JURA
The Scottish island of Jura was once home to George Orwell, who famously called it the most ‘un-get-at-able place’ in the world. It remains apart even today, home to more wild animals than people, a place of prehistoric geology, liminal atmosphere and a rarer than ever frontier spirit. Deputy editor David Lintern and friends enjoy a week exploring Britain’s most remote coastline
WHEN OUTDOOR MAGAZINES wheel out their ‘most remote places in Britain’ material, it’s usually a cue for another piece on the Fisherfield. Otherwise known as the Great Wilderness, it deserves its reputation as mountainous and majestic but perhaps gets undue attention on the remoteness front, given it’s a mere two-hour walk from the nearest road.
Surely that’s it for Britain though, isn’t it? We’re told over and over that we don’t have ‘wilderness’ – we don’t have the scale or the same system of public lands as the States, say. Learning more about our own history of enclosure, as well as that of other countries, I’ve grown to understand how our own domestic trauma was exported to foreign fields in the form of colonialism and wondered if we’re looking for answers in the wrong place. Maybe we have more in common with others, despite our size. Perhaps our wild frontiers might still be best sought at the fringes, just like the ‘Wild West’ of the past. The ‘wilderness’ of America was certainly populated by native peoples, as was ours. And remote from where, exactly? Does human presence make it less wild, or do we need to rethink?
WHERE THE ROAD ENDS
I want to tell you about a place in Britain where the road really does end… and goes on ending for several days in a row. Somewhere only accessible on foot or by water, by hoof or by wing, a place where time crashes in on itself like the sea, somewhere raw and red in tooth and claw. There are no big summits to hang our egos from here, and almost no paths to reach them. Each coastal kilometre is hard-won, a maze of caves and arches, tilting terraces and raised beaches to be puzzled over and picked through. The west coast of Jura is the wildest and most remote place in Britain you may have never thought of exploring, but you should – and as soon as you possibly can. Jura’s west coast had been on my bucket list for years, but sometimes these things need time to gestate. Mick has ancestry in Jura and was keen to connect in some way. It was harder to plan a springtime escape for Tim (he’s a gardener), but the literal and metaphorical edginess of the endeavour caught his imagination, and slowly a plan emerged.
A dreich, early start from Glasgow saw us speeding past the lochs and forestry of Lomond and Kintyre, increasingly anxious as we were delayed first by a landslide and then a
