The Colossus: Bealach na Ba

“’Allo dahling, what can I get ya?”

It was strange to feel like we had just wandered into an East End pub, when really we had been travelling for hours to reach the Applecross peninsula: one of the most remote Westerly points in the Scottish Highlands. There was still some way to go and the small matter of getting over one of the highest mountain passes in Britain.

Our quintessentially Cockney barman turned out to have been a local for 9 years and enthusiastically pointed us in the direction of the Bealach na Ba: our mountain to climb, our colossus…

“There’s a mini-bus headin’ over it in abaat ten minutes if ya can flag ‘im daan.”

Ah. The weight from my backpack suddenly felt lighter; the sun less oppressive; the two pints I’d just tanned and my inappropriate footwear now seemed less of a problem. We boarded the bus.
***

The Bealach na Ba rises from sea level to 2,053ft in just 6 miles. The ascent is sensationally, ear-poppingly fast. Historically designed for a one-lane traffic of livestock, the Apline-like road and precipitous drops make for a truly hair-raising experience. But each sudden shot to the nervous system is worth it, as every hairpin bends affords a fresh look at the gloriously dramatic scenery. As we climbed up between two mountains we were afforded views of Lochs sparkling in the sunshine and rolling glens, rich with colour and texture. From the summit we could see the Outer Hebrides: the archipelago was spread out before us in a spectacular panorama.

We eventually came over the other side and reached Applecross, the sun was setting on the Loch. The sky was a tie-dye of colours, bursting with purple and blood-orange. We walked to our hostel passing Highland cows and grazing deer. Feeling like we were in a tourist’s postcard- in the best possible way- I felt a profound sense of peace.

We kayaked, hiked, ate fresh fish and drank whiskey with locals. There is a sense of life in communion with nature in the Highlands. This feeling is replenishing and lasting; it comes back to you in rush hour traffic, polluted streets and dreary offices. There is a beauty and timelessness to this ancient place. I’d encourage anyone to make the journey- which is half the fun- and visit. Spring time is ideal as the sun shines, the views are crystal clear and the dreaded midges (Scottish mosquitoes) aren’t yet out.