Fiag lies in the empty country of central Sutherland, in the far north of Scotland, where one road, the A836, runs between Lairg and the north coast through miles of peat bog, heather and lochs. Loch Fiag and its bridge are close, a small, quiet water set among low hills, and the ridge of Ben Klibreck rises to the north, a rounded mountain above nine hundred metres. This is part of the Flow Country, a vast blanket of peatland that is one of the largest in Europe, and the habitat is home to golden plovers, greenshank, red-throated divers and, now and then, an eagle overhead.
The road is the main reason to come. It is mostly single-track with passing places, and it runs through a land with almost no trees or houses, so the sense of space is huge. Surfaces are generally good, but there are blind crests and rough patches, and sheep and red deer wander onto the road. Learn the passing-place etiquette: pull in on the left, or opposite the oncoming vehicle, and wave a thank you. Weather can change from sun to rain and wind in minutes, and midges in summer are legendary.
Services are extremely thin. Lairg, the nearest village, has fuel and a few shops, while Altnaharra, farther north, is a tiny place with a hotel. Fill the tank, carry waterproofs and spare layers, and keep a phone charged, because mobile signal is patchy.
History here is a story of clearances. In the early nineteenth century, many tenants were evicted to make room for sheep, and the ruins of their houses still dot the glens. Today the population is tiny, but the land holds a strong, proud sense of identity. Late spring and early summer, when the days are long and the bogs bloom with cotton grass, are the best times. In winter, snow can close the road, and the nights are long and dark.