In the summer this is a gentle place, the sea here doesn’t shout; it murmurs.
Waves brush the stones in Badcall Bay, and on still evenings the loudest sounds are from the seals splashing in the bay.. Eddrachilles was built for reflection — once the parish manse, now a place where people come to rest, to think, and to listen to the quiet.
That quiet has its own gentle rhythm. From the courtyard windows you can watch dozens of small birds breakfasting just a few metres away — the flutter of Goldfinches feasting on sunflower seeds, a pair of Redpolls, a Robin darting in for crumbs. They too like to eat in peace, and their company has become part of the calm that fills the hotel.
That’s why our stays are for guests aged twelve years and over, and why the house and gardens are reserved for residents through the morning and afternoon. It isn’t a rule made against anyone; it’s a promise made for everyone — that guests can read, write, craft, knit, paint, sketch, or simply breathe without interruption.
By evening, the tone shifts. The lights come up in The Glebe Kitchen, local families and neighbours gather alongside our resident guests, and conversation hums across the tables. Children - of all ages - tuck into their suppers with enviable appetite, and the laughter that follows is the sound of belonging.
Quiet doesn’t mean silence. It means space — space for sea and sky, for thought, for creativity, and for one another.
That’s the quiet we keep at Eddrachilles.
