Findhorn

'Visit Findhorn' was what someone said to me when I told them I was moving to Scotland a few years ago. I didn't know anything about it. It sounded like an environmental commune.

That's only part of it.

Findhorn is: Improbably giant vegetables grown in sandy hollows. Nature spirits speaking from clearings in the trees. Meditations on Light and Inner Guidance. Visitations from Pan.



A fascinating history of mysticism, New Age enlightenment and spiritual discovery.

Houses made of whisky barrels. Wind turbines on the beach. Turf roofs and sun traps. A reed-bed style sewage processing facility.



Six acres of organic vegetable farming. Pottery kilns. A book shop. A local currency system.



Astounding stonework.



Here's the Original Caravan (big 'O', big 'C') where the founders lived for seven years, next to the Original Garden where they grew the improbably large vegetables that made them famous.



Sanctuaries surrounded by nature.



We camped on site and were inordinately pleased by the thought that the waste we left behind would be eaten by reeds and microorganisms and eventually become part of this place's lush fertility.

I think I'd quite like living in an old whisky barrel!