Scotland’s Bridge Over the Atlantic.

A road to breeks, ghosts, and fairy flowers

Only in Scotland would you find a bridge covered in fairy foxgloves that leads to a house of trousers, and beyond that to a ghostly graveyard watched over by an ancient hazel wood and spectral chin.

For seekers of mystery and magic, there’s no better time to visit Clachan Bridge than in the first flush of summer, when the fairy flowers glow purple on the bridge’s speckled stone and signpost the way to a Jacobite inn and ancient tombstones.

Clachan Bridge

Let’s begin at the beginning. Your first step is to find Clachan Bridge, romantically nicknamed Scotland’s ‘Bridge over the Atlantic’.

Clachan Bridge links the west coast of Scotland’s mainland to Seil, one of the Slate Islands. It’s a simple yet charming humpbacked bridge that’s still in use today. Built between 1792 and 1793 by Scottish engineer Robert Mylne, it crosses the Clachan Sound.

It gets its name ‘The Bridge over the Atlantic’ because at both ends the Clachan Sound flows into the Atlantic Ocean. It’s not the only bridge to boast this claim; the Bernera Bridge which connects Bernera to Lewis does the same. But bridging the Atlantic isn’t Clachan Bridge’s only selling point, as we’ll soon see.

Clachan Bridge, while unassuming in appearance, is home to an unusual visitor — the fairy foxglove. Its lilac-bright flowers spring to life in early summer, and it loves rooting into lime-rich mortar. Look out for it clinging hardily to castle walls, walled gardens, and of course old bridges.

These bonnie but tough flowers are alpine in nature, native to Austria, Switzerland, and Italy. So how did they end up in Scotland? One theory claims that the flowers were brought to the British Isles by Roman centurions due to the fairy foxgloves found growing near Hadrian’s Wall. Unlikely in this case, given that Clachan Bridge wasn’t built until 1793. More likely, it was introduced here by horticulturalists.

Still, these flowers will have seen many comings and goings through the centuries, including the stranding of an enormous whale that measured 79 feet long and became stranded in Clachan Sound in 1835.

The House of Trousers

Once you cross the bridge and set foot on Seil one of the first sights you’ll see is Tigh an Truish, the House of Trousers. Or ‘breeks’, if you want to get technical.

Today Taigh an Truis is an inn serving hearty pub grub and a side of old-fashioned Highland hospitality. However, after the failed Jacobite rebellions in the 1700s the inn became a stopping place for the Islanders to change out of their kilts and into trousers.

This was an era when Highland dress like the fèileadh-mòr (great kilt) and carrying a sgian-dubh (the Highland dagger) or playing the bagpipes was banned by the British government. Bagpipes in particular were viewed as an instrument of war and English soldiers trembled to hear them because the blood-curdling skirl of pipes often preceded the fearsome Highland Charge.

In remote areas like Seil, with no government officers to enforce the rules, the Islanders wore their traditional Highland garb. When they had cause to go to the mainland however they stopped at the inn nearest the bridge and changed into trousers. Therefore the inn earned its nickname Taigh an Truis, the House of Trousers.

Today, Taigh an Truis is an idyllic stopping point to admire the view over a cold pint — and perhaps symbolically change your trews if the mood takes you.

An island of ghosts

Onto Seil itself. Just 12 miles south of Oban, Seil (Saoil in Gaelic) is one of the Slate Islands which lie just 12 miles south of Oban and north of Jura. As the name suggests the quarrying of Dalradian slate was once a key industry on these Inner Hebridean islands — 8 million slates per year at the turn of the 20th century.

But those with an appetite for the supernatural should head to the parish of Kilbrandon. The lonely graveyard has been there since medieval times and some of the older headstones date to the 17th century. Legend has it that the graves are watched over by a curious entity known as MacMarquis’s chin.

MacMarquis was a church minister in Kilbrandon parish and the last of the island’s MacLachlan line who presided over the parish as church ministers for generations. Yet some believe that John MacLachlan or ‘MacMarquis’ watches over the parish still. Writing in his book Netherlorn, Argyllshire and its Neighbourhood Patrick Hunter Gilles describes the slab which marks MacLachlan’s resting place. He goes on to say:

‘A curiously shaped fragment of basalt, resembling a human chin, rests upon the slab. It is known as ‘Smig mhic Mharcuis’ (the chin of MacMarquis). It is popularly believed that this stone, by some supernatural power, revolves upon its axis and points with the chin to a new-made grave, remaining in the same position until a fresh interment takes place. It is also said that should the ‘chin’ be removed from its place on the stone it will always return.’

The idea that the ‘chin’ watches over the freshly buried points to an old Highland belief. Traditionally, the spirit of the person most recently buried was charged with watching over the other graves until a new corpse relieved them of their duty. Highland families wanted to avoid this fate for their loved one. If more than one burial took place in a day, it was a race to reach the cemetery first. Unsurprisingly, Highland funerals have a reputation for being riotous affairs.

In the graveyard at Kilbrandon however, MacMarquis performs the role of guardian of the graves eternally. Whether that’s an honour or a curse is now lost to the mists of time.

Ancient woodland

The graveyard and its dead aren’t the oldest inhabitants of Seil, however. The ancient Ballachuan Wood is one of the finest examples of temperate rainforest (also known as the Celtic rainforest) in Scotland, and is perhaps the oldest native woodland in Britain. Experts reckon it’s been here since 7,500 BC!

Located on the southeast tip of Seil, the woodland supports a rich array of lichens and wildlife, from otters and herons to roe deer and marsh butterflies. The woodland mantles a ridge overlooking Cuan Sound and is a fascinatingly unique place regardless of the season. In spring, a bright spray of bluebells carpets the woodland floor and wild garlic pungently scents the air. Ballachuan means “settlement by the sea” in Gaelic. If you wind your way through the hazel wood and down the slope one fine May say, you’ll find a placid shoreline ringed with delicate sea campion. Perhaps a cuckoo’s call will drift out from the wood or a heron will ghost the water. All part of an ecosystem that’s remained unbroken for thousands of years.

In autumn look for the rare Hazel Gloves Fungus which only grows in old hazelwoods. That alone gives a clue as to how ancient this woodland is. The fungus itself looks like a hideous prop from a horror film, sprouting from hazel trees in rusty-orange blobs, its finger-like projections clutching at the branches. If you feel brave enough to touch one, you’ll discover that they’re silky-soft as fawn skin gloves. They only grow in temperate rainforests and aren’t as gross as they seem — Hazel Gloves Fungus is a sign of excellent air quality.

Have we convinced you to visit Clachan Bridge and the intriguing island of Seil? Let us know in the comments.