
For a city of its size, Inverness has a pleasing density of places to buy and talk about books, and most of them sit within a ten-minute walk of one another. That makes a wet afternoon pleasantly easy to fill. Start near the Victorian Market, where a long-established second-hand shop keeps its Scottish interest shelves close to the door: expect dog-eared paperbacks of Neil Gunn, hillwalking guides from the 1970s, and the odd scarce Gaelic title you will not find online. Cross the river and you will find a brighter, more contemporary shop with a well-chosen new fiction table and a solid local history section.
Staff in both are usually happy to be interrupted with a question about which local author to try first, and neither will blink if you ask for something about a specific glen. If you have arrived by train, this is a sensible first stop. Pick up a paper map, a Highland novel, and check the noticeboards — they are thick with flyers for poetry nights, book groups and author events across the region.
Inverness works well as a base for a literary day out because so much lies within an hour's drive.
Head north from Inverness and you enter the country of Neil Gunn, one of the great twentieth-century Scottish novelists. He was born in Dunbeath, on the Caithness coast, and the village and its strath shape much of his best work. The Silver Darlings is the obvious place to start — a novel about the herring fishing that reads as both history and elegy. There is a memorial to Gunn in the village, and the coastal walk down the Dunbeath strath makes a fine short outing.
Further along, the harbours of Lybster, Helmsdale and Wick carry the atmosphere Gunn wrote about: herring boats turned into creel boats, cliffs, and long summer light that never quite goes away. Carry a book. You will want to stop.
Turn west instead and the literary landscape shifts towards Gaelic. Sorley MacLean, born on Raasay and buried on Skye, is the towering figure of twentieth-century Gaelic poetry, and his long poem about the cleared township of Hallaig is among the most moving things written in these islands. You do not need Gaelic to read it, though hearing it aloud is worth seeking out.
Ullapool, on the road to the far north-west, has a small and excellent bookshop plus a spring book festival that draws writers from across Scotland; its shelves are unusually strong on poetry and local history. Further south, Gairloch and Applecross offer quieter pleasures — second-hand shelves in cafés, poems pinned to village hall walls, and a living literary culture rather than a preserved one.
The Highland literary tradition is oral as much as printed: stories, songs, place names, and a habit of carrying poems in the memory rather than on the shelf. Buying a book from a shop you have actually visited, then reading it in the landscape that produced it, is the simplest way to tap into that. Take your time, accept the weather as part of the experience, and let a glen or a harbour do the rest of the work for you.
Plan a long but rewarding journey to see dramatic landscapes, fishing villages, and iconic viewpoints with careful timing and rest stops.
Comments
ALina Kelian
19th May 2018 ReplyStrathisla Inverness No rushing, no fuss — just thoughtful notes and practical help, written by people who care. ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat.
Rlex Kelian
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Roboto Alex
21th May 2018 ReplyStrathisla Inverness No rushing, no fuss — just thoughtful notes and practical help, written by people who care. ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat.