From Keiss Castle I followed the coast south, then headed inland.
Friday 22nd July 2016
I was woken early by a procession of cows. They were typically curious, one even came down to see me, appearing behind me like a ninja as I packed my stuff up. I started walking along the shore, past Keiss, along a sandy beach, and through dunes, followed by some road walking.
Next I had to cross the Moss of Killimster. A “moss” is ground covered mostly in moss. Moss is mostly water, so it was more like one big pond. A very boggy peat bog. At first I tried to avoid wet feet, then gave up and accepted that I might have water up to my knees. At one point I was almost up to my waist – I fell forwards and grabbed grass to pull me out.
My journal entry does not fully express what a terrifying experience this was. It took about 3 hours to cross 2 kilometers of bog. The whole time, I could see the forest I was heading for ahead, but it never seemed to get any closer. I had to find a bridge made of a single plank of wood in order to cross a river. I then tried to follow the course of this river (the banks were the dryest land around) but the overgrowth was too dense, so I had to walk further away from the river where the land was softer – most of the time it was like wading through a pond. Then I had to jump over another river without any bridge whatsoever, by finding a section with a small island I could step on. This was an experience I will never forget, and since I lived through it I do not regret, but I would never repeat – I would take the long way round on the road.
Later I met an old Scottish angler by a river – I could barely understand him but was so happy to see another human being after what felt like a near death experience!
After that I spent night in The Brown Trout.
Distance: 13.8 miles [view on map]
Spending: £63
Mood: 🙂 -> 🙁 -> 🙂
I stayed the night in The Brown Trout Hotel in the village of Watten. The name Watten comes from Old Norse for “water”. The village is popular for brown trout fishing on the river nearby and on Loch Watten (“Loch” is a Scottish term for a body of water so the name “Loch Watten” is made up of two words for “water” from different languages!).
The only other residents at the Brown Trout were anglers. The fishing wasn’t as good as it once was, they told me. The hotel bar had a fantastic atmosphere, upon entering I was not just entering a bar but also a conversation. Word had clearly already gotten around that a hiker had turned up. The dinner menu at the Brown Trout, like the decor, seemed to have been devised in the 1980s: the only veggie option was a vegetable cannelloni with chips, which might have been sitting in the freezer since the ’80s too. I found this was fairly typical for Scotland north of Fort William. Compared to my usual cous cous, the limited options were still a luxury, and I could never complain about portion sizes!
That is really frightening! I remember feeling somewhat anxious (from the comfort of home) at this early stage of your journey; then reassured to receive a text saying you were staying at the Brown Trout, which sounded picturesque and comforting. But at this point you didn’t tell us about the real dangers!
Yes, I was only able to make contact from the comfortable places!
Also you told us later how essential a walking pole was for testing out the bog, before you put your body weight on it.
Yes very good point, I think I’d have had to turn back without a pole!