OSGB GRID REF. ND130594. HALKIRK

I GO, BUT THE SANDALS STAY

DUNNET HEAD LIGHTHOUSE AND FOGHORN

HAROLD'S (WONKY) TOWER, THURSO

A burst water main meant that I was unable to shower on the morning of Wednesday 15. Fortunately, I'd taken one the previous evening and also left enough water in the kettle for a cup of coffee. The B&B's Full English was consumed with ample milk and orange juice before I hauled my heavily-laden rucksack down to John o'Groats harbour for the traditional photo-session in front of the milepost. The photographer was absent when I got there so a young lad named Angus took one of me in front of the alternative sign on the slipway wall. I also symbolically disposed of the tatty sandals that I worn on the journey up.

Heading west, the trek towards Dunnet Head involved lots of rather dull tarmac trudging, although a refreshment stop at 'The Tea Cozy' in Mey represented a pleasant interlude, with other cafe customers expressing interest in my trek having seen the banner on my rucksack (thanks for making that, Rosemary).

The weather was warm and there was no rain, but visibility was poor, so I didn't bother with the extra climb to the viewing point when reached Dunnet Head Lighthouse at the most northerly point of mainland Britain. Satisfied at reaching my main goal of the day, I retreated south cross-county over the 'Moss of Dunnet' to Dunnet village. A 12-year old Highland Park whisky served by the very amiable Gemma at the Northern Sands Hotel put me in the mood for sleep, so I headed for the beach to camp amongst the dunes where I drifted off to the sound of gently crashing waves.

Whilst packing my gear in the morning, a lady dog walker who had seen me on the road to Dunnet the previous day invited me to illicitly use the facilities of the nearby caravan site where she and her husband were staying. Bette and Derek made sure I had some tea and toast in me before I continued my waterside walk to Thurso. From there, it was south on the B874 to Halkirk, dodging the oncoming cars as I walked in the gutter.

I imbibed at Halkirk's 'Top Bar', after which Publican Mick kindly invited me to erect my tent in his garden.

Tomorrow I head towards Glutt Lodge and the remote and boggy Flow Country, where communications are likely to be difficult!