Strathpeffer – Victorian Spa Town of the Scottish Highlands

There’s something highly restorative about a visit to Strathpeffer. Here in its sheltered glen, 25 miles NW of Inverness in the Scottish Highlands, the air is pure and sweet, the pace of life gentle, the views stunning. But the wholesomeness of the atmosphere shouldn’t be a surprise. Strathpeffer was once a bustling spa town of such popularity and elegance that it rivalled even Harrogate. Between 1870 and 1939, it was one of the most popular health resorts in Europe.

Among its famous visitors were Mrs Pankhurst, Sir Ernest Shackleton, Aleister Crowley and Robert Louis Stevenson to name just a few.

It’s a curious place. Huge stone-built villas and hotels peep coyly from behind lush curtains of shrubbery and trees. Much of the architecture here is so odd that the town could almost be mistaken for an alpine resort. And the veil separating the Victorian era and the present day often seems remarkably thin.

Strathpeffer’s heyday may be long since past, but it’s still a popular stop on the tourist trail. Some kind of spell hangs over the town however because even its coach loads of summer visitors barely stir a ripple in its tranquillity.

A few seem unprepared for its quiet, quirky charms – you’ll invariably meet someone walking back from the town square with a bewildered look on their face. Where are the shops? The sights? The excitement? What can you do here?

Strathpeffer's main square

Me, I think Strathpeffer's a small slice of heaven. And most other visitors apparently think the same – they come back year after year. It’s all here if you look - the tiny museum of childhood, the historical exhibits at the spa pump room, the little craft and eco friendly shops, the wee Art Deco cafe that screens silent movies on its back wall, and the chemist’s shop with its window display of Victorian dispensary paraphernalia.

All this, and the Strathpeffer and District Pipe Band performing in the square every Saturday (May-September). What more could you ask for!

The waters of the sulphurous springs can still be sampled - I haven’t tried them so can’t report on their palatability. But I could hazard a guess! They’re the most sulphurous in the UK, hence their one-time popularity. Discovered in the 1770s, they were believed beneficial for digestive and kidney complaints, heart conditions, rheumatism and skin disorders.

The pavilion was used as an American naval hospital during WWI

Strathpeffer Spa Pump Room Museum
Mrs Mitchell’s first day at the spa – getting a peat bath
(gosh!) 

There are actually five mineral wells in Strathpeffer, containing both sulphur and iron. At one time, guests would be offered water from one tap, which was then topped up by a guide with water from another tap. As the iron and sulphur mixed, the water would turn inky black. The same change could be seen before and during storms. It was said that the devil himself washed in Strathpeffer, but I assume that was meant tongue in cheek!

**An interesting aside on the subject of the devil and Strathpeffer - infamous occultist, magician and poet Aleister Crowley, ‘the wickedest man in the world’ and self-styled Great Beast 666, met his wife Rose here in Strathpeffer in 1903. She was engaged to someone else – an arranged marriage that she was eager to avoid. Instead she eloped to marry Crowley in the neighbouring town of Dingwall, after only a short acquaintance.**

Café tables at Strathpeffer  Railway Station

The railway arrived at nearby Dingwall in 1862. High Society began descending on Strathpeffer for ‘the season’ and its popularity soared, only to wane between the World Wars. The station in Strathpeffer opened in 1885. The line was closed for good in 1946.

Strathpeffer Railway Station

Green Kite fair trade shop, Strathpeffer Station

Highland Museum of Childhood

Come for a stroll with me through the pavilion grounds. I recommend that you take your time, breathe deeply and relax. At some point if you’re lucky there may be an eerie lull in the already sleepy traffic. An unexpected feeling of serenity may descend upon you. And if you listen hard enough, I swear you’ll hear the conversations of the ghosts as they stroll by. The gardens are now semi-wild and thick with moss, Strathpeffer’s grandeur has faded, but its ghosts are still as elegant as any you could ever hope to meet.

Chairs at the bowling green

NB I highly recommend visiting Strathpeffer in the tourist season, as many of the local businesses either reduce their opening hours or remain closed during the quieter winter months.

The Eagle Stone and the Brahan Seer

The Eagle Stone, Strathpeffer, Scotland.
Carved with Pictish symbols of an Eagle and an arch, of unknown meaning.

‘When the Eagle Stone falls 3 times, the Strath will be engulfed by the sea, and boats will moor to the stone.’
              - prediction of Coinneach Odhar (Kenneth Mackenzie), the Brahan Seer,  16thC or 17thC

The Eagle Stone at Strathpeffer, to the north of Inverness, is discreetly but very firmly concreted into the mound on which it stands. Since it’s believed to have fallen twice already, no one’s taking any chances. When it fell for the second time, the Cromarty Firth rose up and flooded the neighbouring town of Dingwall. So they say.

The Eagle Stone is a short walk from the centre of Strathpeffer, up a leafy lane ...

... through a gate ...

... and along a muddy path at the edge of a field.

The Eagle Stone's purpose may have been to commemorate
a marriage or a battle

The back of the stone.

A slab of blue gneiss 2ft 8in tall, the Eagle Stone was also once known as Clach an Tiompain (the stone of the hollow sound or echo) in reference to the sound it makes when struck. I didn’t try it – pretty sure it’s not encouraged!

Local tour guide.

View from the Eagle Stone across to the Cat's Back (Druim Chat).
Brahan is on the other side of this ridge.

On the summit of the Cat's Back is Knockfarrel, a vitrified Iron Age hill-fort. Within the walls of the fort is a well, capped by a stone. The Brahan Seer prophesied that should this stone ever be removed, Loch Ussie will ooze up through the well and flood the valley below to such an extent that ships will sail right up to Strathpeffer and attach their cables to the Eagle Stone. This will happen when the stone has fallen three times.

Sculpture of the Brahan Seer by local woodcarver Allister Brebner

So, what of the man behind this sombre prediction? The Brahan Seer is the most famous of Scotland’s seers. He made a string of prophesies about the future of the Highlands, many of which have since come true. He predicted the Highland Clearances, the building of the Caledonian Canal and the arrival of the railway. He also famously foretold the downfall of the Seaforth Mackenzies, his patrons, with astonishing accuracy over a hundred years before it happened.

Cat under the Seer's kilt.

What little we know of the Brahan Seer was collected from the Gaelic oral tradition and first published in 1877, at least two centuries after he had lived and died. In those intervening years, many conflicting stories had come to be told of him. Although the Brahan Seer may well have existed in reality, almost everything about him has long ago melted into folklore.

The story goes that a young Isle of Lewis boy, Coinneach Odhar, found a small stone with a hole in it. When he looked through it, he was struck permanently blind in that eye but had acquired the gift of second sight. He spoke prophesies throughout his life, later moving to Brahan, near Inverness, where he earned his living as a wandering labourer. At some point he became known as the Brahan Seer.

An alternative story of how Coinneach came by the stone has it that his mother was tending her cattle one night at her summer sheiling overlooking the Baile-na-Cille graveyard in Uig. Close on midnight, she saw the graves opening and the spirits rising up and departing in all directions. Within the hour they returned and the graves closed. All save one. Curious to know why this one spirit hadn't returned, Coinneach’s mother barred the opening with her stick and waited. The spirit who soon tried to enter the grave was a Norwegian princess who had drowned and been washed ashore, far from home. She had returned later than the others, she said, because her journey – to Norway and back - had been longer. In return for being allowed to re-enter her grave, she revealed the location of the seeing stone.

Another account of how Coinneach came by the stone tells that he found it in a raven’s nest.

Yet another story is that, having moved to Brahan, he fell asleep in the sun while cutting peats. He awoke to find the stone on his chest, and by looking through it he could see that the food brought out to him that day was poisoned. And so the stone saved his life.

It’s said the gift of second sight brought no  happiness. Coinneach’s visions were rarely of anything good,  made little sense, and often didn’t seem of much consequence.

He lived into extended, if troubled, old age. Or, alternatively, he was burnt as a witch at Chanonry Point on the Black Isle, by being forced head first into a burning barrel of tar through which stakes were then driven. It may be that both versions of his life are true – there may have been more than one Seer, their stories later becoming confused (belief in the gift of second sight was widespread). Two people may have been remembered as one.

Shortly before his death, the Brahan Seer is said to have thrown his seeing stone into a lake, claiming that many years in the future it would be found by a ‘lame humpbacked mendicant.’ And by then his prophecies would have come true.

Or in another telling of it, he threw the stone into a cow’s hoofprint, cursing those who were about to murder him, and declaring that a child with two navels (or in other versions 4 thumbs and 6 toes) would be born. This child would discover the stone inside a fish and so be gifted with prophetic sight. The hoofprint rapidly filled with water and continued to do so until it became Loch Ussie.

We can’t now know the truth of Coinneach Odhar’s life, or understand his extraordinary experience of the world. We can only speculate about his abilities and his beliefs. As a writer I feel bound to say that each of the stories woven about him is as valid as the next. Each one has its own purpose and power. In truth though I like some of them better than others.

A young boy found a stone with a hole in it through which he saw the future. That’s the best story of all right there.

A small selection of the Brahan Seer’s prophecies:

‘I would not like to live when a black bridleless horse shall pass through the Muir of Ord’

'When it becomes possible to cross the River Ness dry-shod in five places, a frightful disaster will strike the world' (Fulfilled. A fifth bridge was built in the last few days of August,1939. Hitler invaded Poland on September 1st.)

‘When nine bridges cross the River Ness, there will be fire, flood and calamity.’ (A ninth bridge was built in 1987. Many people considered the prophecy fulfilled by the Piper Alpha disaster in 1988.)

‘The day will come when long strings of carriages without horses shall run between Dingwall and Inverness, and more wonderful still, between Dingwall and the Isle of Skye.’ (Fulfilled by the coming of the railway 1860-1897.)

'Strange as it may seem to you this day, the time will come, and it is not far off, when full-rigged ships will be seen sailing eastward and westward by the back of Tomnahurich, near Inverness.' (Fulfilled by the construction of the Caledonian Canal 1803-1822.)

‘The natural arch, or Clach tholl, near Storehead in Assynt, will fall with a crash so loud as to cause the laird of Leadmore’s cattle, twenty miles away, to break their tethers.’ (Fulfilled, 1841. The laird’s cattle had strayed near the arch, and when it fell they stampeded in panic.)

‘A black hornless cow will give birth to a calf with two heads.’ (Fulfilled)

‘The day will come when the Lewsmen shall go forth with their hosts to battle, but they will be turned back by the jaw-bone of an animal smaller than an ass.’ (Surprisingly fulfilled, 1745. Lord Seaforth, who was dining on a sheep’s head at the time, waved the jawbone at his men as he ordered them to return home.)

‘The day will come when the Mackenzies of Fairburn shall lose their entire possessions, and that branch of the clan shall disappear almost to a man from the face of the earth. Their castle shall become uninhabited, desolate and forsaken, and a cow shall give birth to a calf in the uppermost chamber in Fairburn Tower.’ (The last of the Mackenzie line died unmarried in 1850. The castle fell into ruin, and a cow calved in the tower, 1851.)

‘Sheep shall eat men, men will eat sheep, the black rain will eat all things; in the end old men shall return from new lands.’ (A prophecy as yet unfulfilled, and still feared.)

And of the mineral wells at Strathpeffer:
‘Uninviting and disagreeable as it now is, with its thick crusted surface and unpleasant smell, the day will come when it shall be under lock and key, and crowds of pleasure and health seekers shall be seen thronging its portals, in their eagerness to get a draught of its waters’ (Fulfilled. Strathpeffer became an elegant Victorian spa town to rival even Harrogate.)

Solitary research - how safe?

Dunkeld Cathedral, Perthshire

There are places I want to take my characters to. Saturday night pubs in unfamiliar towns, city centres in the wee small hours, late night bus stations. Remote, ruined, derelict sites, unlit back roads and dark, uneasy places. But I'm not always sure I want to venture to these locations myself - not alone.

Of course that's what imagination's for, and there's always vicarious research on the internet. But there are times when I want to find out for myself what a place would feel like on a character's skin. How their footsteps would echo. How the air would taste.

Kilchurn Castle, Loch Awe

What I really need is a research companion.

Researching alone in isolated locations didn't used to worry me. But I've become disappointingly cautious with age. When I was younger I often trekked out into the middle of nowhere by train or by bus or on foot - sometimes a combination of all three - happily and without a thought. Just me, my camera and a timetable. That was before I had a car, and before mobile phones. When I think about it now, I'm not at all sure it was a good idea.

Cup and Ring marks, Achnabreck

Nether Largie South Cairn, Kilmartin Glen

I travelled alone to all sorts of out of the way places - Roman forts in lonely woods, castle ruins, souterrains, cairns, stone circles. And it was fun. Even when I was scared. Perhaps for the very reason that I was scared. And I'm still convinced that the best way to get the sense of a place - to hear its ghosts whispering - is alone.

There were only two occasions when I wished I had someone with me.

One was a visit to Cairnpapple Hill - a prehistoric monument with a long and complex history. Used as a burial and ceremonial site from as early as 3000 BC, it features pits into which cremated human remains were placed, and a burial mound. At one time the site was surrounded by a henge of upright wooden posts. Basically there were a lot of strange goings on at Cairnpapple over a period of about 1600 years.

Whether I'd taken a wrong turn that day or misread the map I can't remember now, but having got off the bus on a quiet country road, I found myself on an unexpectedly long walk. Hopelessly lost, I trudged for almost 2 hours without seeing a fellow soul, under a fierce summer sky.

Cairnpapple Hill, West Lothian

Cairnpapple Hill sweltering in the sun

I found my way eventually, but by then I was feeling very far from home, and my mind was clouded, vision blackening in the heat.

And what a strange place was Cairnpapple Hill. It crackled with energy. The sun sweltered. Wasps tumbled in writhing balls through the grass. All in all, the atmosphere swarmed with unpleasantness.

If I'd had company, perhaps I would have had a different perception of it. I might not have travelled to such a bizarre and sinister Cairnpapple Hill that day. Who knows. It might have all looked very different if I'd at least worn a hat and stayed out of the sun!

The only other time I was unhappy was at Castlelaw Hill Fort. Again I got off the bus and walked. The day was unseasonably gloomy and overcast.

Castlelaw Iron Age Hll Fort, Pentland Hills, Lothian

It didn't seem so bad at first - quite pretty as you can see. But then I dared myself to go down into the souterrain. You might laugh at my horror - just remember I was alone, not a soul was in sight and I had hiked a distance from the nearest road. The hills were silent around me, sky lowering.

Inside Castlelaw souterrain

There were two things down in that souterrain that I was ridiculously terrified by - a column of mist that was slowly spiralling at the far end of the main chamber (aaargh!) and in a second dark chamber a circle of recently discarded beer cans. I stood my ground just long enough to take a few blurry photos - it was one of the scariest places I've ever been. Sadly I don't have a photograph of the swirling mist or the beer cans - I lost my nerve and fled.

On reflection, I imagine swirling mists must be commonplace in souterrains. Beer cans too. But I wasn't forewarned!

Looking back I'm in two minds about my solitary wanderings. I had a lot of fun. They're happy memories. But I wouldn't want my own daughter trekking off alone without a car or a mobile phone. I wouldn't want that at all. In fact even with a car and a phone.

So my question is how do you travel alone and so have a chance to hear the ghosts whispering -  happily scaring yourself witless - whilst staying safe from earthly dangers? I find I don't have the answer. It's a judgement call.

For my current research though I reckon I need a travelling companion - someone strapping to research those rowdy pubs with.

Anyone for the pub then? First round's on me.