Is this off-grid Scottish community the ultimate model for sustainable living in Britain today?

The boat ride from Mallaig to Inverie, on the Knoydart Peninsula, is a journey in itself: 45 minutes of sea spray and sky, the Scottish mainland slipping behind as you edge towards a land that feels suspended in time.

I’d come to this part of The Highlands to start the grueling Beyond the Ultimate 125-kilometer Highlands Ultra, a three-day 78-mile race that weaves through the western peninsula’s peaks and glens. The only other way to reach the village is a two-day hike over tough terrain, so everything—runners included—must come by boat.

Most know Knoydart for its title: ‘Home to Britain’s most remote pub’. But that Guinness World Record headline obscures something far more interesting: A 130-strong community that lives off-grid under the stewardship of the Knoydart Foundation, generates its own hydroelectric power, and collectively runs everything from its land to the pub, the shop and café, the ranger service, tourist accommodation and even a community-owned farm.

In a world of climate anxiety, housing inequality and crumbling rural services, it feels quietly radical.

The Beyond the Ultimate race organizers work closely with the Knoydart community to minimize its impact. Runners stay in local campsites, eat local produce, receive hand-carved wooden medals made by local artists using native wood, and 30 percent of all race fees are donated directly to the Knoydart Foundation.

The evidence of community stewardship is visible everywhere, even in the wilderness. Deer fences protect areas of regenerating forest where over 600,000 trees have been planted. Rangers from the Knoydart Forest Trust work to undo the ecological damage caused by decades of absentee landlords and grouse shooting.

“Everything feeds back into itself. It’s all part of the circular economy.”

- Trish Birch, artist and Knoydart resident

The goal is to create ‘stepping stones’, linking smaller woodlands between Kinloch Hourn (towards the north of the Peninsula) to Loch Nevis to the south, enabling Indigenous plants and wildlife to thrive.

And you don’t have to be an ultrarunner to immerse yourself in this spectacular terrain. Rangers offer guided tours where a scenic hike is paired with insight into the area’s history of neglect and the ongoing efforts to restore and responsibly manage the land.

Speaking in her cozy kitchen, artist and community member Trisha Birch tells me, “The landscapes as we see them were not how they used to be. It’s called ‘the last wilderness’, but everything’s being eaten by deer. They have no predators. There’s a lot of repair work to be done.”

But this rewilding is not without controversy. The Knoydart Forest Trust know some local people are concerned about the perceived loss of traditional landscapes and the unknown impact of reintroducing long-lost flora—a huge part of the Knoydart rewilding scheme.

And talks of introducing lynx or wolves to cull the unwanted deer population butt against farmers’ legitimate fears for their livestock.

Trisha first came to Knoydart to clear the Rhododendron ponticum invasive species, and ended up staying to plant native woodland through the pandemic. Today, she works part-time at a tree nursery, creates art using local wool and dyes, and sells it through the community craft shop, where sales fund local initiatives.

“Every sale from the shop takes a 30 percent commission, which goes back into Knoydart Trading, the commercial arm of the Knoydart Foundation,” she explains. “Their chosen charity is the foundation, so it goes back into the community.”

Once part of a 12th-century kingdom and later held by various clans, Knoydart’s land was gradually sold to private landlords. It culminated in mass evictions during the 19th-century Highland Clearances at the height of its population which stood at around 1,000.

The community’s long history of resistance, including the symbolic land raid by the Seven Men of Knoydart in 1948, paved the way for the successful community buy-out in 1999, bringing the land under local control through the Knoydart Foundation.

The foundation was set up in 1997 after the deteriorating land was put into receivership. A partnership of local residents, the John Muir Trust, the Chris Brasher Trust, Highland Council and other backers, bought the Knoydart Estate for GBP£750,000 (approximately USD$1m) after raising funds through grants, donations and community fundraising.

The volunteer-led foundation owns around 17,000 acres and provides services and jobs via Knoydart Trading. It’s the reason this place is different. Rather than one landowner, residents collectively shape its future. In practice, this means everything from deer management to affordable housing is overseen locally. The result is not utopia, but it is inspiring. “Everything feeds back into itself,” says Trisha. “It’s all part of the circular economy.”

Tourism meanwhile is both a blessing and a burden. Visitor numbers from the UK, USA and mainland Europe have surged in recent years to around 30,000 a year, prompting concerns about infrastructure and capacity.

That economy extends to the Old Forge, the famous pub now owned and operated by the community via the Old Forge Community Benefit Society. The society pays staff wages and all profits are reinvested back into the pub. In 2021, after a period of decline, residents raised over GBP£1m (USD$1.35m) to buy and refurbish it; donors’ names are now elegantly carved into the wooden bar top.

“It’s about more than just food and drink,” says Stephanie Harris, the pub’s business development manager. “It’s a space where people from across the community can meet. In a place this rural, neutral social spaces are really important.”

On the night I visit, locals and visitors crowd in. Young residents play board games at one table while a group of men in their sixties take turns on the pool table. A traditional Scottish folk music session gets jamming in the corner. Hearty food is served using local ingredients including venison from Knoydart Trading, and ales from Knoydart Brewery.

Despite its traditional aura, Knoydart doesn’t suffer from an aging population. In fact, young people move to the area, rather than leave it, in part thanks to the foundation’s housing scheme. It’s why Stephanie can build her own home while in her mid-30s.

And with no ancestral ties in the area as families only going back three generations, there is no sense of a community clique, several newcomers tell me. Outsiders are immediately folded into the Knoydart family.

Still, a community-run model isn’t without its challenges. “Most people here have two or three jobs,” says Trisha, “because there’s so much to do to keep things running.” Stephanie agrees. “The volunteer effort is stretched pretty thin. That’s why we employ people in paid roles where we can. Otherwise, it just wouldn’t work.”

Tourism meanwhile requires careful management. Visitor numbers from the UK, USA and mainland Europe have surged in recent years to around 30,000 a year, prompting concerns about capacity. Some members of the foundation shy away from publicity telling me off the record that they are concerned about the rise in visitor numbers.

The village has limited visitor accommodation and the serene Loch Nevis campsite, which is popular with those hiking in from the north, only has basic facilities. Projects are in the pipeline to develop the campsite and create more accommodation.

Cruise ships now occasionally stop in, unloading hundreds of people, bringing them across on a motorized dinghy in small batches. Yet for many, tourism is essential. “We do really need visitors,” says Trisha. “It supports the shop, the accommodation, the art, the pub and all that income goes back into the community.”

The farm, too, reflects this careful balancing act. Set up on land bought by the foundation in 2022, Knoydart Farm grows seasonal salad, herbs, tomatoes and potatoes for the pub, café and local veg boxes. It’s a Community Interest Company (CIC) with five paid staff, two poly tunnels (a growing tunnel for plants), and a vision for kimchi production.

Visitors to Knoydart are warmly welcomed to visit the farm, and the local primary school children can often be seen harvesting peas, strawberries and potatoes. “We want to replace as much imported veg as we can,” says Ben Nunn, who manages it. “But it’s also about education, volunteering and giving people a connection to what they eat.”

Recreation projects are also growing. The new Long Beach sauna called Teas Mòr, co-founded by Ben Nunn, and Stephanie’s brother Mark, is already attracting bookings. Ben smiles as he tells me about his three-year-old’s wholesome summer so far: Fishing from the pier, spotting dolphins, riding horses. “I’ve never lived somewhere where you can have that kind of experience for children so young, so quickly. That’s exactly what I wanted to give to them when I moved here from Glasgow.”

And that’s what Knoydart offers visitors, too. A glimpse of a different way to live. One where nature is restored, decisions are shared, and community is more than just a buzzword. You just have to make the crossing first.

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Lily was hosted by Beyond the Ultimate Highlands Ultra and camped at Long Beach campsite. She visited The Old Forge and community-run shop. For more information, visit the Knoydart Foundation.

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