This Is the Most Remote Pub in Britain

Scotland’s Knoydart peninsula is sometimes called Britain’s “last wilderness.” The land juts out between Loch Nevis and Loch Hourn—that’s “Loch Heaven” and “Loch Hell,” respectively—and has no through roads, no connections to the U.K.’s road network. What few locals live here, in the craggy Highlands of the west coast, get around on foot, by boat, or drive between their tiny communities down narrow lanes. They help each other with whatever resources they have.

If you’re in search of a more analog life like I am, it’s an idyllic world. I spent a week here on a hiking trip with Wilderness Scotland, wandering footpaths up windswept mountains, riding tiny ferries between old fishing ports, and getting my fill of hand-ground coffee, flapjacks, and sausage rolls at local homes and outposts.

And drinking beer. The Old Forge in Inverie—the peninsula’s main hub, with a population of roughly 100—feels like the last pub on Earth. Despite only being accessible by foot or ferry, the community-owned spot is becoming a destination, putting Knoydart squarely on the map. To get here before more crowds roll in, here’s how.

During my week with Wilderness Scotland, our nine-person group hiked 57 miles and up 8,608 feet, fought through acres of bracken, and battled our fair share of ticks. The hikers varied greatly, from a burnt-out Boston corporate hiking in her headphones to an English grandmother leading the pack with her slow and steady pace.

It was a motley crew, to be sure, but shared accommodations, leg cramps, and fabulous meals at Doune Bay Lodge transformed us into a strange, tight-knit little family. After our four-course dinners, Dave, our guide, would spread out his map across the coffee table, presenting us with tomorrow’s options, given the weather.

This is how we wound up at The Old Forge—twice. The first time, we hiked 10.5 miles and up 2,063 feet, stumbling into the pub with Jell-O legs that more than earned our pints. The second time (1,683 feet), inclement weather diverted us from other locales like the Isle of Eigg, and the pub—which has a full menu—was a natural spot for dinner on the town. The only spot for dinner on the town.

That second time, I whipped off my rain gear and ordered a Scottish cider from the counter, sidling up to a long wooden table while eyeing the pub’s guitar. I grabbed it, gently forcing the room into a John Denver sing-along. The 18th-century room, with an old stone fireplace and wooden chairs, was filled to the brim with beat-up musical instruments, hikers, and ferried-in folks from across the globe. But everyone knows John Denver, and for a moment, it was like starring in a Hallmark movie. A tiny community on the edge of nowhere, enjoying a drink and some music, hiding away from everything.

But times are changing for Inverie, and for Knoydart.

“There was a small cruise ship here the other day,” says Louise Costello, former owner of Coffee Knoydart. “The first one ever. Maybe 50 people?” She sighs. “This is the beginning of the end.”

As it turns out, the remoteness of The Old Forge, ironically, has made Inverie a destination, forcing Knoydart into its next chapter. Don’t be a part of the cruising crowd; visitors can arrive directly in Inverie via the Western Isles ferry from Mallaig, which is connected by train from Glasgow. But to truly earn your suds, the trek from Kinloch Hourn (18 miles) or up and down Sgurr Coire Choinnichean (10.5 miles) is a true pilgrimage, best done with a guide or a local. Reservations are needed for dinner, though the best seat in the house is not in the house at all—it’s at a table by the water, watching the ships not roll in. For now.