A Rural Housing Crisis

Across Scotland, locals are being priced out and crowded out - but communities are now working hard to address the issue

- MORAG LINDSAY

IT'S the stuff of daytime TV dreams - trading traffic fumes and street lamps for some Scottish seaside or hillside, where the neighbours know your name and the kids still grow up free-range.

Rural living looks alluring when it's viewed through the rosy prism of the property shows.

Ask the residents of rural Scotland, though, and they might well paint a different picture.

Because no one's bragging about living in a borrowed caravan in a farmer's field.

There's nothing idyllic about kipping on acquaintances' sofas because every spare room in your village is in a second home or Airbnb.

And it's no fun trying to do all the things you should be doing in your 20s and 30s when you're stuck at home with your parents - or trying to do all the things you should be doing in your 50s and 60s when your grown-up children still haven't flown the nest.

For a lot of Scots, that's closer to the reality.

And as the Scottish Government declares a national housing emergency, rural-dwellers might be forgiven for asking, "What took you so long?"

Across large sweeps of Scotland, there are simply far too few homes to go round - and too many that are priced beyond the typical worker's pocket.

In a lot of ways it was ever thus. Rural housing is different. Homes tend to be bigger. They're more likely to be detached, and less likely to be starter flats or social housing.

However second homes and the rise of online booking platforms like Airbnb and Booking.com have exacerbated the situation, driving up prices and removing homes that might once have housed teachers, nurses or engineers.

That leaves many locals in cramped or substandard accommodation- and others leaving altogether.

It's why Argyll and Bute declared its own housing emergency last summer - the first Scottish local authority to do so. But the problems are mirrored across the country.