John o’ Groats Trail Day 2.
Distance today: 19.4 miles.
Total distance: 40.1 miles.
Accommodation: wild camping.
I survived! I even had a reasonable sleep. One distinct advantage of wild camping is having an efficient start to the morning so as to avoid having to explain anything to anyone. I think I was on the trail by about 7. By 8 I had walked around the coast as far as castle Sinclair Girinigoe. I think my phone took a reasonable photo but even that doesn’t really capture the atmosphere and the drama undeniably enhanced by a moody sky and having the place to myself. Very special and just a few pangs of regret that I didn’t have my ‘proper’ camera with me.
When they say coastal path, they really do mean coastal. On many occasions there was very little between me and a sheer drop down the side of a cliff. Relatively speaking the trail is still quite new and I think further discussions may be required with the landowners to see if they can spare a couple more yards. Indeed, on some occasions not only were there barbed-wire topped fences but just in case you were confused by the suicidal cliff-top paths, there were also signs to remind you that yes, you were meant to walk outside the fence so don’t even think about taking shortcuts inland. Part of me would like to think that it was out of a sense of benevolence that the farmers were simply reminding us that we had chosen a coastal path and we would only be letting ourselves down if we didn’t stick to it. I somehow doubt it. Still, when you weren’t worrying about falling to your death, the views continued to be spectacular. Battalions of sea birds colonized the cliff sides while the air was filled with squawks and the pungent after-effects of thousands of fish dinners.
My mid-morning stopover was in Wick. After a quick scout around town, Wetherspoons seemed to be my best option for re-fueling. Treated myself to a full Scottish breakfast and a bottomless cup of tea while I sat in a corner, recharging my phone, doing some Instagram stuff and generally enjoying having a breather. When the locals started arriving and hitting the beers, the noise levels definitely increased, signalling that it was probably time for me to move on.
Carried on walking along the coast until I eventually reached the Whaligoe Steps. A natural harbour had been made accessible by 300+ steep steps zig-zagging their way down from the cliff tops. Was it worth the effort going to the bottom given I that I was carrying a full pack? Probably not. But I am a completist and so didnt really have much option. There were photo opportunities to be had, I just didn’t find them.
I was pretty knackered by now. 19 miles is a reasonable distance on flat tarmac and I certainly haven’t seen much of that on the trail so far. I ended up camping in a field about a mile further on from the steps. No animals around and there was a stone wall to protect from me the south-westerlies. 5 minutes after pitching the tent, the wind suddenly whipped up from somewhere and when I took a peek outside, I now found myself in a field full of sheep. Where had they been hiding?! Thinking that I was likely to be up to deal with either a collapsed tent or an angry farmer, I just slept in my clothes. I really do need to suss this wild camping thing.
