What’s going Doune in Knoydart: Scotland’s off-grid highland haven
A wee dram of whisky at the summit with Loch Nevis in the background
Rugged Munros, off-grid retreat, dinner from the loch: grab your rucksack and explore the wild Knoydart peninsula writes Harris Clark
Legendary Scottish environmentalist John Muir once said, “Of all the paths you take in life make sure some of them are dirt.” This seemed apt life advice as I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow and continued to battle against the steep, heather-clad side of Roinn na Beinne.
Travel now — even for lovers of the outdoors — has become pretty sanitised. Walking huts have been replaced by bespoke cabins, with luxury yet faceless whirlwind trips becoming the norm. The sense of exploration and authenticity that attracts so many people to adventure travel has been diluted.
So, I decided to jump on the train from Glasgow to Mallaig, then head for the tiny settlement of Doune on the Knoydart peninsula. Only accessible by boat or nearly a day two walk, Knoydart is part of the mainland, but to all intense purposes has the character of an island. The area itself is separated from the mainland by long snaking fjord-like sea lochs. Legend has it that Loch Hourn and Loch Nevis are bastardisations of the Gaelic words for heaven and hell, only adding to Knoydart’s ethereal and mystical feel. In fact, up on the hill with the imposing Ladhar Bheinn – Knoydart’s highest Munro – dominating the horizon, it felt like the beginning of a Tolkienesque adventure.
I wanted to get to grips with just what makes Knoydart so special and as I had limited time on the peninsula, I spoke to professional mountain guide Stephen Willis. Now I’ve climbed my fair share of Munros – even the Atlas Mountains – but Steve is a hillwalking and Knoydart expert, having led countless trips there over the years.
When I asked him what makes Knoydart so unique, he said: “There are no waymarked paths. There is a road on the peninsula, but It’s just two dead ends with a lot of potholes in between. I think it’s part of the charm of the place because you can’t take your car, you’re going to just have to go there and go with the flow. So, it’s got that wild feel. It’s all quite rough and ready.
“The range of wildlife is remarkable. Then you have the three Munros, there are multiple Corbetts (Scottish mountains over 762m and under 914m). You can see Golden Eagles, white-tailed eagles, otters, whales and dolphins.”
However, reconnecting with nature doesn’t mean slumming it. Andrew Brodie and Rebecca Rutherford took on the Doune Knoydart Restaurant and Rooms in 2021. Picture off-grid cabin-style bedrooms meets fancy bothy in an idyllic bay and you’re just about there. The accommodation is modest but comfortable and the restaurant is perhaps better described as a dining room, a long table is set around a communal area with armchairs and a roaring stove meaning you’d be forgiven for thinking you were in a mountaineering hut. The food is unpretentious and tucking into a hearty stew or venison pie makes you think for all the benefits of fine dining, nothing beats a bit of outstanding fresh homemade cooking.
Andrew says sustainability is key to everything they do at Doune: “All the food we serve is locally sourced, the venison we get from a neighbouring estate, the langoustines from a fisherman just up the Loch. We generate all our electricity on-site via solar power, we have to be self-reliant here it’s just part of the environment.”
Ironically 15 years ago this would have been seen as a niche for tree huggers, but now ‘slow travel’ is the buzzword of the day. Knoydart’s isolation from the modern world has perversely made Doune cool in the age of climate conscience. However, there were no beanie-wearing hipsters or Insta influencers; Knoydart’s remoteness and ruggedness protects it from becoming gentrified, or a fad and living in tandem with natural landscape has an automatic appeal. Guests who stay at Doune will have a more intimate experience, as Andrew and Rebecca have their own boat which means they can create a personalised itinerary for anyone, from serious Munro baggers to nature lovers who just want a small walk and a book by the beach.
However, to really embrace the experience it’s best to get stuck in with this communal, eco-style living. Andrew even told me a story of a guest who wanted to stay at Doune so badly that he ended up volunteering: “I was dropping this couple back in Mallaig and I could just see on this guy’s face that he did not want to go home. So I said to him, why don’t you stay for two weeks and volunteer and that was that, he kissed his wife goodbye and came back with me.”
Most visitors to Knoydart come for the hills and Ladhar Bheinn stands out. Stephen’s face lit up when I mention the name of the hill: “I’ve been up three times and it’s one of the best Munros in Scotland, it’s hard-fought though. You start down at Barrisdale and there is old stalker’s path that goes into the corrie. You could even just do that; walk up into the corrie and get the experience.
“You get a nice view up to Beinn Sgritheall on the north side of the mainland. If you get to the summit on a good day, the views of the Small Isles are absolutely staggering. you’ll see back to Ben Nevis, you’ll see north up to Torridon, whilst Skye unfolds in front of you.”
Despite all this, Knoydart is less of a natural wildness than the Cairngorms or the Cullins; it’s remote but it’s no untamed land. Then, what makes Doune such an idiosyncratic destination? Thinking back to the words of John Muir, such an isolated and untouched way of living gives an innate connection with the incredible landscape that surrounds us. Maybe, Stephen, the mountain guide sums it up best, “there’s something a bit magic about Doune”.
