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  • Quee MacArthur

Achmelvich

Walking towards the beach at Achmelvich brings a wide open view of the sea. Waves glinted in the light. The white sand was soft underfoot and the beach was covered in tree like rivulets of the retreating tide. As we crossed the beach Charlie remembered a structure he had seen years before that is known as the Hermit’s castle. It was built by a local man who had returned from the first world war. Charlie ran ahead and disappeared from sight. He soon reappeared over the ridge of the hill waving us on. As the castle came into view it first appeared to be a large fortified structure, but as we got nearer we realised the scale was deceptive and inside there was just enough room for a single person to lie down with a fireplace at their feet with little glass brick windows to illuminate the interior.

Outside the waves crashed against the rocks resonating inside the tiny room.





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