Baddidarach sits on the coast road above Loch Inver, a scatter of crofts, low white houses and boats pulled up on shingle rather than anything you'd call a settlement centre. It's the kind of place that attracts people who want the sea and the hills more than they want a corner shop, and the streetscape says as much — single-track lanes, gaps of open ground between houses, the sound of gulls doing more work than traffic ever will. There is no local data set fine enough to tell you the crime count on this particular stretch of coast, the school roll, or what a house here actually sells for — Baddidarach is too small to generate its own numbers, and what exists sits at the Scotland-wide level rather than the hamlet level. That absence is itself informative: this is a place below the resolution of most official statistics, which tends to mean a thin resident population, no rail line, and services borrowed from Lochinver or further afield rather than found on the doorstep. What can be said honestly is about Scotland in general rather than Baddidarach in particular — the national picture shows an employment rate a little below three in five, good health reported by close to four in five people, and a median age in the low forties. None of that will tell you much about life on this shoreline, where the rhythms are set by weather and tide more than by any regional average. This suits someone who has already decided they want remoteness and is not looking for the reassurance of nearby amenities, good transport links, or a well-documented property market — those simply are not what this place offers, and no amount of research will produce a number where none exists. If that trade-off unsettles you, it is worth visiting before deciding anything, because the place will tell you more in an afternoon than any data set could.