20^th Jul 2014

Thankfully my new neighbours were extremely quiet during the night. At around 4:30am the flowers did need watering though so I got up and climbed out of the tent. I was greeted by the most amazing sunrise I think I have ever seen. The sky looked like it was in fire. I finished water the plants and grabbed my phone to get a shot of the gorgeous orange sky over Gardenstown. Although I could have stood there for the rest of the night, there was a slight chill in the air and I was only in my boxers. I climbed back in to the tent and wrapped myself in tight in the sleeping bag.

I woke several hours later, the sun was most definitely shining and created a green halo on the flysheet. I looked at the time, it was 9am. Definitely time to get up. My boots and socks were still a little damp so I left them off and figured that a little time in the direct sunlight would help somewhat. I also got the solar charger out and lay that next to the tent to grab a bit of free electricity while I heated up the can of soup I'd planned to have the night before for dinner. Casually I packed my things away and eventually made the decision to head off up to the top of the cliffs.

Before I left though I had to take a look round the ancient graveyard of st johns church. I'd been told that when the vikings landed at the small town the villagers had sought refuge in the church and thrown stones and rocks down to stop the invaders. I was also told that the skulls of three of the vikings had been cemented into the walls of the church and although they had been removed in recent years the holes where they had been placed remained. I ventured through the old squeaky iron gates and into the graveyard. The headstones were really old and I found several that had skull and crossbones carved into them. I don't think they were pirates graves but they certainly looked spooky. I wondered round the graves taking a moment to read what I could and then I headed inside the church ruins. Inside were more graves and about half way along the back wall I found three small square holes. I took a closer look and could see the imprint of the backs of the skulls in the cement that would have held them in place. Very kool! After I took a few photos I grabbed my pack from outside and followed the path that had been cut into the overgrown cliff side up as far as it went. Which to be honest wasn't very far. The path then became a faint trail leading to a large rock that haf a hole in it. I looked around the rock trying to guess where the trail then lead too. Amongst the ferns and thistles I was able to make out a small game trail, possibly deer or used by ancestors of the farms above. I went off and began following the trail. It seemed to be taking me up the cliff side and I started feeling hopeful that it would take me all the way. It didn't, about 100 yards later and even the game gave up and the trail simply ended.

Surrounded by thick gorse bushes I'd reached the end of the trail. I was now faced with a tough choice, I could either turn around and head back down to the church and try to find another way up or I could attempt to get over the bushes as best I could and climb the last 20 - 30 feet to the top. So I looked around trying to find a route that would cause the least pain. I made my final decision and went for it. I ploughed through the thick ferns towards the steep slop up and made my way through the gorse, the spines sticking into my legs as I went. Clambering over and through the gorse towards the base of the slope. Every step I took meant more thorns jabbing like a miriad of needles. Eventually I got to the grassy slope and using my hands and feet I climbed the last bit to the fields above. It was tough going but safely at the top I looked down at the prickly prison I'd managed to escape from. The views looking down over the coastline I'd made the scratches and cuts worth the price. Now faced with a barbed wire fence I climbed over, my trousers getting caught up as I did. One barb stuck into my need and caused a small rip. Typical, I'd only just received these trousers and already they were a casualty of the trek.

The next few hours were easy in comparison to the mornings climb. Walking along the edge of the fields looking for places to safely walk the cliff edge. There simply weren't any. I stuck close to the fences, passing from one field to the next. Some were corn fields and others grassy, home to both cows and sheep. I passed through potato fields and other produce, each time having to climb the fences.

I walked several miles over the undulating and changing landscape, the sun getting hotter and hotter until I reached an impassable valley. I couldn't get down the valley wall so I followed it round till I found a bridge to cross. On the other side I had to follow a narrow road which lead me to the main road leading into Macduff. 
I was now feeling very hot and the walk was getting harder, my backpack like a ball and chain, slowing me up. I found I kept needing more and more rests. My feet ached my legs ached and my back ached. Passing a golf course on my right and seeing civilisation slowly getting closer my spirits lifted. I knew that once I'd reached banff my day would be nearly over. I headed down into Macduff and took a break on the harbour wall, the old town hall over looking me.

Sat on the quayside I lay out with my boots off and the solar charger pointed at the sun, shining down from the clear blue skies above. The sea was calm and I sat there watching a fishing boat leave, a young boy helping by unhooking a rope that had helped steer the boat round the tight harbour entrance. A fisherman waved and shouted at him with thanks. It was now late afternoon and I'd wanted to get passed banff before I called it a day. Feeling dehydrated but slightly rested I put my boots back on, grabbed my pack and set off along the harbour and out of Macduff.

The bridge to Banff was only a mile away and I got there in good time. As I crossed the river I spotted a nice sheltered place which would have been a reasonable place to hold up for the night. The only negative things I could think of was the noise of cars passing over the bridge and the fact I would probably be disturbed by digs being walked early in the morning. I also desperately needed to go toilet. I carried on along the promenade passed the harbour and headed for the public convenience. It was locked. I'd missed my opportunity by an hour. This was now a serious issue. Spotting a work site across the road I climbed round the tall wire fence and dug a shallow pit hoping that no one would see.

After I'd avoided a potential catastrophe I carried on heading out of the town. Vast areas of grassland next to the sea inviting me to camp up and rest my weary body. Ss I walked along the road next to the old railway I saw an elderly gentleman carrying two shopping bags. We started chatting and I offered to help by taking the bags for him, figuring that he must live in one of the houses near the end of the road and that I'd have to pass his home anyway. After all it wouldn't have been a problem as I already had a full load on my back anyway.

Kenny was 81 and had celebrated his birthday two weeks prior. Before we parted company he offered me a cup of tea which I gladly accepted. While chatting about the town and trek we discussed what it was like before, during and after the war. Kenny showed me some old photos he'd collected of his street showing the old railway and what it was like when it was a thriving fishing village. It turns out that his old service identification number was similar to an old phone number my parents had had when I was younger. 2747768 was kennys number and my parents phone number was 01425 274776, a random coincidence. Kenny offered me the use of his shower and allowed me to wash my clothes.

The feel of the hot water running over my skin was refreshing and to be able to shave in a mirror was a luxury I'd missed. After my shower we sat down and had sponge cake with our tea followed by cheese sandwiches. I didn't realize how much I'd missed eating good old mature cheddar till then. Kenny then asked me if I knew about the plane being shot down over the Ukraine. Being completely out of touch with the news this was the first I'd heard about it. The news was shocking and so many innocent lives lost.

It was getting late now so kenny offered me a bed for the night. I explained the rules about wild camping and improvised shelters to which he replied, "there's grass out the front", "perfect" I said. I went out pitched up a bid Kenny a good night.

Well i Slept like a baby. It was gone 9am when I woke, kenny was out watering his garden and had wondered if I was alright. We had breakfast together and checked the weather. It looked like I would avoid the bad weather that was heading this way and engulfing the rest of the country. Good luck with the weather seemed to be staying with me. I could only recall a couple of weeks worth of rain in the whole time I'd been away. I decided I'd have to make a move though in order to ensure that I didn't get caught out though but when I went to pack the tent away in realised that the tent pole I'd fixed with duct tape some months prior had finally snapped completely. I needed to fix this as the bottom of the tent had now completely collapsed. Kenny suggested that maybe a length of bamboo might do the trick. He took an old piece from his garden and cut it down to size. It fitted perfectly. I put the bamboo under pressure by flexing it and it broke. It was a good idea but the bamboo was too old and brittle to serve as a tent pole. We pondered for a bit and kenny disappeared. He cane back with a plastic coat hanger. I flexed it and it seemed to have withstand a reasonable bend under pressure so we cut it down to size and I whittled the ends so that they fitted into the joints. It all looked perfect. I finished packing away and set off along the old railway that ran alongside his house.

I Walked along the old railway and headed down to beach, passing a small camp site as i went. One of the campers stopped me and asked where I was going so I explained about the challenge and how I'd been wild camping for nearly 5 months. He asked if I'd been in the army which seems to be most peoples assumption. I told him that I'd applied when I was younger but because I had asthma when I was a child they refused to accept me. I then carried on up to next village and through to the other side. The landscape ahead of me looked extremely baron and rocky. I headed down to coast where long grass was growing between huge rocks and boulders. I'd had quite an exhausting couple of days and decided I would find a nice bit of grass between the rocks and make camp. I gathered drift wood from the shore and built a small fire. This was the ideal place to catch up on my blogs and relax for the evening, sheltered from the wind. I erected the tent using the replacement pole made from an old coat hanger. It seemed to work fine, holding the flysheet in place. I then climbed in and made myself at home. It then started to rain but that didn't bother me as I was nice and cozy in my little shelter amongst the rocks.

21^st Jul 2014

In the morning I could hear the rain tapping on the flysheet. In two minds whether or not to get up I put my clothes on and made a coffee hoping it would pass. It didn't. I climbed out of the tent and put some plastic bags over my socks in an attempt to keep them dry. I started packing away only to discover my toothpaste had exploded in the side pocket covering everything. Piece by piece I cleaned the paste off my gear and packed away my wet tent. Setting off along the coast a heavy mist was obscuring the way ahead. Slowly but surely I walked along a small trail through the grass and rocks the sea quite calm to my right. I came to a small stream and paddled through it hoping the bags would do the job. On the other side of the stream was a small sandy bay. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get much further but headed for it none the less. At the far side of the bay the coast continued and I was able to pick up the trail once more.

I carried along the trail passing rocky bays, round each headland and outcrop that I came across. Knowing that what I was doing was dangerous didn't make it any easier. The rocks were wet and slippery and I knew that one small slip could cause me to fall, breaking my ankle, falling over and giving myself concussion or worse still fracturing my skull. I proceeded with caution across the rocks unable to leap as I'd been able to on other days. The progress was slow. I was also down to my last breakfast and dinner rations and had opted to go with out the night before and that morning and I knew I had to conserve my energy.

Slowly the mist cleared and the rain stopped. I was now able to see much further ahead of me. There was no one around except me and I really had no idea what the day had in store.

Then I hit a dead end. A shear cliff face the other side of a sandy bay. I headed across the bay wondering if and how I would be able to get to the top. As I crossed the bay I noticed a quarry to my left. If I wasn't able to climb the cliff I'd have no other choice than to follow the track away from the bay and find another way round. As I got closer to the cliff I thought I'd spotted a potential route to the top. I went over to investigate.

A very small ledge lead from about halfway up all the way to the top. But could I get to the ledge? It was worth a go. I started to climb but almost immediately the slippery rocks sent me crashing to the ground. A little disheartened I took off my pack, checked myself for injuries, a small scratch on my left arm. I then had another look to see if there was another route that would get me to where I'd wanted to be. I couldn't see any. I turned round and headed for the quarry, thinking that maybe a higher view point would provide the answer.

I climbed the slope up to the quarry where I found two old wooden carts discarded and peered back at the cliffs that had said in no uncertain terms, I was not going that way! I sat myself down on a log and made a coffee wondering what my next move would be. As I sipped pondering a couple out walking there dogs came down the track towards the quarry. Looking for some local knowledge I asked if they knew a way to get back to the clifftops so that I could continue with the trek. Pointing at the track they'd just come down they said they had heard there was a path, although overgrown that could possibly get me back to the coast. Adding that it would probably be hard to find. This seemed to be a riskless option so I decided to take their advice and go in search of the path on the other side of the valley which now was between me and the next town if Portsoy.

I set off along the track and came to a road. Following the road I spotted what looked like gooseberries. I went over for a closer look. Sure enough there was a bush which very much resembled a gooseberry bush, the fruits were hairy however I'd only ever seen green ones and these were red. I picked a fruit from the bush and tasted a bit. It tasted like gooseberry, just because I hadn't seen red ones before it didn't mean they didn't exist. Taking a plastic bag from my pack I began to harvest the fruits. Considering I hadn't had any breakfast and was running low on rations this was a fantastic find. Once I'd collected all I could reach I decided to carry on down the road, saving my bag of fresh fruits till later.

I carried on along the road, crossing a bridge over the river that ran through the valley. The road now started making its way up. Amongst the hedgerows I spotted more gooseberries, these were green and very familiar to me. It felt like I was on a free shopping spree. I collected as many as I could, nibbling on a few as I did. The sun was now out and the air was warming up. As I neared the top of the hill I spotted what looked like miniature cherries. Kenny had told me about these a couple of days earlier but I can't remember what he'd called them. It didn't matter I gathered as many as I could and put them in the bag with the gooseberries.

Attaching my bag of goodies to my pack I started to doubt the existence of the path or maybe I'd already passed it. A bit further along I came across a track that headed back to the coast so I headed along it hoping I would either pick up a trail or the landscape would be kind enough to let me make my own. At the end of the track though I found the path, and by path I mean Scottish path. You see Scottish paths are different to any other path you may come across. Scottish paths aren't for softies, you need to be adventurous and have a really good imagination.

A set of stones embedded under the undergrowth lead me to a trail along the cliff faces out to a welcoming yet rugged headland. I gradually made my way down the path, crossing a well made bridge to the bay below. At the bottom I spotted a jolly roger flying above some old drift wood. Arrr! I chuckled, humming the pirates of the carrabean theme tune. I carried on along the shore and noticed an improvised bench with a plank of wood that had the words "sannie een hotel", above that another smaller bench, chair like in appearance that also had a sign above it reading "top place". I took a break wondering what I would have for dinner that night. In my pack I had some rice and I'd gathered some cherries and gooseberries. All I needed was a couple of final ingredients. I looked round hoping to spot my favourite wild edible plant, sorrel. Then I noticed a heavy fog rolling in over the bank and cliffs I'd just descended from. It looked ominous. Turning back to the bay I noticed sandwort amongst the stones and decided it would make a good accompaniment to the othet ingredients. I picked a handful and put them in my shopping bag with the rest. Just one more thing was needed.i saw a dandelion, the leaves green and succulent. I didn't fancy dandelion tonight, I thought to myself. I paused then picked up my bag and decided I'd keep looking as I continued on.

I followed the trail over a small slope and into the next bay passing a cairn on the way with a printed note explaining the traditions behind them. It was now getting late and I had no idea how far Portsoy was so I decided to start looking for a place to camp.

At the far end of the stony bay I found a levelish piece of grassy ground. Nearby there was a fair bit of driftwood. It wasn't perfect but it would do. I pitched up and went off to collect firewood. Getting back to camp I set about making a small camp fire to dry my socks and boots and to simply pass the time while I sat and watched the sea rolling into shore. A small fishing boat was rolling about in the waves casting nets. Once the fire had died down a little I grabbed my bag of goodies and some rice and began to make dinner, the wild way. I poured some rice into my pan, added the cherries, sandwort and gooseberries. I then added some water and brought it to the boil. Once boiling I let the pan simmer whilst stirring the ingredients. The rice turned pink. After about 15 minutes my wild meal was ready. It didn't look too bad at all, maybe a little odd. I tasted it. Well if it was on the menu at a restaurant I certainly wouldn't recommend it. It certainly had flavour! A bitter sweet taste, I think it really needed sugar and would have probably been best served as a desert. Still it filled me up and was at least full of vitamins. I decided I needed to rethink the recipe and try something different next time.

A heavy mist was now rolling in from the sea and the waves were becoming more aggressive. I decided to climb into my coffin and get comfortable. As I lay there I noticed a small pin prick of light coming through. On closer inspection it appeared that a spark from the fire had landed on the flysheet and burnt through. It was on the far side and away from the inner flysheet so I hoped it wouldn't drip in. There wasn't much I could do about it anyway. All in all the day had been a bit of a disaster. Hoping the following day would be better I climbed into my sleeping bag and got settled.

22^nd Jul 2014

Despite sleeping on a particularly uneven ground I had a reasonably hood rest. Certainly better than the night before which was particularly restless. I checked my boots, they were still very damp and the bags I'd used the day before hadn't lasted the day. I got a pair of dry clean socks from my bag and put them on. It was going to be an uncomfortable hike but I'd simply have to put up with it. The sea had calmed down considerably and the mist had cleared.

It was early, really early, 5:30 in fact so I boiled the last of my fresh water hoping I would find an uncontaminated stream to fill up from and made a coffee. I still had the chocolate biscuits Brian had given me so I munched away on a few of those for breakfast.

The sky was overcast and I hoped it wouldn't rain and give my boots time to dry out once more. I packed up and set off up the bank to rejoin the path which was now more defined. As reached the top I could see Portsoy a mere couple of miles away. I needed to get water so this was a pleasant sight. I set off following the coastal path down to the 17th century harbour and up into the town. I stopped at a bakery to get some water and was treated to breakfast by two customers, moira and eric, who'd driven from Aberdeen to Portsoy just to get the car serviced saying they'd been coming here for 25 years because they trusted the family run garage. Eric was a save the Children volunteer and moira a writer. Before they left they gave me a strawberry tart and steak pie to take with me.

I headed away from the town and alongside the 17th century harbour, which as harbours go, looked I would say pretty much the same as it did when it was first built. I thought to myself that if I was ever to consider filming a period drama set around a 17th century fishing village this would definitely be the place to film it. Not that I'm ever likely to film a period drama set around a 17th century fishing village. I followed the path around the edge of the harbour and set off a small gradual slope to what remained of an old cottage. There was only one wall left and that face out along the coast, a window framing the view like a painting. It was quite beautiful. After stopping to admire the scenery I set off following a small trail around the cliffs surrounding a small rocky bay and up towards the village once more. As I made my way onto the tarmac road that would ultimately put me back on track I met Gordon and Maria, up from Kent visiting Gordons family. "Thats a tough hill" they said, I think they were taking the piss, "fancy a cuppa?". Not one to turn down an excuse for a breather I joined them for a cup of tea and toffee cupcake. Damn, that cup cake was good. Just looking at it I could feel the calories piling on. We had a good old natter, Gordon mentioning about some huge caves he'd been taken to when he was five which probably only look huge to a five year old but I said I'd take a look anyway, and I got a top up charge on my phone and was told that killer whales and dolphins could be seen in the waters I'd be walking along. Definitely something to look out for. Before I left I was given a banana, apple and toffee cupcake.

I eventually had to say goodbye but thoroughly enjoyed my short time in the village of Portsoy. Following a tarmac path, a rare luxury, I continued along the coast. When I reached a high point on top of the cliffs I stopped to retrieve my notifications and reply to comments. Its getting tough replying to all of them now as so many followers are now interacting with my posts. Still I did my best, the slow Internet speeds hindering my ability to reply. One post though attracted a few replies. I'd posted a status saying I couldn't believe people were reading the blogs especially as they are getting longer and longer all the time. My official Facebook stalker, sharon, had mentioned doing some video blogs. I had considered it in the past but while testing the capabilities of the phone I noticed the size of the videos were quite large and even using wifi, took a long time to upload. I thought about this further while continuing to manage my notifications. I figured that maybe if I could adjust the phone settings and keep the videos extremely short then maybe it could be done.

I set off back on the trek wondering how I was going to shoot the videos and more importantly how I would upload them. After all I was struggling with the blog and simple photos. Then I passed a rock covered in sea birds. If I was to do a this would be the ideal setting especially as the sun had now come out. I quickly thought up an introduction, fiddled with the phone and began shooting. I had no signal to upload though so carried on along the cliffs to the end and looked at the next village I'd be passing across a calm bay. Lets get a bit more creative I thought. By using the pause feature of the phone I could make a very short film. I shot an intro, paused and started shooting the next shot of me walking along the heather bank towards the village. The short film was then going to end with me saying something inspirational. Well it all started well until I fell down a pothole. That's a rap I thought. I couldn't believe it but the replay was quite funny so I found a signal, sat down on my bag and waited for the videos to upload. While they did I got the solar charger out, made a coffee and nibbled on the pie and fruit I'd been given earlier.

While I'd waited for the videos to upload I discovered that the first very short clip had used 20% of my phones power and had taken nearly 45 minutes to upload completely. The second film however, which was much longer didn't upload and due to a bad data connection kept resetting halfway through. I also discovered that uploading the videos was using more power than my backup charger could supply. I'd also had the power monkey out to test if it needed to be switched on whilst charging from the panels. I was hoping that it could be left off during the charging process thus being more economical. Well during the time it had been placed in direct sunlight it didn't charge at all. This meant that I would have to remember to switch it on in order to recharge its battery. Shame, I'd had higher hopes for the unit.

Experimentation over I set of for Sandend. It was indeed a lovely day for lying on the beach and swimming in the sea except I was hiking with a gurt backpack on. Overheating and sweating like an aerobics instructor I followed the path along until I located a small trail off the path. It lead down the side of a steep hill to a stoney bay. On one side of the bay what I assume used to be a house although most of it was missing. The front was still standing and resembled a set from an old wartime movie. I carried on around the bay and into the next which lead me to the town of Sandend. 
On the other side of the town I had to follow a small coastal path which lead me up to the clifftops. As I climbed the slope I stopped to watch a couple of kayakers surfing the breaks in their play boats and wished I could stop and get hoolley out to join them.

It was now getting really hot. I shouldn't complain at least my feet were drying out but I was also sweating profusely. The coastal path here was well maintained and took me as close to the edge as humanly possible. The views as always completely breathtaking. After a few miles of hiking I was looking over at the sea and spotted a ruin embedded in the cliffs. An arch of some sort. As I made my way closer I began to see more and more. I wanted to get closer and check it out and started looking for a way over. It became apparent that I'd have to drop my pack in order to have a good explore of my finding, I also didn't fancy having to lug the pack back up the cliffs again. I found a narrow trail that lead roughly in the right direction so I headed down, slipping on a wet rock halfway down, something that tends to happen after a wet day. It was now starting to look like an old castle. I hadn't realised at the time that I'd stumbled onto Findlater castle. Exploring the ruins was extremely good fun. Holes opened up into rooms with views across the bay through small window openings. As I explored I took photos and then I thought I would try making a short film using the phones video camera. I'd discovered how to pause recording so I could essentially edit on the fly but it would have to be a one take shoot. A challenge I happily accepted. Going back to the start, where I'd entered I started filming, trying to not make it boring I kept the clips as short as possible and made sure I said something as I went. I wanted people to believe it was the first time I'd gone through and pass the experience on. I played the footage back and realised that when I'd swapped hands during filming I'd turned the camera upside down. Hmm half the film was upside down and I looked like I was walking on the ceiling. My plan at the time was to post the video and simply take the flak I'd receive. I climbed back up to my kit and carried on to Cullen.

I started following the path and almost immediately stumbled on a stone semi circle with an information board telling visitors about the castle and a brief history. After a brief stop it was then time to set off once more. Ahead of me was an absolutely stunning beach, completely absent of people. I couldn't believe it. I really felt like calling it a day and just pitching up there and then. It was too early anyway and I really wanted to upload the video. I'd also had the thought that I may be lucky and be able to download a video editing app for my phone so that I could produce slightly more professional looking short films just using my phone. A mini challenge!

I headed down the path towards the beach below. Walking along the sand was really tough going, my legs telling me to stop and my determination disagreeing with them. At the end of the beach though I had to return to the solid path and its shagpile carpet of lush green grass. The path headed into a thick forest of ferns, rocks strewn around and emanating from beneath. It was like walking through a jurassic valley. Absolutely stunning, did I really want to leave this little piece of paradise, my own private beach. I had to I still had a very very long way to go before I got home again.

I made my way through the ferns, the path snaking its way towards a rocky wall. I wondered where it was taking me, eventually I reached the wall, and a small opening cut into it. I stepped through and the scenery completely changed. It was like stepping through a porthole and in complete contrast to the intense green foliage I'd just been experiencing.

27^th Jul 2014

I slept well in my penthouse one man tent, listening to the sound of the waves. In the morning the sun was shining so I slowly got myself together having a couple of coffees before setting off. My first challenge was to get to the next bay which meant traversing a rock face and climbing over boulders into the bay. Dotted along this part of the coast are small caves which I pretty much always have to go and look into just in case I find one that's particularly interesting. These were fairly small and a subterranean adventure was out of the question. I carried on to Buckie, along the way finding a pillbox built over the mouth of a cave. It was very kool although full of rubbish. I then carried on crossing the road and heading for a derelict building I'd spotted hoping I'd be able to take a closer look.

It was quite a large building, rusting girders holding it up, an old crane winch repurposed into a swing hung from the rafters. I wondered how anyone had managed to hang a rope from the hook some 30 feet above me. I wandered around peeking in cupboards and checking out the old machinery scattered about. After satisfying my curiosity I continued on to the post office to pick up my new boots and final ration pack. Before I left I was given some insect repellent, being told that I would definitely be needing it soon.

In my parcel I found the prize I'd won, a blister kit. Couldn't believe it but figured I could review it through my blogs. I also had received my replacement glass screen for the phone. I searched on the Internet for instructions on how to swap them over only to discover that I would need to use a hair dryer in order to get the old screen out. Another little challenge, I figured I'd be able to sort something out at a later date so packed it all in my bag ready to set off to spey bay.

Across the street from the post office there was a bar advertising free wifi. I decided that I would get a nice cool drink and use YouTube to find a tutorial on changing my screen. It was unusually hot and in the afternoon it appeared to be even hotter. I decided I'd wait until the sun started to set before I'd head off, not wanting to hike with a full pack in the seering heat. So I had a few more cool drinks and waited it out.

It was now approaching evening and I received a message from Andrew who I'd met the day before with his father in law. Andrew had seen the photos of the derelict ship yard I'd posted online and recognised them. It was the ship yard just along from his home so he sent me a message saying that if I was still in the area to pop round for a drink and bite to eat. I didn't usually go back the way I'd come but it was so hot that day that I'd found myself seeking refuge in the pub in the square and it wasn't far to walk back the way I'd come to meet him and his family. I finished my drink and decided to go back. I slung my pack on and started off. Andrew and his family were all sat in the front garden and extremely welcoming. It was a lovely relaxing evening, a few drinks and drams of whisky. Andrews wife heated up a pizza and fed me and his mother in law gave me the Spanish inquisition. I had a great time. It had gotten late though and my plans to make a move in the cool evening air didn't happen instead I decided to pitch up on the grass opposite Andrews house.

The following morning I woke early and packed up. Andrew popped out to say good morning and I set off. I headed down towards the harbour, passing the local life boat station I thought I would knock to see if anyone was in. Ilas it happens there was, I love meeting these guys. They always have a yarn to spin and welcome me in.

After a short break, natter and a quick shave I decided to carry on, after all I still had a very long way to go. The sun was well and truly out and the skies clear. I headed out of the town and on towards Portgordon. Just before I got there I spotted some seals basking themselves on the rocks in the sun. They were only a few meters away, it was extremely peaceful there so I took off my pack and decided to take a moment to sit, slightly obscured by some rocks so as not to disturb them. It was a beautiful sight and a magical moment. The sea was calm and the air was silent. I could have stayed there for hours but knowing I needed to keep walking I eventually climbed out from my makeshift hide and carried on.

On the other side of Portgordon was a long stony beach with patches of sand running its length. I dropped down from the harbour and made my way along the shore. The beach stretched off into the distance, sweeping right as it did. I appeared to be the only person there, in solitude and not for the first time. It was a few miles before I saw a soul and cut off by a river I needed to make the decision whether to unpack hoolley and risk a crossing or walk inland to an old railway viaduct and cross over there. It was a close choice, I'd been told by one of the rnli crew that this river was notoriously dangerous, but looking at it the paddle seemed easy. There was indeed a very strong current but I'd paddled worse in the past. In the end I decided I would take the tree lined path to the bridge. Some of the worse dangers are often the ones you can't see.

I headed over to the gravel path, stopping to admire the view and watch the birds flocking on the opposite bank. Some fly fishermen slightly upstream were casting out, waste deep in their waders. It was once again another lovely day and extremely hot. The path unlike the majority of the ones I'd hiked in Scotland was extremely easy to follow. As I walked along the path I noticed a couple of raspberries so I stopped to forage. While nibbling on a couple I thought to myself, if there's one bush then it's likely there would be others so I scouted around and found some more. I kept gathering and munching as I did. Before I knew it I had collected two handfuls. I lay my pack on the ground, sat down and enjoyed my feast. I then carried on, the viaduct wasn't much further. It was an old iron railway bridge from the 18 hundreds and was decommissioned during Beechams cutbacks. The tracks had been removed and a footpath lay in there place. Crossing the bridge I caught up with an elderly couple walking their friends dog. They told me that a little further along and slightly off the path I would find some wild cherries growing in abundance. They were right, just after we parted company I headed down the little track they'd mentioned and sure enough there were several wild cherry trees all with their fruits ripe and ready to pick. I took an old shopping bag out of my pack and began to collect the sweet tasting treasure. Once I'd gathered as many as I could reach and consume I sat down on my bag and tucked in. To say they were the best cherries I have ever eaten would be the truth.

Once my belly was full and my appetite satisfied I headed back to the coast, the river flowing to my right and a different view back at where I had come that day.

Once I'd arrived back at the coast I had a long walk before I'd arrive at Lossiemouth. With white stones piled high for as far as the eye could see forming a natural sea defence much like a huge stony dam I set off wondering how far it stretched. The going was extremely tough, my boots rolling and slipping as I walked. After about an hour enduring the tough terrain looking down at the sea to my right I decided to stop for a break and rehydrate a sweet and sour chicken ration pack. To my left I could see a car park enclosed in rose bushes. It was very windy along the sea front so I decided to take shelter behind the bushes so that the flame on my gas burner wouldn't blow out. The skies were still clear so I pulled out my solar charger to get a little top up and charge up my phone. While boiling my water I sat on my pack and took a closer look at the available features of the video editor I'd installed on my phone. When the water came to boiling point I picked the pan up, the hot water spitting over my hand. Needless to say despite my intentions my natural reflex was to let go of the pan. The pan tipped and boiling water spilled over my left leg. Immediately I stood up and rolled up my trousers in an attempt to keep the hot water from scolding me but the damage had already been caused. I could feel an intense pain and needed to think quickly and treat the injury before it got worse. I abandoned my gear and made haste to the sea. Bathing my burnt skin in the cold salty waters of the north sea. The relief was instant. I stayed there for several minutes hoping that my wound wouldn't be too bad and avoiding a trip to hospital.

Getting back to my pack I took a look at my leg, the skin was red where the water had come in contact with the boiling water and stung a little but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. With a minimal first aid kit packed away in my pack for the trip I'd had to discard the usual creams you would use to treat such injuries as the majority of times such medicine wouldn't be because necessary and would add extra weight to the pack that I'd have to carry. I knew that most if my followers wouldn't understand but then again why would they, its not like the majority of them would ever undertake a challenge of this magnitude. Relieved that I had prevented serious scarring I refilled the pan and prepared my meal. Tge only thought going through my head was the fact that I'd wasted a pan of water that would have allowed me the luxury of an evening drink.

The sun was on its way to setting and I'd wanted to make slightly better progress than I'd done so far that day hoping to camp a few miles before Lossiemouth. My new phone screen had been delivered with my supplies so I hoped I would find a repair shop in town. I packed up my gear and set off once more along the stony embankment towards the sun. Although I was heading north towards Dunnet head I was actually heading west to Inverness in order to cross the bridge for the final leg of my northerly trek.

Following the coastline can be a disorienting experience, one night the sun can set to your right and other nights to your left depending on the direction you are heading in. One thing was always for certain though, the sea was always on your right and with this in mind you simply couldn't go wrong. Eventually I would find my way home and arrive in Southampton. 
A forest ahead of me was a welcome sight. It meant that I would possibly be able to camp under a tree should the weather change and remembering the experience camping amongst the dunes near Peterhead it was a welcome thought. Heading towards the trees I saw a now familiar warning sign. I'd cone across these signs several times before, they warned of military activity, in particular luve firing ranges. I didn't want a repeat of my last experience when I inadvertently camped in the middle of one. I checked to see if any red flags were flying. It was early evening now and the ranges are generally closed but it was prudent to check anyway. With no flags flying I knew I would be able to safely pass through without getting shot, I just had to make sure I got all the way through before settling down for the night. Thankfully this range was reasonably small compared to the others I'd passed so far on the trek and it didn't take too long to hike passed the last flag pole and back into the safety zone.

As I'd hiked alonf the shore I'd noticed hundreds of anti tank blocks lined up stretching for miles with the occasional pillbox sparsely dotted between. Ahead of me now on the top of two large duned I could see a couple of large gun positions. The concrete buildings untouched for decades other than graffiti spray painted on the walls the buildings were pretty much as they would have been during the war. I was getting tired and only had a few hours of light left but couldn't resist having a closer look.

The buildings had large front facing openings where the big guns would have been mounted, the steel threads still visible concreted into the floor. Behind the big guns were a few smaller rooms, probably to store the ammunition or observation posts. After a good wander round both of them I decided to carry on further and find somewhere to call home. I was particularly looking for a grassy floor or a blanket of heather or sandwort to pitch up on. As I carried on along the beach the sun was setting lower on the horizon. I had to stop and watch it, a gorgeous sight, no two sunsets are ever the same. Not far from where I'd witnessed the sunset I found a lovely spot next to the dunes, long grass and soft sand. I was about two miles from Lossiemouth and I couldn't see anything further ahead that would provide a better site.

The following morning I woke, the sun was shining bright and I was sweating inside the confines of the canvas coffin. I wasn't ready to be cremated just yet and listening out for machine gun fire was satisfied that this time I'd camped up in a safe zone, either that or the British army had taken the day off. I had breakfast and packed everything away before hitting the stony shore once more.

The beach went from stones to sand after about a mile. Ahead, I could clearly see the town and families out enjoying the gorgeous weather. Children playing in the sand and sea while parents sunned themselves against the dunes. At the far end of the beach I found a bridge that would take me across the river seperating the beach from the town. I was about to cross the bridge when I noticed a man with a couple of cameras randomly taking snaps of families playing in the water. He looked like paparazzi, complete with desert colours body warmer. I went over to ask, it turns out he was from the press and journal, Scotlands most popular newspaper. I told him my story in the hope he'd be interested. Fascinated by my journey I posed for a few shots before heading over the bridge and into the town. David, the photographer, told me to expect a call from a journalist so I found a cafe and waited for a call. Sure enough the call came through and I repeated what I'd told David.

It was still extremely hot as I walked by the harbour and down onto the sandy beach the other side. The tide was out so I was able to walk on the firmer sand making my progress alot quicker, then the fog rolled in without warning. It was surprising how quickly the clear skies were obscured by the thick mist reducing my visibility from as far as the eye could see down to just a few hundred feet. The temperature had dropped dramatically as well so I decided to put on my fleece and carry on along the beach. After a few miles the fog started to lift and my view restored. Ahead of me I could see a lighthouse perched ontop of a small cliff.

Below the lighthouse I spotted a couple of caves, three to be exact. A cavers paradise maybe. The only way to find out was to go and explore. I took off my pack and went to get my head torch from the side webbing where I usually kept it. It wasn't there, it must have fallen out at some point that morning. Caving with out a light can be extremely dangerous but that wasn't going to stop me having a look. I headed into the first cave and used the assistive light on my phone to light my way. The entrance was a reasonable size and well lit, to the right there was a pitch black tunnel that lead to a small cavern. This was worthy of filming so I switched over to video mode and went in, banging my head on the cave roof as I did. Thats why you need a head torch I muttered rubbing my forehead. I'd hoped the tunnel would go further bug unfortunately it stopped at the cavern so I went onto the next set of caves just round the corner. These caves were much larger than the first and a quick recce revealed a couple of small tunnels leading into the rocky cliffs. Feeling hopeful I went in for a closer look. The first, smaller cave had a very tight but manageable tunnel that I could just squeeze into. A crawled in moving cobwebs out of my way as I did. I got about half way in and shone the phones light ahead of me. It appeared to open up into something much larger. Fearing I would damage the phone though I decided not to proceed any further. Safety and protecting my only form of communication and documentation had to take precedence over my nagging curiosity. A little disappointed I made my way to the last cave. This cave was much larger than the others. A low ledge looked interesting and concealed another small tunnel. It was a tight squeeze but I easily fitted and the natural light from the cave entrance made it easer to descend down towards the tunnel. Switching the phones light on I crawled, feet first, through the opening and into a tiny cavern. It didn't go any further and there wasn't much to see so I headed back to the surface to report on what I'd found.

Wanting ti upload my photos and put out a call for anyone with a spare torch I could have I climbed up tge cliffs to the lighthouse above to try and get a data signal. I tried various locations pointing the phone in various directions but I simply couldn't get good lock on. It was draining my battery so decided to give up and head off.

I Carried on along tge beach to some cliffs blocking ny path and walked the clifftops towards Hopeman. I was hoping to find a cafe there so that I could retrieve my notifications and upload the dats adventures. Following the clifftop path I came across morw wild raspberries. A good handful to munch on as I walked. Knowing that I needed to conserve my rations and keep the calories piling on an opportunity such as this can never be ignored.

It was now early evening and the views were spectacular, birds riding the thermals against the cliff faces and the evening light being cast over the heathers around me. I decided to take a short break and enjoy the last of my fresh pickings while also enjoying watching the birds and the beautiful view over the sea. As I did a fella walking the other way stopped for a chat. I told him I'd lost my torch and how it made caving a little more dangerous than I was comfortable with. Thankfully he lived in Hopeman, my next stop and told me of a costcutter shop open late there. If I was quick enough I'd probably be lucky and find something there. It was certainly worth a look. I grabbed my pack and headed off.

On the way I passed a couple of large inviting caves but somehow resisted the urge to explore. arriving in the town by the harbour I headed up the main street and found the convenience store at the top of the hill. They didn't stock head torches but they did have a few pocket torches. It was better than nothing so I bought one and stowed it in one of the side zipper pockets, conscious that I didn't want to loose this one. A few doors down I'd noticed a small cafe with wifi and decided to get a coffee and upload the days video and photos as well as checking my notifications. I hadn't realised the time but while I was busy editing the video they were closing up. Usually they switched the wifi off when they left but seeing my predicament the owner kindly left the wifi on so that I could sit outside and finish up.

Once I'd done all I could I decided to head off back to the coast. The sun had disappeared by now and it was rapidly getting dark, the days getting shorter each day. Surrounded by rocks and gorse bushes I wondered where I would be able to find somewhere to pitch up. Thankfully I found a small level grassy area right by the shore in a lovely rocky bay. It seemed fairly secluded and quiet so decided to stop there. I'd been told that I would probably see dolphins in the area and this seemed like a good place if I was lucky. I settled in and got some rest.

The following morning it was once again incredibly hot and sunny. I sat by the tent eating my breakfast, hot chocolate pudding, gazing out of the bay hoping to spot a pod of dolphins having their morning feed, but only saw a small fishing boat going about its business. After packing away I set off to the next town, Burghead. I wanted to find a newsagents to see if I had in fact made the local rag. Along the way I bumped into sally, a local resident. She'd bought the paper that morning and instantly recognised me from the photo. "You're the man walking the coast, aren't you" she said. I was a little taken a back. I hadn't really expected anyone to have really read the article let one recognise me. She took me in doors and pulled out the paper to show me. Sure enough my picture was in there and a short article about my adventures so far. Granted they got a fair few details wrong but the press never really get it right. I was quite chuffed to say the least. Sally offered me a coffee and while chatting away about the area and dolphins sally spotted a pod of three dolphins swimming right opposite her front door. We went out and watched them together until they disappeared . They were a fair way out so trying to film them was out of the question. None the less it was fascinating watching them. After this lovely interlude i headed down to the harbour and headed down to the beach on the other side. There were stones lining the dunes but there was firm sand down by the shore. As I hiked along I heard thunder in the distance. Feeling a drop of rain I climbed the sand dunes and into the forrest that lay behind them. Taking refuge beneath a tree I made the decision to setup camp and take a long break in order to catch up on my blogs. Finding a small secluded clearing amongst the trees convinced me I'd made the right decision. I had several days to catch up on and videoing my adventures had meant sacrificing the blogs temporarily. I had to take time out in order to catch up as afterall if I was to produce a book when I finished I would need the blogs to work from. It was also evident that if I was to continue having other adventures when I got back to Southampton I'd also need some kind of income.

During writing the last few days notes I decided to try and get a data signal which to my surprise I found. Amongst the private messages I'd received one stood out amongst the rest. Someone had posted a reply to my request for a head torch.

Chris was a lovely guy who'd seen the article in the paper the day before and found my Facebook page online. Seeing my post about loosing my head torch he contacted me to arrange a meet the following morning.

I woke up early the following morning, it was still raining. My luck with the weather had finally run its course. I made the decision to get up and head back to Burghead to meet up with Chris and collect his head torch and get some water leaving the camp still erected. I hoped it would dry up while I was away. I headed out of the forrest up onto the dunes. Before I set off back up the beach towards the town I left a couple of markers, the first at the top of the dunes, a wooden pyramid showing me the way back into the woods and the second down on the beach, some largish stones in the shape of an arrow indicating where to climb the dunes to get back to the top. With the markers in place I knew as long as nobody moved them I would be able to find my way back to camp.

It was still raining as I headed into town and to Chris's home. I was greeted with a hand shake, a head torch and bacon butty. Chris then asked if I was in need of anything else so I asked if he knew where I could get hold of some gas, mine was running extremely low. Immediately he jumped on line with phone in hand and started trying to track some down. Unfortunately we weren't too lucky but discovered several shops in Inverness that would be able to help.

The rain had eased off some what now and the sun was trying to break through. I said farewell to Chris and headed back down the beach back to camp, found my markers and easily found camp. It had started to rain again so I climbed into the tent and decided to continue writing up my blogs. Although I'd had a few short days I hadn't had an actual day off for a while and now I had drinking water I figured I could afford to see what the weather did before committing myself back to hiking.