The Last House

By Eleanor Dunbar

Here we are at John O’Groats, the most northerly settlement on the British mainland, looking towards the island of Stroma and across the Pentland Firth to Orkney in the distance. For those not familiar with the area, Groats, as it is known locally, is not actually the northernmost point of the British mainland - that distinction goes to the towering cliffs of Dunnet Head some 6 miles to the west – but the place where the road to the north from Edinburgh peters out and you need a boat to reach the Northern Isles.

This scattered crofting community, still populated with families who have lived here for generations, is centred on the small fishing harbour. With the advent of cars in the 20th century Groats became destination in its own right and nowadays it’s assailed by visitors from all over the world clamouring to take selfies in front of its iconic signpost; including thousands undertaking epic physical challenges for personal satisfaction and charitable fundraising purposes.

This is the scene before the days of tarmac and stone harbour, when peat for the hearth was dug from the brae and the fishing yoles were pulled up to shore.

The wee hoosie still stands, although it is no longer a dwelling. It takes centre stage, not simply as the First and Last house but for sentimental reasons: the granny of one of our stitchers (Lorraine) was born here more than 100 years ago, at the start of the 20th century.

The seascape beyond never fails to beguile, in spite of the scurry of tourists around the jetty. My favourite time is on a peaceful summer’s evening when the crowds evaporate, the rays from the setting sun sparkle on the waves and the singular colours and contours of the islands are thrown into breathtaking relief.