Struy is barely a village in the conventional sense — a scatter of houses along the Strathglass road, a church, and a lot of glen on either side. You won't find a parade of shops or a high street here; what you'll find is forestry, river, and hill, with Beauly the nearest place that feels like a town at all. It draws people who want distance from things rather than proximity to them. There's no useful dataset for Struy itself beyond its location — no crime figures, no house price record, no school or transport detail has come through for this spot, which is itself telling: this is a small enough place that it doesn't generate its own statistics separately from the wider Highland area around it. What we do have is the Scotland-wide picture to set against, for what little it's worth. Nationally, the median age sits at 42.8 and around 79% of people report good health, with roughly a third of workers in management or professional occupations — the kind of figures that describe a broadly rural, ageing-but-comfortable Scotland rather than Struy specifically. It would be guesswork to say how closely the village matches that. What can honestly be said is about the shape of life such a place implies rather than measures. A house here means space, a car, and a relationship with weather and single-track roads that people in cities don't have to think about. Broadband and mobile signal in glens like this can be patchy, healthcare means a drive rather than a walk, and schooling means a bus to somewhere larger. None of that is in the numbers above, but anyone who knows Strathglass would tell you it's the real texture of living there. This suits people who've already decided they want remoteness — hillwalkers, foresters, retirees, those working from home who don't mind a slow connection now and again — over people hoping for the coffee-shop version of village life. Struy rewards those who go looking for the glen itself as the amenity, not for what's built on it.