We left Durness early in the morning and made our way back south towards Inverness, where the girls were to leave Rach and me and catch a coach back home to Edinburgh. So this time we didn't go along the coast but right through the heart of the Highlands, along nameless lochs of outstanding beauty and serene remoteness. I was so delighted I stopped the car every once in a while just to take 1)a picture and 2)in the charm of this country. I really felt like my own dad for doing this and I remember how annoyed I was of this habit of his when I was a child. But I guess we're all just getting older. (By the way, looking through the photos, Pav sceptically remarked: "You're quite into landscapes, aren't ya?" Yes, I am, son; just grow a little older and you will be, too.)
Flying along the SINGLE TRACK ROAD!!!, my only worry was the Tanknadel that wouldn't stop racing towards that merciless red square und find ma ne Tanke in the middle of the Highlands. We finally reached something like a town, refuelled the car and sent the girls to the loo. It was after that tragic stop that I hit the curb and damaged our poor beloved noble jeans-coloured steed... dammit, shite, fuckinsakeaaaarrrghhhh!
We reached Inverness in the early afternoon. Inverness, Capital of the Highlands, Nessies own hood and home to the place where we had a rather shabby meal and did some food-shopping (Hob Nobs, Hob Nobs, Hob Nobs!!!!). Actually when we first had been in Inverness on Saturday, we went straight for the afeway (the S had fallen off) but were soon to find out why it looked so huge but really come down; it was closed. When we reached the carpark this time, the afeway had already turned into a feway, but it was good enough to park the car there.
After wishing Tattie and Sietske farewell, Rach and I went up north again, this time along the east coast, which is beautiful but I truly honestly have to say no match for the west coast. But we enjoyed it anyway, took a walk along the beach in Golspie and for the first time on the trip did not spend the whole day driving but went for a hostel in Rogart. The hostel consisted of several train carriages transformed into four sleeping cabins, a kitchen, a dining room (wuhuhuaa, big word) and two bathrooms each. In the compartments, the seats on one side had been removed and replaced by a two storey bed, while on the other side, the original seats had been left as the were. It had a very comfy touch to it, but would probably have been problematic for tall people, as the beds were rather short. We met a nice couple from New Zealand there, who invited us to hop on a plane and come over to their place. Rach is really considering doing it after the FLA year and I envy her, cause it will only be back to plain old Uni again for me once I leave Scotland...
That evening we took a walk and met the locals (the furry ones) and came back in time to see one of the three trains per day pass the Rogart station. That's how I know it must have been about six or half six in the evening when we were back at the hostel (sleeperzzz.com). We then decided to take a little nap and after that spend the rest of the evening chatting with our new friends Jeff(65) and Karen(62); the nap lasted until eight 'o clock... the next morning.
After breakfast (partially sponsored by Jeff who let me have some canned pears), we were on the road again, heading north and reached John O'Groats after again having a walk at a beautiful beach, where the sea was wild and emerald green, in the early afternoon. We drove up to the lighthouse and took a short walk to Duncansby Head, Scotland's north east corner, and had a look at the Duncansby Stacks. It was beautiful and wild and rough and darn windy. We then drove back to the village where I managed to find what must be Scotlands only pay toilet. Me not having coins ready almost led to disaster...
We then looked at wonderful photos (of ships, Whales, Dolphins, Otters, ships, the sea, ships in the sea and amazing ones of the local aurelia borealis(please correct me if the phenomenon is called something else, this word somehow soesn't look right to me)) in the local Gallery. After that we went on to Thurso and booked two beds in a luxurious en suite room in the local hostel.
Leaving our bags there, we saddled our steed again and drove about half an hour to a prehistoric site. We couldn't see much of it, but we knew it was there. From there, we went to see a lovely little chapel in the middle of nowhere, dating from the 12. century. We had to leave the car near a farm and walk for about twenty minutes, guided by our own black and white guide dog to show us the way.
Back at the hostel in Thurso, I realized being tired and havin caught a tick, uaechbaechjak.
We got up at half five the next morning, which should be our last in the Highlands and drove back to Duncansby Head, where you can see the sun rising out of the see. Well, theoretically at least. Unfortunately it was too cloudy to really see much, we were far too early and also it was horribly windy. I had to hold on to a post of some fence in order not to been literally blown away (metaphorically I was of course). We spend half an hour in darkness and storm, amongst the sleeping sheep and with the sea raging about 100 feet below us, coming up once in a while and throwing bits of foam in our faces. At half seven we were back in the car and made our way south, passing Inverness again, driving along Loch Ness and stopping in Fort William for some fish and chips for our remaining five pounds. We couldn't find a space to park our car, as you had to pay everywhere, we were out of money (fish and chips) and the town seemed to consist of traffic wardens, so wham-bam, goodbye Fort William, fuck you very much!
We headed towards Loch Lomond, which Rach was anxious to see, driving through Glen Coe in the first bad weather of the trip. The clouds hung really low in the valley, it was really coming down, everything was grey and spooky and I thought even in the worst of weathers, this place still looks amazing and impressive.
We reached Loch Lomond shortly after, had a short walk, made sure to take a picture and touch the water and then set off home, driving through Glasgow during rush hour (mjejemjee) and reaching the Edinburgh City bypass tired and exhausted about an hour later. Fortunately I took a wrong turn in a roundabout, so we didn't enter E-burgh from the west, which would probably have meant queuing through the whole of Costorphine and straight into the city center, but from the south, which was much less complicated.
After we had taken back the car I don't remember much. I think I slept most of the time, even when I was awake.
But it was an excellent trip, we will definitely do it again, there are many places we want to see again and even more that we still don't know. I want to go to the outer Hebrides, Orkney is right at John O' Groates' doorstep and the single track road along the north coast between Durness and Thurso is calling out for me to discover it. Nine months in this country just is not enough time...
