Songline On Sea

This was the first of two days in Inverness and I spent breakfast wondering what I was going to do. I spent some time persuing the idea of going to Edinburgh to see Jonathan's show on The Fringe only to find that they had finished yesterday and had all gone home. So I got a bus to Fort Augustus around the north side of Loch Ness to find that the summer was also finished. The sun has lost its power here and the nights have drawn in and all of a sudden the leaves are changing colour. So it's all over and I feel now is the time to say goodbye and end the blog accepting that this year's wonderful experience is over and it's time to move on. Thank you to those who have read my blog and taken an interest in my project. Until next April, then, good-bye.

We went for our last walk around some bits of Durness we hadn't seen but basically it was killing time before getting the one bus in the day which goes down the west coast to Ullerpool and then across to Inverness.

John Lennon had been to Durness lots of times as a boy and once with Yoko. There is a memorial garden in his memory with some of his magical words engraved on stone slabs facing a mountain. "There are places I'll remember all my life. All these places have their moments with lovers and friends. In my life I've loved them all." It is difficult to find a way of ending this trip but those words certainly encapsulated a lot of my feelings.

The bus journey was fantastic and went on some of the route south on the west coast which I'll be walking next year. It was a wonderful appetizer. Robert had a sleeper booked to Euston and in the spare hour we had brought his trip up here to a conclusion by having haggis, neeps and tatties, and a pint in the very post Railway Hotel. I noticed in Tiso's sports shop that they are selling three OS maps for the price of two so I know where I shall be tomorrow morning.

What a day! I am sitting back in the hostel in Durness with a man playing a delightful medley of Scottish dances on a mandolin after having finished this year's walk.

At breakfast we still didn't know if we would be able to get back from Cape Wrath because of the weather and that meant what to do about food as we'd almost eaten all we had bar three packets of Smash. We had no need to worry. Walking the last five miles to the Cape from what was our very own bothy for the night, the minibus passed with its first load of tourists which meant the boat was operating and we would get back.

There are mile marker posts to the lighthouse probably for people like me but my footsteps were light in excited anticipation of the end of this 1500 mile leg of the journey. The actual end point is beyond the lighthouse where a huge red foghorn faces out into the Atlantic and below a sheer drop to crashing waves, gannets flying past undeterred by the wind in which we could barely stand. We had some whisky and took photos, which is what most people do except perhaps the Buddist monk who had arrived yesterday from the Isle of Wight, which he did in three months.

I didn't know how I would feel but I know it will take the three days I now have left in Scotland to unwind. The bothy kept coming back into the day as two locals reminded me that a lady had died there from lack of food two years previously and of the crazy Welshman who was arrested earlier this year by six policemen, who had come up once too often and had been the vandal who had reduced the bothy to the sad place it now is and which we had felt, yet it sits in a position which is indescribably beautiful. I am so glad Robert has been here to share all this and to be both witness and companion.

I will keep this blog going for the next three days, which is when I fly out of Inverness and back to Gatwick.

Keirvaig is a bothy just short of Cape Wrath. I am still on schedule to make the finishing point tomorrow though this blog will be late because there is, not surprisingly, no mobile reception here.

We left the hostel at 8:00am to walk the three miles to the ferry. Jim the ferryman did roll up and got 30 of us across the Kyle in his little outboard motor, in three groups. There was an international cast for the crossing but Robert and I were the only walkers. We felt superior walking across the barren moor and on leaving the little road to let the minibus pass, felt the earth move as though the road were floating on the bog, which it was.

The only presence was the absent military, lochens and lochs. We were the only people to arrive down the track that doubled as a riverbed to the bothy where, on reading the visitors' book it was clear had suffered not a little vandalism. Can you believe that in the most remote place in the UK! Shortly after we arrived, James arrived, an architecture student from Dundee who had walked up from Sandwood Bay. He was sadly equipped but quite nice enough to share our food with.

There was a wonderful sunset prior to Robert master-chefing several packets of Norwegian army dried food, which was perfectly acceptable. We were to have read Kafka short stories but the silence dominated and we took to our beds. The scenery here is quite spectacular and we were awestruck by the sunset and sea spray exploding on the rocks. The sunset was probably the best I have seen the whole trip, which is of course helped by the fact that we are now facing west. We are three kindred souls plus brolly in a bothy in the immense silence and remoteness of this location, looking forward to journey's end but five miles away.

Loch Eriboll was a quite wonderful experience. We had a splendid breakfast watching the midges clamouring at the window waiting for us to emerge, but we bided our time and only left when the wind had got up. We didn't get far along the road before coming across the wonderful world of the Danish sculptress Lotte Glob. She lived in a house overlooking the loch which was shortlisted for the Sterling Prize. The loch is where the German navy surrendered at the end of World War II and her garden is littered with carefully placed sculptures. Robert and I were mesmerized and by the end of coffee had both bought pieces we specially liked and which we will look forward to receiving through the post.

The walk then was at least as special as yesterday as we rounded the corner away from the loch towards the beaches of Durness. A couple of lively Spanish gentlemen threw off their clothes and plunged into the turquoise sea. I thought of following them but that's as far as it got. This was fortunate as the weather changed. The wind and rain dominated the last few miles but a rainbow briefly enclosed a scene of divine beauty.

The hostel in Durness is a pair of long huts which are full to overflowing, many like us hoping to get to Cape Wrath tomorrow. The gale is making us all worried that the boat will not be able to take us across the Kyle of Durness and all we can do is get to the pier at 9:30am and see how it is then. The situation is made still more uncertain by the news that the ferryman has assumed that he will not be needed and is on a bender in the pub! Meantime, in the hostel, people talk, play scrabble and read books. Robert is busy organising himself and revising the many options open before catching the sleeper train from Inverness on Monday evening. Last lap.

If anyone is following this on a map, Laid will be found if at all, about seven miles from Durness on the west side of Loch Eriboll, about halfway down. We left Tongue youth hostel just after 10:00am though it felt more like we were being flung out by a warden who is soon to have a nervous breakdown if he continues to consider that those who stay there are the enemy. Robert had gone to the Spa store 12 minutes in the wrong direction for provisions and got far too much stuff but not whisky, so I went after breakfast to get some. I considered it important since we were heading off into the most remote area in the UK and it was 30 miles to the next shop in Durness. We were to camp rough.

There is a causeway across the Kyle of Tongue which is beautiful and I passed the spot where the murderer from Room 10 had perpetrated his crime without realizing it. The scenery that followed and indeed throughout the day, is the best I have had all trip - moorland and mountain, bogs and bays. There was no rain but no sun either. It was clear and still, which made it perfect conditions for midges. We were, as I have said, to have camped out but the weather changed for the worse and the midges literally drove us into the first B&B we came across, which was in the interesting community known as Laid.

Laid is a few houses and crofts dispersed along the single track road. Robert and I are sharing a twin room so we both have earplugs at the ready. Three days to go till journey's end at Cape Wrath.

There was some excitement before leaving Bettyhill and it resulted in me leaving later than planned. I had breakfast with 2 men who tried to leave without paying. One left the table and packed their van whilst the other stayed talking to me till he was ready. I kept him talking a bit longer than perhaps he had wished and by that time Donald had incarnated sufficiently after a good few last night to run out and get their well earned money. This put us into story mode and they told me about several events of people who had stayed one of which I must mention. 11 years ago a man stayed with Mrs. Mackenzie who had committed his third murder in Tongue and was on the run. The story is too long for this blog but he had stayed in room 10 which is where I had slept the last two nights! She had changed everything in the room after the event which had required her to appear in the High Court as a key witness. The offender had subsequently taken his own life whilst in jail. I decided to walk an interesting route off the main road nearer the coast and where in the area around Skerry I could see where people evicted from the areas I saw yesterday had successfully established new crofts by the sea. This involved draining a whole loch to gain farmable land. Some went to live on islands nearby and where they lived till not very long ago. There was thick mist until nearly 2 miles inland by which time I had made contact with Robert and arranged a rendezvous. He had brought cakes from the hostel and I had some whiskey left from the bottle of Glenmorangie which Dilys and Jane had given me. The mist decided to come inland and has stayed the rest of the day. The Youth Hostel in Tongue is newly refurbished though one of the toilets already doesn't work. Robert and I are planning the next 2 days which sees a 30 mile journey to Durness with nothing in between.

I am a day ahead having arranged to meet up with Robert Summerling who is coming up from London tomorrow to walk the last few days from Tongue. This meant I could either stay a day in Bettyhill or Tongue. The weather looked bad this morning so I chose to stay here. This very comfortable B&B is run by Mrs. MacKenzie who used to be the head teacher at the local primary school. What a coincidence having shared the last two days with two head teachers from London! Her son, Donald has been my drinking partner for the two night stay which has been great fun. Staying here gave me a chance to visit the lovely museum they have about the Clearances and the room upstairs entirely devoted to Clan MacKay. The whole of Strath Never wnose river flows into Bettyhill is littered throughout its 21 mile lenght with remains from the people who lived there going way back. The most interesting though for me was to see the whole villages from which the people had been forcibly evicted to make way for sheep which were so much more profitable. I had no car but was kindly picked up by Sian and Paul who were out to see exactly what I was out to see. We spent a lovely afternoon together and the sky completely cleared of clouds. We all got on so well that they offered places for me to sray in Liverpool and the North Wales coast. When we got back to Bettyhill at about 6 o'clock it was back to the grey damp mist in which it had remained all day. The venison hot-pot in the pub was excellent. 'Age' has been atheme today. The young landlord of 27 put my age at 50 which upset Donald who is only 54. Then this morning for the first time I got a concession at the museum where I got in for £1.50 instead of £2.00 for being 60+. Do you have to prove your age in such a situation? Mrs. MacKay could have seen my passport but didn't ask!

I had a strangely worrying night. I needed the bathroom which was close by in my en-suite room but managed to go completely wrong and ended up wandering around the corridor in the dark. As I gradually woke up I realised I hadn't a clue where I was and it was pitch black. I tried lots of doors but they were all locked including my own. On finding a light switch I realised I had no clothes on whatsoever so snatched a red tartan cover off some furniture. What to do? I tried downstairs and found room 3 with a key in it so I slept in there. This made for an amusing breakfast. Our landlord's comment was 'It must've been the barley wine.'. He was most probably right. I waved goodbye to Dilys and Jane in their Skoda which was to take them to Inverness and then to fly back to London. We had a great couple of days and they spoilt me deliciously. It was a long walk today through desolate moorland to Bettyhill and it didn't matter being on the road because there was barely any traffic. The weather forecast was correct and the wind got wilder followed by rain from the north at about 4pm which is when I arrived in bettyhill. I was to camp but the weather got worse so I got a B&B instead where Donald welcomed me. We met again later in the pub and he was pleased to talk about Highgate where he had lived for 13 years. There is just the one pub here which does food and just one shop which is grocer, baker, convienience store, post office and garage. Everyone I meet is very friendly. The barmaid was from the Czeck Republic, the waitress Polish and as in the rest of Sutherland, lots of English. I'm very tired so at 11pm it's into the bath and then bed which is early for me.

Mrs. Ritchie who runs Tigh Na Clash B&B has to be the best yet. She is ahead of the game at all times. During breakfast the beds were made and my dripping top taken to be dried. Then, as she herself was going to church in Reay she was able to give us a lift. The Rev. Paul Reid, a retired teacher/pilot/insurance salesman, delivered a meticulously planned service. Dilys described his sermon as somewhat didactic. I was able to agree after she had told me what it meant. We sang as a trio whilst ten little children sat in the front row doing Sunday School. They were extremely polite and applauded appreciatively. The church is remembered for Rev. Alexander Pope who in 1783 had it rebuilt and devised an intriguing way of getting his flock to attend his services. He covered the chimney of the local pub with a slab of peat thereby smoking them out and insisting they attend his service. We walked out of Caithness into Sutherland where the landscape completely changes from farmland to moorland. We saw a large rock cleft in twain by the devil's tail in an act of anger. It was a road walk but in slendid weather and close to the sea. We picnicked by a peat bog and listened to Dilys reading extracts from her newly aquired geology book. Melvich beach is wonderful. We visited Strathy Point by car where the lighthouse is for sale and there were stunning views.

How extraordinary to watch Match of the Day and see it raining at every game. It rained continuously here from 11am to 10pm. Surfers don't mind about rain, it's only for them wind and waves. I mention that because Thurso is a big surfing centre as are several other points along this coast. I had lunch with one yesterday and breakfast today with another. They all seem to be extraordinarilly good looking. The hostel was seething last night and I found myself having too spend the night with a cross section of the EEC. I heard a snore at a lower pitch than i would have thought humanly possible, I think from a Norwegian. I was woken whilst trying to get to sleep and whilst trying not to wake up which resulted in oversleeping and being woken by a phone call from Jane at 10.10am - we were to have met up at 10.00. Jane and Dilys wanted to walk the coast despite there being no marked path. This turned out well as the cliffs were fabulous and amply compensated for the wind and rain. Once forced away from the cliffs and with our feet completely soaked we could not get to the Forss House Hotel quickly enough. We got a lot of sympathy, excellent facilities, coffe and biscuits all for £5.00. Dill and Jane got a taxi back to get the car from Thurso and called it a day as far as walking was concerned so I plodded on alone to Reay passing the now deactivated Dounreay Powerstation. We had an excellently convivial evening in our B&B and the local pub at Melvich. We are now back in Sutherland and the landscape is becoming more and more bare. The houses and villages further apart and much smaller. Please don't rain tomorrow.

I was up early to see Ruth off at the station. She was great company and we had a great time. Jane and Dilys were flying up from london to Inverness, hiring a car and coming up to join me for two days of walking. They arrived at 6pm so I had the day to do important things like plan ahead for the last two weeks, book hostels, shopping, bank, pnone calls, etc. The highlight was getting a haircut. George, who I'd met in Dunnet had recommended his own barber so I went there. The place was mobbed and I was at the back of a line on 6 men waiting for one of the two lady barbers. There were boys, men, old men, and behind me an oriental gentleman with thick black hair. The man in front of me who giggled a lot and talked without moving his lips didn't seem to need a cut at all so his turn only took a few minutes. So it was me and the oriental gentleman in the frontline together. I said i'd met George who it turns out had been the local policeman. They were curious about me but I wasn't so forthcoming since everyone was listening except to say i was a musician. They were convinced they'd seen me on TV and when i said, 'No, no' they assumed I was being modest and I got very well treated. I remembered the haircut I'd had in Havanna last year amongst loads of animals and birds with kaya watching protectively. The ladies arrived at 6pm and it gave me the chance to take them and see for myself Dunnet Head which is the most northerly point of mainland Britain. The weather was great and it was clear enough for us to get great views of the Pentland Firth, Orkney, and even along to Cape Wrath, my finishing point and which I hope to get to on Sunday week. We had a nice meal together with lots of banter. Dilys and I were in complete disagreement over Darwinism and evolution whilst Jane kept talking about cats at every opportunity. The weather forecast is awful for tomorrow but better for Sunday - let's see.

By the time I got into my tent which meant after shower, foot treatment, etc. the wind was up. If you want to know the weather talk to seamen, they were right. Neither Ruth nor I got more than a couple of hours sleep as the wind got up to 35mph which makes your tent sound like a battleground. We walked the beach for a mile past two dead seals but were forced onto the road and into the hotel in Castletown for a very late breakfast. This was a full Scottish and lasted at least 2 hours but sadly it was still raining. The walk to Thurso became dangerous in the weather conditions so a local farmer picked us up to herd us to Thurso having failed with his cattle who were unherdable against the wind. We arrived at Sandra's Backpacker's Hostel which has the frontage of a fish and chips shop with accomodation for 32 travellers. Thurso is not the place to be in this weather with grey sky, grey buildings, grey atmosphere. The equasion added us both giving up and retiring to our respective dormitories for a late afternoon snooze. The highlight of the day was my daughter, Tamsin phoning to say she had got engaged in Marrakesh. The 'Bourne Ultimatum' was showing in Thurso cinema so we just had to go. Sadly, after having an early supper, walking up a very long hill, queueing to get in, we found that the 88 seats were full which threw us into the bar and onto the bottle. Ruth and I now know each other much better. She leaves early tomorrow morning to continue her exciting life as climber and pioneer of female civil engineering, whilst I look forward to a day off and anticipate the arrival of new company tomorrow in the shape of Jane and Dillys.

The forecast was wrong again but we were not complaining. The scheduled rain never came only strong wind and cold from the northwest. The big event today was turning left and striding out in a westerly direction. I've faced west for periods of time before but only on the journey north, now it's different. After 7 miles we got to the Castle of May which the Queen Mother bought in 1952 for £100 and ressurected. It was her favourite place which she visited for the next 42 summers. What a great place and Charles had opened the visitor's centre only last week. We had already visited her local church at Canisbay which was open and in which I sang as Charles and Camilla had on Sunday. There is a lot of real affection for her all around here and not just because thanks to her running water and electricity became available to the local people. We had clear views all day across the Pentland Firth to Stroma and the Orkney Islands. Late last night I had looked across the firth whilst emptying my hip flaask and had a light show in the low clouds from 5 lighthouses, amazing. Today the sun took over which lit up the Old Man of Hoy in the distance and Dunnet Head which was 6 miles too far off course for us to visit. We had anyway walked 16 miles by the time we got to Dunnet where we pitched our tents. We had arranged to meet George at the church to show us around at 7.30pm. We were not to know he would still be with us at 11.15pm! Ruth is chatting with him as I finish and send this blog off.

The weather was fabulous in contrast to yesterday. The forecast for this area had been the other way round. Wick looked much better in the sun though we spent most of the time breakfasting in Wetherspoons. Ruth finished her Dan Brown novel and immediately donated it to Cancer Research to lighten her load which is rather more than mine. She carries food and a stove from which I had benefitted to the tune of one cup of Earl Grey tea. This was a special day as I was to reach the top north east point of the mainland. Everyone knows and associates John O'Groats with being the top but it isn't, really, It's just the end of the road from which you can take a ferry to Orkney. The most striking thing on getting up the last hill and seeing the top is the view across the Pentland Firth to the now abandoned island of Stroma and the Orkney Islands beyond. All this area belonged to Norway until the 16th century. Jan de Groot was a 15th century Dutchman who helped ships negotiate the firth which is so trecherous because of the Atlantic and the North Sea meeting. We saw the drama clearly on the walk we took to Duncansby Head, it was a flat Atlantic and a very turbuland North Sea. The stacks at Duncansby are dramatic which is surprising since the landscape is quite flat and similar to the Orkney Island landscape. Back at the campsite which was full of Italians being rather loud, we looked anxiously at the black sky coming towards us from the south. A man who had just spoken to his brother in Perth said it was pouring down there. Everyone started jumping and waving at the same time and the Italians disappeared as the midges suddenly appeared. The evening venue is the Seaview Hotel which is where this blog is being written.

It was raining when I got up. Ruth had been up already for 2 and a half hours. But I had an inspiration. Since it was raining and Keiss had nothing to offer why not stay encamped in Wick and get the bus back from Keiss. This we decided to do and it proved a masterstoke. Wetherspoons in Wick will be an everlasting memory as providing hours of comfort, 2 dinners, and 2 breakfasts. A full Scottish breakfast of egg, bacon, sausage meat, beans, mushroom, potato bread and black pudding is £2.10. I sent home a CD containing the next 170 photo prints. It was raining hard as we walked out of Wick and the wind was getting stronger. By the time we got to Prince Harry St. Claires lighthouse and study centre at Noss Head we were both wet and battered. That was the worst of the weather as it got then slowly better. En route along a path marked on the map but not evident under foot we bumped into a small herd of youngish black bullocks who reacted in a somewhat suprising manner. They panicked on seeing us and dispersed chaotically leaving two large holes in a perfectly good stone wall and dislodging barbed wire. The farmer will be non too pleased. Passed the impressive private country castle of Ackergill Tower now a place for the super rich we were on a wonderful beach until a river crossing. Ruth insisted we walk round which took 45 minutes and introduced us to a golf course, a flock of sheep, and a Subsea Oil Pipeline construction plant. It seemed very quiet and we were almost through back onto the sand dunes when a security guard caught us in his landrover and forced us off site onto the farmers land. Keiss had a lovely harbour but little else. On the bus back to Wick I was able to see the new talk of the county Tescos. It's really not very big and its difficult to see what all the fuss is about. A fresh injection such as this an outsider would consider an improvement. The weather forecast is grim which will sadly obscure any night time meteor showers which are due for the next 2 weeks.

Kaya left on an early bus to Inverness to fly back to Gatwick taking with her a few objects like heavy sandals which I'm going to do without. John took me to the Free Church of Scotland in Lybster in time for the 11am service. The minister was very sweet and made a big fuss of me and in his prayers publicly thanked the Lord for bringing me to them. The schools in Caithness start on Tuesday of this week. They broke up at the end of June. Traditionally, apparently the weather improves when the school start but the forecast says OK Monday, then nasty storms. I had a long road walk today, just me and Brolly who had to be on duty twice. I'm not using her as a walking stick quite so much since she's been back. The road walk was mostly flat but the countryside was full of remains from earlier populations. The highlight was at Whaligoe Harbour accessible down by 365 steps up which the fish-wives had to carry the full baskets of herring. The men also winched whales up the cliff to sell in Wick. There are several such harbours up here but to get to them cannot be part of a days walk such as the 15 miles I had to do today. Two people offered me lifts to Wick which I declined. Ruth who is joining me for a few days got to Wick by 3 o'clock from Orkney. At that point I was still 10 miles away so it gave me good reason to get into businesslike walking mode. The sun came out so by the time I met Ruth at the campsite I was antisocially sweaty for our warm greeting. Weatherspoons was the order of the evening. All the talk in Wick is of the new Tesco supermarket which opened not long ago. It is being accused of killing off the local shopkeepers and cluttering the roads with home delivery vans and lorries. Thanks to Liz for doing the blog for the last 17 days.

I was reunited with brolly who had been sent up to Helmsdale from Cambridge referruled. She was required to perform her duties before the day's walk was out and is clearly happy to be back on duty.

We had wanted to visit the supposedly excellent Times Span museum which tells of the 1890s goldrush and all about the clearances but it was closed for refurbishment, which seems a bit silly over the holiday season. There were a couple of miles of coastal walking out of Helmsdale but the rest was on the A9. The road rose up and up around hairpin bends as we walked out of Sutherland and into Caithness. The scenery was huge and magnificent and at first it didn't matter having some light rain but it got worse. We stopped to have lunch but the midges leapt into action so the stop was only as long as it took us to cover ourselves in Avon Skin So Soft, which we can now testify does work.

We went off route for a visit to a Highland clearance village down by the sea where people evicted from the glens and straths had come in 1802 to try their luck at fishing. The small community survived in this remote spot for about 100 years but it must have been touch and go, and it was completely abandoned.

We met two young lads walking the other way with packs weighing over 20 kilos. They were doing a charity walk starting in Oban and going clockwise round to Inverness through the Great Glen and finishing in Fort William, but only walking on roads. They had had a tough time.

We are staying tonight with John, who we had met two days ago before Helmsdale. He and his wife Pauline have a wonderful house with a huge view over the sea. They are English, like an awful lot of people in these parts. It is getting very remote now, which means things like shops and eating places are far apart and forward planning essential. John has to travel 20 miles almost just to get petrol.

We were to have a day off tomorrow but took it today as Helmsdale is more interesting. Sadly, we had to change B&B. We changed house, settled up and got to Helmsdale station for a carefully planned day.

We took the train to Thurso so that Kaya could see the north coast of Scotland albeit for only a couple of hours and then stopped on the way back to look at some inland scenery. As we rose upwards in the two-carriage train into Caithness, it reminded us both of our trans-Siberian rail journey. The first part was grassland and reminded us of Mongolia, then up higher there was boggy open moorland, which could have been Siberia. Thurso was not desperately interesting except to see there was probably the last hairdresser before Cape Wrath so I may well take advantage when I get there again next Thursday.

On the return journey we had to ask for the train to stop at Kildonan, which was a request stop. That in itself was memorable but as we stepped off the train we walked into history. This was an area where the people had been forcibly removed and replaced by sheep. There are ghosts here and we were moved as we walked about the remains of old crofts now almost entirely covered by grass, moss and heather. There was also a goldrush here, that is to say the stream still flows and there was a man panning away. He said he'd found two pieces of gold so far about the size of fullstops. To catch the train we had to be at the station, which was more like a bus stop, in good time. The train was a little late which, since we were being attacked by midges, was unfortunate. I've been carrying Avon Skin So Soft, as recommended against midge attack, in my rucksack since Edinburgh, but the rucksack was having a day off in Helmsdale! Stopping a train by jumping about partly in joy at its arrival and partly in a war dance against midges must have looked faintly amusing.

Back in Helmsdale we visited an enormous sculpture called The Evacuation beside the A9. It was unveiled by Alex Salmand only two weeks ago and shows a family leaving Scotland during the clearances, the man and his son looking out to sea, the woman holding a baby, looking back up the glen they were leaving. Alex Salmand and Prince Charles are the two men who keep popping up in these parts. Charles and Camilla were returning from Castle Mey last week and stopped to see what was going on as a crowd of people gathered round a washing line full of bras. They were raising money for breast cancer research so Charles gave £20 and Camilla £10. His entourage were highly amused.

These are not places you will have heard of possibly. Golspie is not an old village. It only grew as a result of the Highland clearances and was populated by those who stayed to take up fishing whilst most went to America and Canada. The bad feeling still lives on against the Duke of Sutherland, who either let it happen or ordered it. It coincided with him building the most enormous Dunrobin Castle which is two miles north of Golspie. It looks like a huge French chateau and the gardens are a miniature version of Versailles. We arrived in time for the falconry show, which was stunning. It did not quite go according to plan as the eagle owl spotted a group of buzzards circling overhead, so he was by his nature, obliged to watch them and refused to perform for us. There was lots to see in the house as well but we were disgusted at all the Victorian trophies in the museum, which included the neck of a giraffe and a rubbish bin made from the foot of an elephant.

We walked to Brora substantially along the beach. The sun shone again and it was great to be able to walk on the beach again, which hadn't been possible for more than a week. I rang my mother to check she was recovering from her second new hip operation two days ago. She is 86 and is determined to go on a walking holiday in North Wales in October. She never thought I would make it as far as I have.

As we were eating a late lunch at 5.00pm by a bus stop, a man approached us from his silver 4 x 4. We thought he was going to request us to move or something but no, he asked us where we were going. We told him and he then forced us into his car and thereby saved us from a few miles on the very dangerous A9. Thank you, John. We may see him again as his wife runs a B&B 22 miles up the road. The B&Bs seem to get better and better as we go north. The landladies take their jobs very seriously, nothing is too much trouble and they are extremely helpful. Here in Helmsdale, where we had fish and chips, they are big Princess Diana fans. She used to come in to eat when visiting her sister, who is married to a landowner up the River Helmsdale.

Our landlord gave us each a book he had published of amusing articles he had collected. He had clearly fallen for Kaya, who he described as a lovely lady in his author's message. Besides the table tennis, he had spent his working life working around Concord in Bristol, where he was a senior shop steward.

Dornoch was fascinating and useful to walk around. I sang in the cathedral where Madonna had her children christened and all the Dukes of Sutherland are buried. Andrew Carnegie is big around here having built Skibo Castle for himself to visit each year and his name is on many of the public buildings.

I asked a man if he was local before asking him how to get into the cathedral to which he replied that he was and that he had driven buses for 43 years and and and. This was good news as he had in the boot of his car all the bus timetables needed to find out how Kaya was to get back to Inverness on Sunday.

The day was not only sunny but hot so out came the sun cream. I'm still using the same tube that I set off with four months ago, which says something about the weather. The walk out of Dornoch and around the last estuary on this coast, Loch Fleet, was the best walk, landscape and weather that Kaya has had since she joined me on July 26th. A highlight was seeing a farmer in his jeep shepherding his sheep, shouting instructions in Gaelic to his dog over which he had total control. We saw lots of seals enjoying the sun on a sandbar. We cut short our walk, which had already been 13 miles to Golspie, so that we can visit Dunrobin Castle, the home of the Duchess of Sutherland, in the morning.

We enjoyed Tain and especially Brown's art gallery, a glassware studio and Tain silver shop in which I bought my first Christmas present. I bought my favourite newspaper, The Press & Journal, especially to see the pictures and read about the disaster in Pennan where I had stayed two weeks ago. There was an aerial photo of my friends Shona and Alex's house with the patch next door behind the village hall where I had camped, which was covered in a deluge of mud which had fallen down the 300 ft cliffs. That was rather chilling to see and needed a coffee and yet another cake to digest what might have been, but fortunately wasn't.

On the way out of Tain we passed the fields which will, on Thursday, be full of the local Highland games. The land is part of the 650 acre estate owned by the Glenmorangie whiskey distillery, which they purchased to safeguard their underground water supply. Since the distillery was beside the road we were walking, of course we called in for a tour and saw some of the 16 Men of Tain who make the wonderful whiskey. There was a devastatingly strong wind blowing in from the west buffeting us as we wobbled across the Dornoch Firth bridge. It was the wind and not the whiskey which made staying upright difficult and walking in a straight line impossible. Turning right towards Dornoch therefore meant the wind was behind us, which made the last five miles a breeze!

The sun came out as we entered Dornoch but there were vast puddles in the fields so I easily gave in to Kaya's wish to find B&B. We had been very close to Skibo Castle where Madonna and Guy had got married but we were content with a delightful house in town, which is the home of a once champion table tennis player who showed us his trophy cabinet within 10 minutes of our arrival. For £20 we have a four poster bed with white lace curtains. Dornoch has a cathedral and the second oldest golf course in the world so we shall see those tomorrow before a few miles of beach walking as we continue north. We are now in Sutherland.

The weather forecast was unfortunately correct. Looking out of our lodging windows the rain came down hard beneath a solid grey sky. We did the few remaining things to do in Cromarty, like visit the famous East Church and get provisions but then we had to continue our journey.

We managed to miss a ferry across the Firth to Nigg but this was the beginning of some good fortune. The ferry that we did get had just two people besides ourselves on the 15-minute crossing and they had a four-seater car. We were forced into the car on arrival in Nigg, which is the traditional boundary of the Highland region and where they would have all spoken Gaelic in the past. Our saboteurs were fortunately interested in visiting the church at Nigg where there stands a very impressive Pictish stone, before driving through the pouring rain to Tain. Kaya asked if I would have walked today had she not been here, which was hard to answer. I would probably have walked some or most of it but certainly not all as the rain continued and the last part was along the A9, which we are now to follow up to the north of Scotland.

Our luck continued as the first place we stopped at in Tain had one spare room. We now had time to explore Tain, which is a lovely little town with a rich history and a good deal of active arts and crafts going on. We got a free glass of wine on entering the church where there was live music and we had happened upon the opening of an exhibition about the local school. This was a big pilgrimage spot, the saint being St Duthus, and captured pilgrims on route south, many of them on their way to Whithorn. In the museum I had a shot with what they presented as a pilgrim's staff. It was enormous and very heavy with a metal prong at the bottom. It was more akin to my VMF songline staff in fact.

The weather has improved a little so hopefully we can get walking again and get to Dornoch tomorrow, which lies across the next and last Firth before the north coast.

This Sunday we went to two church services thanks to the Church of Scotland not starting till 11.30 am. It gave us a chance to catch the end of the Episcopalian service which was attended by four people standing in a semi-circle singing the last hymn without accompaniment. One of the four was the vicar's wife, who showed us some nice windows by Sir Ninian Compton.

There was more going on at the Church of Scotland. As last week in Lossiemouth, the minister addressed the children first. Young Jimmy, aged 8 or so, was unfortunately sitting in the front row and found himself loomed over at close quarters by a serious looking minister wearing a microphone contraption round his head and, with the help of his huge hands, carved this question in the air before him. "What does this sentence mean to you, Jimmy? The Holy Spirit will make it clear to you." The Holy Spirit did not help Jimmy so the minister gave him a powerful torch and someone's wedding photo. Jimmy was ordered to shine the torch on the photo. I am sure by then Jimmy had the answer but the minister chose to ask someone else! Poor Jimmy.

Hugh Millar was once a boy in Cromarty at the start of the 19th century and rose from being a local stonemason, to bank clerk, to editor of The Witness, an Edinburgh based broadsheet, which was read throughout the Empire. What power Hugh therefore had, amongst other things in supporting the ministers who left the Church of Scotland to start the Free Church of Scotland. He is Cromarty's most famous son.

We had a delicious locally reared roast beef lunch. The wind was completely gone but was replaced with drizzling grey clouds. No dolphins appeared before us. There is live music in the pub tonight and it is nice to see these locals reclaiming their territory now the bikers have left. And so to bed. I hope Jimmy sleeps okay after his ordeal this morning.

Life on the edge was just a little eventful last night. After dictating the blog to Liz, the wind started to pick up. By the time we crawled into the tent it was blustery and then soon to gale force. Kaya asked for earplugs which I had at the ready for gale force snoring in hostels. At 3 o'clock I was worried enough to go and look outside to find the sea had turned white and our next door neighbour had packed away his ridiculously large tent and gone. My little tent was doing very well so I felt confident it would survive the night, which it did and I was happy in the end that it had this rather severe test.

The wind was still strong in the morning but with wonderfully sunny skies, which continued throughout the day. We had a slow morning and spent some time in Rosemarkie having coffee at last and then visiting a charming and informative little museum which told us a lot about the Picts, who inhabited this area and left some useful stone carvings.

The ten mile road walk to Cromarty over rich Black Isle farmland and through forests was very tough as we were tired from last night. We had found accommodation in Cromarty from a tourist book at coffee. The Cromarty Arms had a room for us tomorrow but we could camp out the back tonight as they were full. However, when we arrived we found they did have a room after all as a family had left rather suddenly. Was this perhaps because there was a bikers' rally in the town for the weekend and, with only two pubs, it had been too lively? We were, however, delighted to take the room and at £20 for B&B, even better. The bikers have been fine. They know how to have fun and although every sentence contains the name of some motorbike, they clearly enjoy each other's company. One could say we were unlucky to visit quiet quaint Georgian Cromarty on its busiest and noisiest weekend of the year but I am always intrigued at what fortune sends my way. I would never under normal circumstances choose to go to a bikers' rally but I am very glad to have met this event on my journey. I seem to have just missed lots of events. The baby minkhe whale that spent three days in Fraserburgh harbour until yesterday, the Nairn jazz festival started today and we just missed the Black Isle agricultural show which was on Thursday, but I am not here to go to those things unless they cross my path. Day off tomorrow.

We had thought of taking a boat trip up Loch Ness but eventually decided it was not part of this trip and spent the morning in the town seeing what we could and making the most of what it offers. This is the last major place before going off into ever remoter areas. This is the tourist centre for the Highlands region and was the gathering point for the Jacobite clans supporting Bonnie Prince Charlie and who were so devastated at Culloden in 1745, which is just out of town.

We left town and passed Inverness Caledonian Thistle football ground who start the season here against Rangers tomorrow. We just had to tell Dilys who strangely supports them from a distance in Hampstead and sent a photo message via mobile to her lying on the beach in Greece. As a reward for this act of commitment we saw dolphins as we crossed the bridge onto the Black Isle. Why is it called the Black Isle? I won't spell out the explanations I've heard because basically, no-one knows.

It was all road walking today so we kept concentrating on the traffic and may therefore have missed lots of red kite, but did spot one buzzard. We arrived in Fortrose to find a lovely town with everything you could possibly need, including a ruined cathedral and a wonderful restaurant where Kaya bravely ordered oxtail. It was fantastic and worth a shot if you have never had it. We had already pitched the tent in a fabulous spot right by the water's edge with a quite magnificent view down the Moray Firth towards Inverness with the mountains beyond. It is grey but no rain as yet and a mild temperature for Kaya's first night under canvass since VMF days. The tent is by far the smallest object on the site and we are adjacent to an enormous white military truck with a German family on board. Across the water, less than a mile away, is where we stayed two nights ago!

Paul, a middle aged old Etonian and his very Scottish partner Isobel, made an unusual couple but they cooked up a great breakfast between them including fried potato scones.

There were two lovely moments on the otherwise tedious road walk which followed the coast past Inverness airport where Kaya had arrived a week ago. The first was a tractor with a long cage in front of it and one behind. I thought I saw people lying down in the front and moving about and I have to say I thought of illegal immigrants but the tractor was moving very slowly forward. I asked a blond Polish girl what was going on and she said that they were weeding the organic carrot crop. There were 12 in front and 12 behind all lying on their tummies weeding for two hours at a time for a ten-hour day. They were Russian, Polish, Bulgarian, Romanian and Ukranian, who did this for two months after which they go back home rich or pay to get themselves through university. They are paid £5.35 per hour.

The second was a very splendid Castle Stuart, built in 1625. At the entrance it said "Strictly Private" then alongside it advertised accommodation. An electrician was working nearby so I asked him if we coulde peep at the castle. He said we should ask Mr Stuart standing nearby. He was very white, looked like he was born about 1625 and couldn't see much. I asked him what the charge was for B&B and he said "We don't do business on the roadside", which I thought was pretty classy!

The last few miles were on the A96 into Inverness which without a pavement was hell and rather dangerous, so we got a bus. This bought us time to look around Inverness as I had fortunately prebooked a double room at Bazpackers Hostel. I had not been to Inverness before, unless my parents brought me when I was very young on a camping holiday. What a great place. It has a very international feel, an impressive fastflowing river, pink sandstone buildings, art and culture and a cathedral that was open and asking to be sung in. Eden Court Theatre was sadly closed for refurbishment but they had invited a lorry which opens out into a cinema and usually tours the highlands and islands to show films. There weren't many of the 60 seats filled at 6.00pm to watch The Chumbreakers, which the projectionist said wasn't much good but we really enjoyed, all the more perhaps since our expectations were not high.

Jimmy Chungs has been an excellent riverside Chinese buffet beside the River Ness where you can eat as much as you like for £9.99. We are both stuffed as are many others who have passed this way.

It's cheaper having two people sharing a room for B&B. I had a Scottish breakfast which is all the usual but with haggis included.

Nairn is a lovely town. It has two distinct parts - the fishing end called Fishertown and the Victorian end which was developed as a holiday spa attracting, amongst others, Charlie Chaplin to come every year. We had a tiny B&B room on the edge of Fishertown whereas he booked a whole floor for the summer at one of the fine hotels. It has two fine golf courses, two sandy beaches and wonderful views across to Cromarty and the Black Isles. We converted a park bench into an office where I made arrangements for brolly to be sent back up for me to intercept next week and Kaya phoned her shop in East Grinstead.

Except for the first two miles, mostly along the beach, the walk was on ever quieter roads. We passed a village called Upper Carse but some of the letters had been removed so it spelt Up er arse! The weather was sunny intervals with a fresh breeze which reduced whilst walking through a lot of forest. It was a military day. We marched along straight roads and on nearing Fort George there were firing ranges. It was 4.00pm by the time we arrived at the fort and longing for some food. Fort George is huge and still in active service as a barracks but some parts are open to tourists and in the care of Historic Scotland. The ticket office would not look after our rucksacks and the security officer told us he wouldn't either and neither could we take them in. The management got involved in the Catch 22 situation and in the end we could take in the packs. On the way in, the security man insisted on checking my pack but didn't loook at Kaya's at all! On the way out he said, "Goodbye sir" to me and nothing to Kaya. We have decided therefore that Kaya would make a much better terrorist than me!

The fort is impressive in many ways but mostly because of its aspect. The front part is in a magnificent position to see bottle-nosed dolphins. We looked over the ramparts and saw a boat full of tourists also looking for dolphins but neither they nor us saw anything except wonderful views and the sun's early evening light show upon the water. I had booked B&B in Ardersier before leaving East Grinstead.