A hike, a swim, then a full-on rave: is this Britain's most remote club night?

The Guardian

17-03-2025

It's late on a Saturday night in the tiny Scottish fishing village of Ullapool, well past 1am, and bass is pulsing out into the otherwise quiet streets from a quaking function room. This is Baile/Baile, possibly the most remote regular club night in the UK.
Located about 60 miles northwest of Inverness, and the same distance from the very top of Scotland, Ullapool has long been an important hub for the surrounding villages. Despite only having a population of around 1,500, it has plenty of art studios, cafes, galleries and a museum. Plus, it's home to a highly regarded school for traditional arts and Gaelic language. There's an annual book festival and, from 2005 to 2019, there was a two-day music festival called Loopallu, headlined over the years by Mumford & Sons, Franz Ferdinand and Idlewild. The village is packed over summer thanks to the North Coast 500, a 516-mile scenic driving route around the northern peripheries of Scotland.
Ullapool has a history of dance culture, too. In the 1990s, a crew threw DIY raves in the area but, with funding cuts and an ageing population, Sigi Whittle, the co-founder of Baile/Baile who grew up locally, felt it was his turn to inject some life. 'I was getting frustrated that things were tapering off,' he says. 'There was a gap in the market and I wanted to give something back.'
Launched in November 2023 by 28-year-old Whittle and his friend Jemima Fasakin, Baile means village in Gaelic and dance in Spanish. It brings established UK artists to the Highlands while giving much-needed opportunities to local DJs. During winter, Ullapool locks down, braced for the brutal weather, so Whittle and Fasakin (a Londoner living in Glasgow) decided to host their night from November to March. 'The tourists leave,' Whittle says, 'and the only people left are the people living in the village.'
It's not just tourists who leave: the Highlands have a hard time retaining their youth. Cultural resources get funnelled to the cities, so young people like Whittle usually move out when they turn 18. He now lives in Edinburgh, where he works as a trainee architect, but his mum still lives in Ullapool. She often allows visiting DJs to sleep at her house.
The Baile/Baile venue, a family-run motel and function room called the Ceilidh Place, usually hosts traditional Gaelic music events, but tonight the 100-capacity space has transformed into a nightclub. Bouncer Alan Nutu, a local, is on security with hotel manager and sound engineer Gary Craig on lights and smoke machine. 'We've had amazing DJs,' says the later. 'People coming up from down south, wondering why they've never been here. It's all been really positive.'
Ken McDonald (Dulcey to his friends) has dusted off the sound system he used for throwing raves in the 90s, while Whittle and Fasakin have hired decks from a club crew in Inverness. On the lineup are DADs, the Newcastle-based breaks and UK garage duo, plus Stevie Cox and Telford, house DJs and residents at Glasgow's Sub Club.
This is the last event of the season and by 9.30pm the venue's already filling up. Young men in bucket hats and sunglasses punch the air as Whittle (DJ Cablecar) and Fasakin (Jemima from the Bible) play their bass-heavy opening set. It's a mixed crowd, with fresh-faced 18-year-olds dancing alongside folk in their 60s. About half are local, the other half having travelled from Glasgow, Edinburgh and London.
By 11pm, the venue's at capacity and the energy is sky-high. The crowd's locked in – there's nowhere else to be tonight – and they dance unselfconsciously to DADs' break-filled selection, a far cry from inner-city club standards. When Stevie Cox and Telford play their opening house track, a woman wearing LED-flashing trainers does a little dance routine next to the decks.
Joseph Marsh has attended every Baile/Baile since its inception. 'It's brilliant for the community,' says the 24-year-old, whose parents used to attend Dulcey's raves in the 90s. 'I've grown up here and there's been nothing. I just wish it happened more often.'
They've done such a good job, they've had to book an entire hostel to host people who travelled up for the weekend. On Friday night, about 50 revellers descend on Ullapool, packing out the nearby pub and emptying the chippy of haddock.
On Saturday, ravers hike up Meall Mhor, or Ullapool Hill, for panoramic views, while a few brave souls even go swimming. 'It's nice,' says Fasakin, 'to have wholesomeness built into the weekend.'
Saturday night is Baile/Baile and by 2am Stevie Cox and Telford are wrapping up their set with a techno banger. The venue is still at capacity, the punters packed in like sardines, and Whittle holds up the strobe light while Craig goes nuts with the smoke machine. When the music fades out, the crowd bursts into applause. Alan the bouncer thanks everyone as they file past, wishing them a safe journey home as they disperse into the silent village streets.
Follow Baile/Baile on Instagram for updates on events.