From the sublime to the ridiculous

Mixed fortunes in Assynt

Hello Everyone,

Last week saw me heading back up to Assynt for a day out with my camera and, I must confess, hopes of another cheeky wee pie from the Lochinver Pie Shop. If you missed the last mention of the pie shop you can find it here

Snowy Scotland

Sadly, the shop was shut due to refurbishment so a pie will have to wait until the next excursion to the area.

We headed up to Achmelvich which is known for its beautiful little beaches. I worked out that the last time I was there must have been forty odd years ago on an adventure weekend with the school (it was in the days when teachers did a lot of extra-curricular activities). I confess that I have no memories of that weekend apart from taking part in kayaking in the bay opposite the Youth Hostel. To continue to kayak, we were informed that we had to capsize and swim back to shore dragging the kayak with us. It was October. We were not wearing wetsuits, just normal clothes. I had got halfway back to shore when through chattering teeth I told the supervising teacher that I couldn’t feel my legs. The sympathetic response was to keep swimming. I did make it back to shore (clearly) but spent a long time shivering on my bunk even though I had put on every piece of dry clothing I had.

The bay was looking uninteresting as the tide was at full height so we went to find the Hermit’s Castle that’s built on one of the headlands. Ignoring the sign advising of three aggressive tups with a tendency to attack (we noted not to turn our backs on them if they approached) we climbed over the fence and struck off in what we hoped was the right direction. The ‘castle’ isn’t that easy to spot since it blends in with the landscape as

“the form and material…harmonise with both stoney Assynt and the Minch spreading below” (Beaton 1995)

but we found it pretty quickly. It’s a strange little building. The Buildings at Risk Register describes it as an

[I]n-situ poured concrete folly constructed in 1950 by David Scott, and English architect who left the area shortly after completion. Free form and expressionistic, the glass windows and door have been lost.

The interior is irregularly-shaped, never wider or taller than 2m, with a bed platform, hearth and storage shelves. When we entered (it’s a bit of a squeeze) it was evident that it had been used as a toilet - why do people do that?

I didn’t take any photos apart from these record shots as the conditions were pretty uninteresting. I would prefer a dramatic sky and crashing waves as a backdrop so will return another day.

We scouted a few other locations along the coast and ended up at Stoer Head, which neither of us had previously visited. Arriving in a heavy squally shower, it seemed a good time to have lunch. I parked the car so we could look out to sea but needn’t have bothered as the combination of heavy rain and steamed up windows from our flasks of soup obliterated the view. When the soup had been consumed and the rain had eased off, we squelched our way up the hill so that we could look across to the lighthouse.

It was built in 1870 by David and Thomas Stevenson after being identified as one of 45 sites around the coast of Scotland that would benefit from a lighthouse. Wreck Returns started to be kept from 1853 and figures for 1859-66 showed that, on average, 24 vessels were stranded on rocks and sand around Scotland’s coast each year. Standing at 14m high, Stoer Head is not a tall lighthouse, but its elevation above sea level is 54m. A Principal Lightkeeper and an Assistant and their families lived at Stoer Head until the light became automated in 1978. The building is now self-catering accommodation.

It wasn’t long before more heavy squalls moved in and this time it seemed as if they were set to stay. By the time we got back to the car we were absolutely drenched. I didn’t have much time between showers to get some pictures, but got enough to know that I would like to go back.

Maybe when I go back, I’ll walk along the headland to the Old Man of Stoer, even though I’ve been warned the walking isn’t very easy.

In some ways, the day wasn’t a great success, at least not photographically, but on the other hand we managed to scout quite a few locations so know where we want to return to when conditions are more favourable. It was better than sitting at home!

Bibliography

Buildings at Risk Register for Scotland

Sutherland an illustrated architectural history (1995) E Beaton p 102 (referenced by Buildings at Risk)

Northern Lighthouse Board