Light Falls on Ardnamurchan
A late-November visit to the Ardnamurchan peninsula, the most westerly point of mainland Britain, offered ever-changing light, quiet white-shell beaches and coastal drama. The experiment of a week of self-imposed isolation in this remote part of Scotland proved to be creatively stimulating and mentally restorative. With a little patience and willingness to ignore gloomy weather predictions, fellow photographers should consider Ardnamurchan for its diversity of landscapes, dramatic coastlines, sandy beaches and ancient woodlands.
There are many reasons from visiting Ardnamurchan at this less popular time of the year. First, it felt as though I had the area mostly to myself, and during my most recent visit the white-shell beaches of Sanna and Glenuig were mostly empty of other visitors, with just the occasional dog walker for company. The autumnal colours, particularly this year, continued to be spectacular. At the same time, the occasional gusts of rain generated a steady stream of beautiful rainbows throughout the week; first lighting up the isles of Eigg, Muck and Rum, and then adding drama to sea lochs shimmering with tints of red, yellow and ochre. Last, but not least, there were no midges to ruin the day and the narrow roads were largely devoid of traffic!
The most obvious focal point on the Ardnamurchan peninsula is the 1849 lighthouse. Built by the famous ‘Lighthouse Stevensons’ it stands 180 feet above the sea. Despite the arrival of GPS, and a mass of other modern navigational aids, the light remains an imposing and reassuring presence for local fishermen and yachtsmen, perched above the volcanic cliffs that mark the transition between the sheltered waters of the Sound of Mull and the Sea of the Hebrides. In almost any weather, the churning tides and steep-sided seabed produce remarkable standing waves which then collapse to pound unceasingly on the black, igneous rocks that skirt the headland.
Three miles north of Ardnamurchan Point, the crofting communities of Portuairk and Sanna overlook a string of peaceful white-shell beaches, each divided from the other by rocky intrusions and backed by high dunes of machair grass. For anyone who loves being by the sea, these are marvellous places to be, with rockpools to explore, seaweed to gather, rocks to clamber over, shells to collect and ample opportunities simply to sit and consider how best to make images of this starkly beautiful landscape.
Away from its seashores, Ardnamurchan also offers further opportunities to explore; ranging from the salt marshes around Kentra to the Victorian fishing pools of the Shiel River which drains into Loch Moidart at Dorlin. And here, you also find a castle. Not just any castle but a real piece of history in the shape of Castle Tioram, sitting alone on its own small island, reached at low water by a pebbly causeway.
Finally, the striking feature of Glenuig should not be missed: a narrow glen lined by ancient Atlantic oaks through which the road swoops and dips until it heads back down to the sea. Bear left in the village past the excellent Glenuig Inn, and you reach another fine beach, this time fringed by ancient woods which, at this time of year, created a miasma of warm colours that dapple the lapping waters of the incoming tide.
Ardnamurchan may not enjoy the global reputation of Skye or Glencoe, or even Harry Potter’s nearby Glenfinnan Viaduct, but as a place to spend a creative and restorative week, I think it takes some beating. With a little patience and willingness to ignore gloomy weather predictions, fellow photographers should appreciate Ardnamurchan for its diversity of landscapes, dramatic coastlines, sandy beaches and ancient woodlands. It is a fine place to wander and to ponder the frenetic pace of our lives beyond.