Scotland Diary: Gairloch | Day One
On our way to Gairloch, we thought we would check in with our new Airbnb hosts to make sure that they knew we were in the area. The message wasn’t seen straight away so we thought we would just drive straight to the house and arrive at the agreed time. We couldn’t find the house at first, ending up in some strange treehouse area, with laundry sheets hanging outside and an old, beaten-up kayak. The perfect backdrop for a horror film. Rachel had booked to stay in a forest-green Shepherd’s Hut, and so when we couldn’t see it, we finally gave in and called the hosts.
It turns out, not only were we at the wrong address but the hosts had gotten our dates mixed up and weren’t expecting us at all. They had a problem with the hot water and electricity leading into the Shepherd’s Hut, so had cancelled their previous guests but had forgotten to take the listing down completely. So when Rachel saw it, she’d managed to book in right away but the hosts had obviously overlooked the dates.
Seeing as we had already paid and were in the area, the hosts agreed to let us stay but warned us of the water situation. We’d been camping in such simple conditions for a while now so not being able to take a hot shower or switch lights on didn’t seem like such a big priority to us.
After securing the correct address we hot-footed it out of the treehouse area, and in our haste, Rachel drove straight through the hanging linen.
As we approached the correct house, we could see the pier with its many boats, surrounding woodland and a country pub directly opposite. Then a bit further down in the garden sat the Shepherd’s Hut. Our home for the next few nights.
The Shepherd’s Hut
One host came out to greet us (for privacy reasons, I’ll keep their real name private) and introduced herself as Z. Her partner R was working in the adjacent Art Gallery. Z was full of apologies as the Shepherd’s Hut wasn’t quite ready for us to move into and supplied us with cups of tea whilst we waited in the garden and played with their energetic dog.
We soon got to know all about Z and R, they’d previously been living on an island called Scoraig.
Scoraig is quite well-known for its remote off-grid community way of life. It’s only accessible by boat, or a five-mile walk, depending on what you’re up for, and the residents live in relative isolation working the land. The residents of Scoraig power their own homes with wind energy, grow their own food and work on their own crofts. Whatever has been built on Scoraig has been built solely by the residents. There’s no modern tech and every day is most likely a battle with the elements, but the people of this island have become completely at one with nature.
The community is quite ageing but there are children, which of course, requires a school. Z was a teacher at the school, roughly made up of five children. The idea of Scoraig is quite idyllic and I suppose I would be wrong to say it didn’t inspire me somewhat. There was once a time when this way of living would be deemed crazy and out of the norm; to pack up, leave your old life behind and live life for yourself, sustain yourself for yourself. But it’s quite trendy now, being eco-conscious is considered ‘fashionable’. Until people realise just how difficult this way of life actually is and go running back to their Netflix accounts and unlimited internet access.
The downside for me would be community life. I might well be on this trip with my friend, but I’m a loner at heart and I think living side by side with people I’d have to see every day would just about do me in. This is excellent foreshadowing by the way, as I did exactly that in the Isles of Scilly.
Once the Shepherd’s Hut was ready, we went off to have a look and move some of our bits in. You’ll see in the pictures, there was one double bed (which Rachel was scared she wouldn’t fit on), a shower (the one that didn’t work), a kitchenette, a dining area, a fireplace, a bookshelf and an outside toilet. It was perfect. Stunning, even.
Z explained that the electricity was run by a generator that she would switch on every now and again. So we thought of a system where we could have a little electricity in the morning to make breakfast, then again at night for dinner. And every time we heard that low thrum, we stopped whatever we were doing, immediately charged our devices, turned the kettle on and started preparing meals. It certainly made for a decent morning alarm clock, where we’d be lying in bed patiently waiting for the familiar thrum, then at 8 am, like clockwork, it would start up meaning the day had begun.
Rachel outside the Shepherd’s Hut in Gairloch
We had a fair few more days to kill before we were off to Ullapool to catch the ferry to the Isle of Lewis. Lewis is where we would be working for the foreseeable, earning a bit of money for diesel and food to continue our Scotland journey. The communication between the hosts and ourselves had been quite lax for a few weeks, to the point where we thought perhaps it wasn’t possible. But just as we were about to give up on that venture, we got a message through the Work Away site that they’d still like to host us from the 15th of August. Once we’d read that message I got straight onto the Calmac Ferry website and booked our ferry slot before it became full. It felt good to have a direction and not to be aimlessly wandering about and wasting money. Now we would be earning it with a real base we could call home for a bit.
Things were looking up for us!
Our first evening in the Shepherd’s Hut was spent watching downloaded episodes of Love Island, eating a home-cooked dinner and dancing to music around the kitchenette. Tomorrow, we were to explore the nearby forestry and think of our next camping location.
Read the next entry ‘Scotland Diary: Gairloch | Day Two’
Read the previous entry ‘Scotland Diary: Plockton’
