from the village for the first time and see how far I can get along the shore at low tide.
A gravel road runs through a new development of what I assume are holiday cottages before ending at a quarry on the shore, across the bay from Inverie.
After working round a decrepit fence, a faint path appears, but I stop at a second fence as the rain begins to fall. The coastline is not particularly interesting, there’s no sign of any wildlife through my binoculars, and it’s rough going, so I turn round and head back into the village.
Back in the Old Forge, naturally, I approach the bar, where the gregarious young woman who is the front of house, recognises me.
“Are you moving up here to join the community?”
Hah! It feels like it.
Explaining my travails with the river in flood, a bearded man at the nearby table asks for more information. It turns out he is the aforementioned “tall guy with a huge pack”, originally part of the Cape Wrath Trail group I met at Runival. His pack weight is an incredible 35 Kg! I was only at 17 Kg for the Arctic Circle Trail with seven days of food, and that felt heavy. He’s camped in the nearby woods, trying to use up as many cans as possible before rejoining the trail. Who packs cans for a long-distance hike? Good luck with that.
The forecast is for two days of glorious sunshine. I’m refreshed and ready for the Munros!
Date of walk: Sunday 19 April 2026.
Total distance: 5,728 miles.
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Cans?????
That woman with the bike makes John look really soft! I thought he took his bike into some mad places.