From Elphin to Lochinver.

So here we were, ensconced in the heart of Assynt, the region of Scotland that first kindled our devotion to the highlands, and the place that made us buy a caravan in the first place. 

We first came to Assynt nearly twenty years ago. Mrs Snail's parents invited us to join them on a self catering holiday in the fishing town of Lochinver, a few miles north of our current pitch at Elphin. We were students at the time and the chance of a free holiday was impossible to refuse. Once there, I don't believe we ever truly left.

We returned to the self catering chalets at Lochinver many times in the following years, sometimes alone, sometimes with Mrs Snail's Mum and Dad. But the price inevitably rose year on year until we were paying in excess of six hundred quid a week to stay in a little chalet with a view of the harbour. And a jacuzzi. If I'm honest, however much I love life on the road with the caravan,  do miss that Jacuzzi. Mind you, the way caravan equipment is going at the moment, I'm guessing it's only a matter of time...

But the fact was that at those prices a trip to this wonderful part of the world was too expensive to be anything other than a treat we allowed ourselves only occasionally. What can I say? We're greedy. We were determined to find a way to come here more often, and Mrs Snail suggested that a caravan was the obvious solution. I confess I took some convincing, but it all turned out extraordinarily well in the end. Since picking up the Road Snail we've been to all sorts of places we wouldn't otherwise have got to, but most of all, we've been to Assynt a lot more frequently than would otherwise have been possible.

Elphin sits a few miles inland, opposite the twin hills of Cul Mor and Cul Baeg. (Respectively "Big Back" and "Little Back" in Gaelic.) Many years ago, as a much younger and fitter man I accompanied my father in law on an ascent of both of these hills in one day. He was older then than I am now, and I have to say that now I'd probably just do the one... It's a good walk though, and not particularly difficult - and the view from the top is fantastic, assuming the clouds are higher than the peak and you actually get one. This, I'm afraid, can not be guaranteed.

Head north from here and in a couple of miles you arrive at the Ledmore Junction - something of an important landmark hereabouts, although if you didn't know that you'd be hard pressed to tell. The "T" junction marks the point where the mostly North/South A835 ends and you join the mostly East/West A837. That's all there is really, a T junction and a sign - not so much as a house. I'm not even sure that Ledmore actually qualifies as a place at all...

Still, if you're minded to turn right here and head to the west you'll follow a winding single track road that will eventually take you to the central town of Lairg. We, however were turning left and taking the rather more substantial road West towards the coast and the little fishing community of Lochinver. 

As you approach the Ledmore junction you are afforded impressive views of the long craggy ridge of Suilven - my very favourite hill - and the taller and rather pleasingly mountain shaped Canisp, both rising up on your left. Right in front of you, however looms the impressive bulk of Ben More Assynt (not to be confused with Ben Mor Coigach, the other "big hill" in these parts) which is the region's only Monroe, or Scottish Mountain over three thousand feet. 

The A837 sweeps you onwards, eventually bringing you to the shores of Loch Assynt, and the little village of Inchnadamph. As we passed through we noticed a couple of RAF Regiment soldiers ambling their way along the road, and wondered what they were doing there - the RAF is often to be seen in the skies over Assynt, but you seldom see them on the ground. We assumed that they must be involved in some sort of training exercise and pressed on. Bear them in mind though - we'll be coming back to them in a future post...

Ichnadamph is also the site of the memorial to the geologists Peach and Horne, who we well also be coming back to in a future post. On that morning however we kept rolling on towards Lochinver and soon were passing the ruins first of Calder House and almost immediately afterwards of Ardvrek Castle. These two buildings span a great deal of the history of this area, and both ruins are interesting in their way.

Perhaps forever fated to be the bridesmaid rather than the bride in this pairing is the grey boxy structure which is all that remains of Calder House. However historically and politically significant it might be, Calder House looks like the derelict shell of an old house, while Ardvreck looks like a ruined castle, and castles are always interesting.

Unsurprisingly the Castle came first. Built on a promentary that is very nearly an island in Loch Assynt in the later part of the fifteenth century by Angus Mor III* of the Clan MacLeod, the castle is joined to the mainland by a narrow strip of beach. This former MacLeod stronghold began life as a simple rectangular block, perhaps three or four floors high - presumably reminiscent of the Pele Towers that can be found all over the border between England and Scotland.

It remained a fairly simple affair for about a hundred years until in the latter part of the sixteenth century when Donald Ban IX made some improvements. It was Ban who added the tower, and following the fashion of the time he also vaulted the cellars and the ceiling of the great hall on the first floor.

Very little remains visible of the other building that stood around the castle itself, or of the ramparts that augmented the building's natural defences. The stronghold needed good defences, because Ardvreck experienced a lot of violence throughout its active life.

It withstood many attacks and sieges over the years, as various branches of the Clan MacLeod fought for dominance and other enemies, from outside the family tried to muscle in on MacLeod territory. It was one such attack, by the MacKenzies of Wester Ross in sixteen seventy two that finally breached the fortress and, after a two week siege, ended MacLeod rule in Assynt.

The castle continued under MacKenzie ownership for some time, and it was nature who had the final word. The great devastation that brought the place to ruin was the result not of attack by men, but a lightning strike in seventeen ninety five.

By that time, however, the main focus of the MacKenzie Lairds of Assynt had moved to Calder House, the construction of which had been ordered in Seventeen Twenty Six by Kenneth MacKenzie II. By all accounts his wife Francis found Ardverck a little too lacking on modern comforts, and Calda was an attempt to make her feel more at home.

There's an argument for suggesting that he might have been showing off a little mind you. When it was constructed Calder House was the pinnacle of gracious living. Apparently it was the first symmetrical manor house in North West Scotland and the design would be influential in the plans for later MacKenzie houses in Wester Ross.

The MacKenzie dominance of Assynt was to be short lived, however. Kenneth built up massive debts supporting the Royalist cause, and his wife was not exactly a paragon of frugal living. By seventeen thirty seven it was all over. Not just the house, but the whole of Assynt was sold to the Duke of Sutherland - the region still resides within the county of Sutherland today - and the brief MacKenzie dominance of the area came to an end.

With that end came the end of Calder House. The Duke of Sutherland had no need for a manor house in Assynt, he had a whole castle of his own on the east coast. Indeed, he (or at least his successor) still does. Besides, even if he'd wanted to he wouldn't have got the chance. Determined that no Sutherland should ever reside there, MacKenzie supporters looted and burned the building on 12th May seventeen thirty seven.

The ruin you see today was finally produced when, demonstrating an attitude to recycling that does them credit, at the end of the eighteenth century a bunch of guys from Inchnadamph at the head of the loch earned themselves one shilling and sixpence each for taking stones from the house and taking them to Inchnadamph for use in the construction of the schoolhouse. That was good money in those days and certainly easier than quarrying stone from the ground.

Ardverck is an old friend. We've been visiting this wonderful little ruin for the better part of twenty years, and I have to say, it's looking pretty good. When we first visited back in the nineties we had to park at the side of the road and both Ardverck Castle and Calder House were covered in warning signs that suggested anyone venturing too close  was taking their lives in their hands. Since then extensive work by Historic Assynt has secured the structures and provided ample car parking and informative sign boards.

Very informative for tourists, if only because they help explain why you see so many geology students on the side of the road. Geology is important in this neck of the woods, for reasons we'll get to in a future post - the same one where we'll talk about Peach and Horne, in fact. For now all I'll say is "drive carefully around here" - geology students turn up on the road as unexpectedly as the Red Deer that roam around here, and hitting students is every bit as damaging and inconvenient as hitting deer...

Indeed, as we moved on from the castle I was forced to break sharply as a young lady in a mud spattered waterproof and a short black skirt - going bravely bared legged in the midge filled air - stepped backwards into the road without looking, presumably to get a different perspective on the rock face she was staring intently at. My speed on the break was rewarded by a broad grin and a cheerful wave. Ah, the immortality of youth...

Just beyond the ruins you have an opportunity to turn right, and head north along the A894 towards the north coast - and we'll be doing precisely that in a few posts time. But we kept cruising westward along the shoreline of Loch Assynt, the western half of which is dotted with small islets sporting clumps of spindly pine trees. It occurs to me that in all the years we've been coming here we have never once stopped to photograph the Assynt Pines, as we have come to call them, which is odd because they're a sight we have come to think of as iconic.

The loch dominates the left hand side of the road. Before the junction with the A849 the view to the right is the massive bulk of Ben More Assynt and his associated peaks. Once past the A849 Ben More is replaced by the smaller but no less impressive form of the mountain Quinag (which so far as I can tell is pronounced Cun-i-Ag). Both of these mountains are actually more like mini mountain ranges in their own right, but Quinag, although much small both in terms of area and height, is rather more impressive because you can see so much of it at once.

Once you've passed the end of the loch the land around the road begins to rise above it, so views become more limited. However, don't despair because this just makes the glimpses you get between hills all the more interesting and in any case before long you're skimming through the small light industrial area that sits on the edge of Lochinver and them suddenly you're driving down the high street with the sea loch stretching out into the Minch.

 Next time we'll be exploring this remarkable little town and its surroundings. See you then!







 
*Yes, all those of you who've been following the Gaelic notes in this blog have already realised that Ardverck Castle was built by "Big Angus". Seriously.