The descent into Lower Diabaig is always a shutter-fest for me. I can’t seem to take enough photos of it and I have a hard time pulling myself away to drive out of it. We went to Gille Brighde this trip with our Gairloch friends Rowena and Rob, which is a must place to eat; make reservations and check their opening hours/days (https://www.gille-brighde.com/).

Diabaig lies north of Torridon in the northwest highlands, down a winding single track road that will have you on the edge of your seat, both by the views and possibly the drive, although you’ll rarely meet another driver and if you do, you can see them coming from a good distance. It’s worth it.

It’s a small community, and most don’t seem to stick around in the winter, but those who do say it’s lovely and isolated.  It doesn’t snow much in the winters, but when it does on the upper elevation where the road is, the people of Torridon have been good in helping them out. Having grown up in a remote area myself, where blizzards would make traveling into town pretty treacherous, this doesn’t really discourage me to still look for houses for sale here. 

Even paradise has its moments (and midge as well). TJ met a man outside Gille Brighde as he swatted away a few of the pesky beasties and he turned out to be a local who “owned the house with the red tin roof off the road” — he means this house, of course, and as others have said, if he had 5 pence for every photograph taken of the house, he’d be rich.

He told TJ what so many have said: Avon Skin-So-Soft is the way to beat the midge. I might smugly add, I seemed immune to their annoyances, but I’m also convinced it might be due to the vitamin C serum I slather all over my face every morning (another old wives tale from a funny little book about the midge).

The owner (or maybe the owner’s son, as others have told me) was the example of happiness: sitting leisurely enjoying the sun set over the bay, telling TJ we should just move here, and that it was the best place on earth.