As I awoke on the beach at Murkle Bay on the north coast of Scotland, I still had a way to go before I would even reach my start point of John o’Groats. First I wanted to visit Dunnet Head – which includes Easter Head, the most northerly point of mainland Britain.
Wednesday 20th July 2016
Walked on road to Castletown. Flagstone museum was shut in morning. Old boats by old flagstone works. Next along beach to Dunnet – then onto Dunnet Head. Much larger than expected. Hoped for a cafe at lighthouse, but no, so carried on. Dunnet Head – Done it! No views due to cloud.
I forgot to mention the thunder storm on the way to the lighthouse. I was fairly high up and the lightning was pretty close. I had to crouch down in a ditch for about half an hour in pouring rain to wait for it to pass.
Long and tiring walk through clusters of housing (no shops etc).
This is when I first became conscious of where I was: Caithness. Until that point I was only aware that I was in the far north of Scotland. The historic county of Caithness, although part of Scotland, has a unique history of Norse influence – it was once a disputed territory between Norway and Scotland. The locals seem proud of their heritage and fly the flag of Caithness at least as much as the Scottish flag.
Arrived at forest I had seen on map, but struggled to get in. On my first attempt, I encountered a skeleton (presumably sheep, not person) and decided to turn back due to stream and spiky bushes. Tried field, opposite – but no decent surface. Found a way into the forest further along, slept in bug net without rain cover.
Spending: £0
Distance: 22.6 miles [view on map]
Mood: 😐
Yes you read that correctly, on only my second day of walking I discovered a skeleton. A fucking skeleton.
The forest I slept in that night was not so pleasant. Although the trees were living, the forest felt dead. The trees were so close together it was impossible to walk through without climbing over branches. Between each line of trees was a drainage ditch full of orange gunge. I slept between two such ditches. Usually when sleeping in forests I am aware of life all around, although I can’t see it. Perhaps a deer, a fox, or an owl. But this forest was silent. I later learnt that forests such as this in area were considered controversial: the land was not suited to forestry but forests were planted in the 1980s nonetheless as a result of poorly devised tax breaks. The forest did however provide me with somewhere to sleep, which would have been tricky anywhere else since the natural habitat in that area is almost entirely bog.