7^th Aug 2014

Pausing occasionally to scan for the smallest sign of a trail I slowly made my way along what appeared to be the path Dan had spoke about until I reached a woodland. There the trail stopped. I stopped. I looked around but nothing immediately obvious jumped out at me. I moved to a different position and peered into the woods, surrounding me was thick undergrowth. Nobody had been this way in a while. I then turned round and saw something odd with the terrain so I moved closer. The ground had been trodden into a small ledge along a very slight bank so I went over to get a closer look. The ledge appeared to go off in the right direction, granted plant life had taken over and obscured it but it was definitely not a natural phenomenon. I decided to follow the trail to see where it took me, after all nothing ventured nothing gained. Ducking under branches and pushing the ferns aside the trail slowly became more prominent and eventually lead me to a field. I had to make a guess but I figured it must then follow the boundaries to a stile I could see at the far end.

On the other side of the stile the track was easy to follow, decades if not hundreds of years worth of walkers had compressed the soil so much that very little grew and with a keen eye looking ahead I was able to plot a route between the gorse bushes and across the next field. There were sheep grazing but unusually they didn't seem bothered by my presence, completely ignoring me and continuing to feed on the nourishing grass.

Eventually I found myself at the end of the field and at a gate. Passing through the gate I found myself in a small car park with a sign showing two ways to Cromarty. One pointing left down the road and the other ahead down the cliffs. To my right though was something far more interesting, a locked gate with a yellow warning sign stating "unsafe buildings". This had to be the gunnery positions Dan had mentioned before I left. I had to go and investigate further. I climbed over the gate and walked along the old concrete road, ahead of me a couple of old wartime buildings with thick metal shutters that had rusted and aged over the decades. I wandered around them peeking through the open windows and where possible entering the structures through any accessible doorways. A little further along there was a gunnery position easily identifiable by the large opening at the front pointing out to sea. It most likely housed a large machine gun with a wide field of view. It was a reasonable find. At the bottom of the road was a huge fence which looked too high to climb soi wondered what was behind. I headed down towards the fence to Investigate further and see if I could find a way In. As I walked along the road I kept my eye out looking for signs of other interesting buildings when I passed the entrance to an underground bunker or fallout shelter. The entrance was clear and had, come take a look inside written all over it. Well that's what I saw in my mind. I headed down the concrete steps and along the concrete tunnel to an opening, switching my torches on I stepped into the underground structure. It was dark and the walls painted black with wooden batons fixed to the wall. The room that was concealed from above was fairly large and I imagined what it would have been like during the blitz. I guessed there would have been a table in the middle with a map, personnel gathering round it planning the defence of this small part of the country while armed soldiers above manned the guns. After checking around to see if there were any tunnels or additional rooms but finding none I carried on wondering what else I would find.

At the bottom of the road and behind the barricade I could see more buildings that I would have liked to take a closer look at, some built into the banks of the cliff. I looked for a breach in the perimeter but noticed there were new occupants living there, pigs, great big porky pigs. I decided not to proceed any further and that my curiosity on this occasion would have to be satisfied with what I'd discovered. Heading back up to retrieve my pack I was a little disappointed but also satisfied.

At the car park I took a right and headed down the gravel path towards the bottom of the cliffs and into the picturesque forrest below. Within a few hundred yards I noticed another concrete opening that appeared to be another underground bunker. My spirits lifted and I made my way over. Sure enough it was another entrance to another bunker. Would it have the same layout as the other or would I find something else? A large complex maybe. I headed down the concrete steps and once again along the concrete tunnel and through the concrete opening. The room was once again painted black and also had batons fixed to the wall. This time though another doorway on the far side. I wondered if it would lead into a second room or maybe passageway. Feeling quite excited I went to investigate. Sure enough there was a small room around the corner no wider than a corridor. What was it used for. I probably would never know for certain but I tried to imagine anyway. The best I could come up with was a stationary cupboard.

I wasn't disappointed though, merely getting another adrenaline fix satisfied the adventurer in me so I carried on down the path and into the woods. I knew now that I had missed the tide and my chance to cross the loch so I relaxed and enjoyed the scenery. As I glanced down to the woods below I wondered if anyone had ever set foot between the trees and wishing I'd brought my ropes and climbing gear I wondered what I would have found should I have been the first to explore.

As I continued on my way a break in the tree line revealed for the first time the landscape I would be negotiating the following day. It was amazingly beautiful and the clear skies and evening light highlighted the vibrant contrast of colour between the rocky cliffs and green woodland on top. When you see something new its very hard to simply walk on by, you have to stop, you can't help yourself. After taking in the view it was time to carry on. I hadn't gone far before I came across a pillbox. This pillbox was different to the hundred or so I'd already seen so far on the trek. Large metal shutters and a heavy metal door fortified the thick concrete walls. If the enemy had managed to land and scale the side of the cliffface up to the gunnery position the occupants would have been safe for a while. But how much dynamite or explosives would it have taken to breach the inside. Pulling the shutters closed would have stopped bullets and grenades but a carefully placed payload would gave meant certain death to the occupants trapped inside.

It was early evening now and I needed to find a place to pitch up for the night, dans parents had mentioned a free campsite next to the harbour and although I would normally settle in amongst the trees I figured I would carry on to make sure I was close to the shore ready for the mornings crossing. The path I was on was easy to follow and I soon found myself walking along the banks next to the mouth of the loch. Sat on a bench was a young couple and their very young children. They were enjoying the view and quite rightly too. I stopped for a quick chat before carrying on to the harbour.

Cromarty is a small town with a history dating as far back as the medieval times. An information board summarized some of its history and a small area had been excavated revealing medieval foundations. I love stuff like that and the historic stories behind the objects the archaeologists had found.

Arriving at the campsite I walked through looking for a slightly sheltered location to camp. As I passed the last caravan I familiar voice called out. It was dans parents. They were camping there whilst visiting the rest of the family at the bothy. I decided that I would pitch next door and become neighbours.

9^th Aug 2014

It was a gorgeous sunny morning. I climbed out of the tent and was immediately greeted by dans mum who offered me a bacon and egg sandwich and coffee. The perfect start to the perfect morning. My plan for the day was simple, paddle hoolley across the loch and walk to the military installation at the top of the hill. After that I would simply improvise.

I headed down to the harbour to see if there was anyone in at the coastguard station so that I could get some local information about the tides and currents. Unfortunately the place was empty and doors locked. I looked around for a tide table but again not a bean in sight. I did however notice a young lady disembarking from a boat so decided to ask her, hoping she could give me a hint as to what I could expect. "You're asking the wrong person I'm afraid" she replied. Thankfully a young couple who had arrived in their car overheard the conversation, they were about to take their boat out for the day and had the tidal information on their phones. Being locals they were also able to give me the guarantee I was after that the current was fairly tame where I had intended to cross adding that when I was crossing if I saw a small boat with a scottish flag that I should wave. I headed back to the campsite checking the shore line as I did for the ideal place to launch from.

Directly opposite where I had pitched up my tent was a sandy beach, it was perfect. I went over to get my gear when I met dans mum coming towards me. She was heading off to the harbour to go dolphin watching, as she passed she bid me fairwell and thrust a ten pound note in my hand and told me that I should use it to buy myself something to eat. Wishing me good luck she headed off to the harbour.

I'd left my pack where I'd slept that night so I went back to retrieve it and returned to the shore. I unpacked hoolley and attached the pack to the front. I was about to set off, my eyes firmly fixed on the water studying the flow and behavioural patterns taking note of any areas where the waves picked up and breaks formed. Just as I was about to climb in dans father came racing over. He wanted to get a good look at hoolley before I left. Standing there looking very impressed he fired a few questions off. Hiw stable is she, whats she like to paddle, can you roll her, where can I get one. I think that all in all he was very impressed. Then dan appeared over the bank and down on to the shore. Dans father turned to him and said "I'm going to get one!". It was now time to make my move. I climbed into hoolley and began to launch, dan, dressed in his dry suit assisted me and gave a little shove. I now had my eyes on the shore across from me all the time watching out for the swell and rogue waves. I'd paddled about half way across when a small white boat with a scottish flag pulled up along side. "Thats a small boat" a voice called out. It was the couple I'd met in the harbour earlier that morning. "So is that" I replied "got any beers?". "Yes thanks" came the reply. Hoolley was slowly becoming a celebrity amongst those I'd met, intrigued by the journey she had embarked on with me. I carried on paddling unable to loose focus of the task at hand.

I was now about three quarters of the way across when the Cromarty ferry set off in our direction. As it approached it slowed, the passengers on board gatgered on the deck to watch as I passed by. I had to wave as they waved back. Nearing the shore the waters settled and I found myself in the safe zone all I needed to do now was land, pack and set off on the next part if the trek. Finding a suitable spot a little way up the beach I turned in and we came ashore. I gave hoolley a little wash down and packed her away before hiking down the beach looking for a way to climb the cliffs to get round the headland. As I neared the road leading to the ferry I saw allistair his wife and children, the young couple I'd met whilst hiking into Cromarty the evening before, walking towards me. "Its a small world" he shouted. Stopping for a little chat they invited me to join them for an impromptu picnic on the beach.

Sat on the picnic blanket enjoying the weather and the company with the children slowly building a sand pile on the blanket I was fed cheese and ham rolls. Its funny how the simplest gesture can really lift your spirits while at the same time remind you of the little things you forget you miss. Time was now starting to get and I needed to get further than half a mile that day. Climbing to my feet I swung the pack on my back and headed off. As I walked up onto the grass i started to think about those that I'd met so far and wondered if I would ever see any of them again. Sometimes its hard to say goodbye in the knowledge that you'd become good friends in a small amount of time and that in most cases that would probably be the last time you will see them again. I hoped that social media would help prolong the friendships as it had after completing the camino and when I'd backpacked the world several years prior.

The sun was shining and it looked as if it was here to stay for the day. I headed away from the beach and followed the road up an incredibly steep hill towards a sign that would point me in the direction of the clifftop path, the route I would need to take to navigate the coast where access to the shore was impossible. Along the way I met a couple of lads who were out enjoying the weather. They'd told me to expect a kool derelict military base at the top that was worth looking at as they'd enjoyed evenings up there exploring. Nearing the top of the hill I spotted the path leading back towards the cliffs across a field occupied by sheep. I climbed over the stile and made my way across.

At the top of the cliffs I started noticing several demolished buildings. They looked similar to ones I'd seen before at other old military camps I'd come across. This had to be the place where the gunnery positions where. There wasn't much to explore and I wondered if bulldozers had finished the job the allied enemy had failed to accomplish. In its day the base would have been huge. I carried on along a narrow tarmac road now overgrown by grass and weeds. It lead me to a couple of buildings untouched by the destructive force of the mechanical tyrants. I lay my bag down and had a wander round. On the first building stalactites were hanging down below the guttering. I headed round the back to look at the next building, it was attached to a large gun emplacement. A big grin grew on my face, this was it. I walked round the front and down some steps into the installation. It had a similar layout to others I'd explored before except this one had a passage leading below. I went over for a closer look only to discover the entrance to the tunnel was blocked with debris and too steep to descend into. A little disappointed I carried on looking round, I headed over towards the cliff edge to get a better photo when I noticed another gunnery position with an identical layout. I had to take a look, as I walked over I observed that it was in much better condition and wondered if it too had an underground bunker or if indeed the two where joined with a passage. As I headed for the main complex I passed a small concrete box with two metal doors on the front and metal ladder leading down below the surface. This would be worth exploring as it had to leaf somewhere. I carried on to the main structure feeling excited. Looking as good now as it would have when it was built I went in to explore. The layout was almost a mirror of the first complex. It to had a tunnel leading below and this tunnel was still clear, it was also less steep than the other. I felt confident that once I'd explored the abyss I would still be able to make my way back up. I turned my torches on and headed in. At the bottom of the slope I could see a small room with doorways leading off. This was going to be kool. I exited the tunnel and set off through one of the doorways. It lead into a large room that I figured would have probably been the munitions store and guessed the slope was probably where the artillery was sent up to the large guns above. Another doorway then lead me to a small passage which split in two. One went back to the tunnel I'd entered the underground fortress and the other to a metal ladder I figured would take me back to the surface and up to the two metal doors I'd passed when I walked over to the main gunnery position. There was only one way to find out. I had to climb the ladder. I gave it a good tug, it seemed solid so I decided to ascend. Sure enough I found myself at the top and exited through the metal doors. It was probably the original entrance military personnel would have entered and exited the structure. Feeling quite pleased with myself I went back to retrieve my kit and set off along the clifftop. I left the war relics and crossed a field towards a small wood. Arriving at the woods I found some more small gunnery positions. The sun was now starting to set and this seemed like a reasonable place to stop for the night. I went into the woods and near the edge found a place to pitch. The view was marvelous, feeling quite lucky I settled in for the night.

10^th Aug 2014

The following morning the skies were cloudy but the sun still managed to pierce through. I unzipped the tent and peered out. A falcon with a twig in its mouth glided from the trees behind over the tent and onto the thermals of the cliffs. I laid there for a while watching as the bird gracefully hung in the air defying gravity until it banked right and disappeared out of sight. I got myself dressed and made a coffee. I had nothing to eat for breakfast and searching around the tent for something other than clover proved fruitless so I packed up and headed off wondering if I would find anything on my travels during the day ahead.

Leaving the woods behind I set off across a field, the sea a long way below me but still on my right. The edge of the field was thick with gorse but there was a small woodland ahead and I could see a the tip of a forest beyond that. It was now the start of blackberry season and I could see brambles growing amongst the gorse, the berries weren't ripe but figured if I was lucky I may spot one or two that I would be able to pick and eat as I went. Heading towards the forrest and through the woods I kept my eye open, scanning the bushes carefully for anything edible. Sheep and lambs were grazing among the trees and I thought to myself how nice it would be to have a delicious lamb shank with potatoes and greens.

The ground was moist here and among the trees I saw a small boulder which looked like a good place to rest. The clouds had now begun to weep, spitting tiny raindrops down from above. I sat down on the boulder and noticed a small carpet of chickweed and clover. With nothing else edible I picked a few leaves to stave the hunger and satisfy the rumble in my belly. I then looked ahead at the valley before me and the hill of gorse beyond that wondering how I was going to navigate myself through. The rain quickly passed so I got myself together and headed off towards the corner of the field. Beyond the gate I could see a small wooden sign post petruding from the fern that was now growing thick. On the post was a marker indicating a coastal path down into the valley below. I couldn't see the path it was supposed to be directing me to though, the ferns had well and truly taken over, I couldn't even get close to the sign so I decided to walk parallel to where I thought the path may lead into the forrest below.

Walking through the forest I got the distinct impression that nobody had been here for quite sometime, if ever. It was a lovely and wild forrest with green grasses growing among the trees and a lush green canopy of leaves above. About half way down I was stopped in my tracks, the forest thickened and the grass had been overgrown with heather. There didn't seem like a way to continue so I headed over the heather towards the edge of the forest hoping to pick up a trail or ultimately the obscured path. I saw nothing. The only way I could go was down, into the forest. Searching for a route into the woodland I had to duck and squeeze my way through the tree line. It was like entering a medicine time warp. Robin Hood would have felt completely at home amongst these trees carrying a bow and stalking out deer. Moss now covered the ground as I made my way between the trees to the bottom of the valley. I could hear running water and hoped it would be clean safe drinking water. I was running low and if I was lucky I would be able to fill my water bottle and hydration bladder.

As I descended to the the bottom the the sound slowly became louder and I found myself standing above a small waterfall. It was a steep bank to climb down but game trails where other animals had walked made it slightly simpler, wet grasses on the bank causing me to tread carefully and slowly. Alongside the burn and at the bottom of the waterfall I took off my pack and took out my pan. It didn't matter how clean the water looked, and believe me it looked crystal clear, I was still going to boil it before stowing away in my bag. I boiled three pans, just under two litres and had another coffee. While I waited I made myself a coffee and realised I was sat below a beech tree, old nut shells beneath my feet. I looked around but once again turned up nothing, the squirrels had beaten me to it. Then I remembered the peanuts and dark chocolate I'd been given at dans bothy. I searched my pack and pulled them out. It was an unusual combination but food none the less. As I was sat there it began to rain once more, this time heavily. Eventually it stopped but the rain had now made the banks slippery and dangerous. I knew I had to get out of the valley and had a fair idea that it would probably involve climbing up to the top at some point.

I hatched a plan, I decided to follow the burn to the end to see if it would lead me to the sea and hopefully to a beach. I grabbed my pack and headed off. The burn snaked and wound its way through the forest, thr valley narrowed and the banks became sheer rock faces and impossible to climb without the right equipment. The burn then took a sharp right, I hoped I was nearing the end and prayed that it wouldn't lead me to another waterfall that I wouldn't be able to negotiate. I went round the corner but was immediately stopped in my tracks by a huge fallen and rotting tree. I couldn't go any further, I had no other alternative but to head back and try to find another way.

11^th Aug 2014

With no alternative I made my way back to the waterfall. As I approached it I spotted another sign pinned to a tree indicating a path up the steep valley bank. I couldn't believe my eyes. I looked in the direction of the arrow to see if I could locate the path but ferns growing over six feet tall had well and truly obscured it. It was now a case of either make my own path or continue to make my way up out of the valley following the burn until the valley became less formidable. Neither option was favourable and even though common sense was telling me the simpler choice was to follow the burn I decided to follow the sign and beat my way through the ferns and inevitably the gorse at the top of the valley banks. I set off, laying the ferns down flat to give my boots something to grip on to. It was insanely tough. Every so often I lost grip on the wet ferns sliding back down a few meters grabbing at what I could to stop me falling to far. About half way up I found a trail buried beneath the foliage. At least I'd managed to keep somewhere near the path the sign had indicated. As best I could I followed the trail, pulling the thick layer of plant life aside and clambering up. It was hard going and progress extremely slow. Meter by meter I ascended the banks till I hit a wall of gorse. The trail I had located passing through the spiny bushes. I could go no further and the trail was now lost. I looked back down at the path I'd made, should I go back, should I attempt to force my way through the gorse and risk cuts or should I do something else. I stopped to asses the options, none of which were that appealing. I was so near to the top it would have been crazy to turn and go back down, it would have been too dangerous too. Forcing my wau through the gorse would have been painful and wouldn't necessarily take me all the way, thick bushes could still potentially completely block me off. There had to be a way round, a gap in the spiny barricade ahead of me. I dropped back a couple of meters to scope the ferns either side. I could see a narrow passage between the gorse and decided to have a go. I pushed the ferns aside, misplacing my left foot on what I thought was solid ground but instead turned out to be a void. I dropped like a stone, pulling myself up I took a deep breath and peered below me, but determined to make it to the top I carried on with my quest. Finding an energy building up inside I was not going to let the valley beat me. I pushed through the plant life foot by foot, grabbing hold of anything I could to help pull me through. Eventually the steep valley banks shallowed and I was able to make better progress.

Stepping out from the gorse bushes and forrest of fern I spotted another post with the all to familiar sign, its arrow now pointing to the bottom of the valley. A path once available for all to use now belonging to mother nature. I took a moment to catch my breath, sitting on my pack, the rain still spitting from the heavens above. I looked around to see what my next challenge would be and plot a route to negotiate it. I was in a field of long wild grass. Game trails zigzagging across it. At the far end a barricade of gorse, to my left a track leading over a hill. I wanted to stay as close to the coast as possible and figured that there could be the possibility of a path running parallel. After all there were signs. I picked up my pack and set off in the direction of the gorse.

As I approached my nemesis I noticed a heavy trail leading between the bushes. On closer inspection it appeared to have once been a heavily used track. Looking along the track it appeared to follow a fairly straight line running along the clifftops. I wasn't sure how far I would be able to go but it had to be worth a go. I set off the spines of the bushes penetrating my clothing and sticking into my skin. Forcing my way through the bushes along the trail I started feel like I was making progress, the sun had come out and the skies started to clear. I carried on, pushing the obstructive branches aside and where necessary taking a deep breath and simply pushing through. It was hard going but I hoped the effort wouldn't go unrewarded. Then I hit a dead end. The bushes had grown thicker. I was stood in a small clearing and could see the trail continuing beyond the blockade. Unfortunately the bushes had grown too thick and there was absolutely no way of passing through. I had no choice, my efforts had been for nothing, I'd have to turn back and make my way along the thorny trail I'd just battled with and head up the track to the top of the hill and follow the perimeter of the gorse. It was a blow to moral but without any other way it was the only option available.

With haste I followed the trail back to the field and began to climb the track to the hilltop. Clouds had rolled in and the rain began to spit once more. Following the gorse I made my way across the field. At the far end it began to descend into baron valley. As I made my way down I noticed blackberry bushes lining the way. Hopeful for a fruit or two I found nothing. The berries growing on the bushes still red and not ripe to harvest. At the bottom of the valley a clear grassy path was visible that would take me on a gradual slope back towards the coast and back to the top of the other side. I followed the path along and up to the top. As I hiked I wondered what I was doing and whether or not I'd be able to complete the challenge I had set for myself, then i saw a view that boosted my moral to an incredible level. Being so high I could see mountains ahead penetrating the cloud line, towering above the sea. It was raining here but far off into the distance the sun was shining brightly. It was like I could see the top of the country. It was like I could see the finish line for the first third of my journey. It was like I could see john o'groats. With a new sense of purpose I headed down off the hillside and into a field below. A track passed through some more gorse but it was easy to negotiate and ended abruptly behind a farm.

Climbing over a gate and onto a track away from the days adventure was a satisfying feeling. I didn't really want too many more days like the one I'd just had. I followed the track which lead me to a farm house. To my right a field of sheep was all that was between me and the coast. I climbed over the fence into the field ready to make my way over when I spotted what looked like a tall stone encased in a glass room. I stopped, my curiosity getting the better of me. I climbed back over the fence and removed my pack. I had to take a closer look.

Free from the constraints of my backpack I was able to make light work of walking over to investigate this unusual anomaly on the landscape. The glass box obviously housing a relic of great importance. Approaching the stone I found myself humming the 2001 space oddity theme tune, was it a huge monolith tablet sent by aliens marking a new era, I wondered. As it turns out the sandstone monument still remains a mystery today. Its intriguing picture carvings depicting a cross, several animals and an intricate pattern were certainly ancient but its origin unknown. My curiosity now satisfied I headed back to my bag and set off over the field to the sandy beach. Following the beach along I found myself at the Balintore harbour. I was hungry so I headed into the village to find a shop and buy supplies to last me at least a couple of days. I bought some super noodles and rice, tin of soup and bread rolls, a packet of sweets and some Chocolate muffins, figuring a little high calorie sugar endulgance was deserved.

Feeling content with my sugar hit I found a quite piece of grass near to the harbour and set up camp before sitting down to enjoy my soup and rolls. Bread rolls being a complete luxury.

The next morning the skies were clear. I packed my gear away and set off along the road running alongside the shore. After about half a mile I spotted something I hadn't seen since I was a kid only this was on a much larger scale. Sat on a rock a little way from the stoney shore was a mermaid sat on a rock, the mermaid of the north. Sculptured in bronze this life sized beauty gazed up at the blue skies. My parents had had a small souvenir of the landmark on their mantel piece, I could remember playing with it when I was very young and quite often my lego explorers would have battles around its base. It was quite odd reminiscing about my childhood in such an unusual place. I wondered if my parents had once visited or how indeed theyd ended up with the miniature mermaid.

It was a brief reacquaintence as I soon returned to the task at hand and headed off away from the village. Cliffs were now rising above me on my left and the stony shore disappeared into the distance and out of sight.

I carried on along stony beach around the headland always keeping an eye on the cliffs incase I needed a get out strategy should the shore become impassable. The stones soon became huge boulders and the terrain much more challenging. I found myself having to leap from boulder to boulder watching my footing as I went. A small trail in the distance which ran along the shore through the grass seemed like my best path and would certainly make the journey simpler. I had to make my way across from the shore bacj towards the cliffs. I made a leap onto a boulder eye fixated on the path, I hadn't quite got the momentum I needed to safely make the gap, my left boot gripped quickly followed by my right. My pack however hadn't quite made it, the weight pulling me backwards. I instantly and instinctively scanned the boulders surface, located a good handhold and grabbed it pulling my self up. The pack jolted and I felt the muscles in my back tense. I climbed over onto the large boulder and sat down, removing my pack as I did. Breathing a sigh of relief I thought to myself how badly that could have turned out. I could have fallen backwards between the boulders possibly hitting my head on the way down or damaged my spine. I was lucky there was no two ways about it. After checking myself over I picked up my pack and set off.

I must have walked a fair few miles when I eventually came across small village with about 18 or 19 houses. I entered the hamlet through a wooden gate and began my way along the street. On my left I saw John and Pearson, father and son, cutting grass outside their static caravan. Behind the caravan was a lovely old horse box that had been converted into a travellers camper. As I passed john called over so I stopped to have a chat. John offered me a chair and disappeared inside. When he returned he had a mug of tea and pancakes for me. John and Pearson were in the Highlands for a short holiday. John had bought the land 35 years earlier and used to spend his holidays as a child with his grandparents who used to live there. As we chatted it began to rain so we stepped into the caravan to take shelter and drink more tea. The time passed quickly and before I knew it darkness had fallen over Scotland. The days getting shorter and the sun setting earlier and earlier. It was then decided that I should pitch my tent up on the front lawn and stop for dinner. John made us corned beef, new potatoes and cabbage. It was a welcome change to the meals I'd been having recently and certainly beat having to make up a pan of super noodles.

I slept reasonably well on the freshly cut lawn. I peered out of the tent, it was a cloudy morning. John brought me out two fried egg rolls and a mug of tea to see me on my way. I'd had a lovely relaxing evening with the both of them and was sorry to once again have to set off on my quest to circumnavigate Britain.

I left johns along the stony beach, once more the cliffs reaching for the skies above. Ahead of me I could see a pristine castle, it had been bought by a rich scottish arcitect and lovingly restored in keeping with the medieval style. Passed the castle I was faced with another headland, large rocks and boulders would normally discourage hikers from continuing but I'd seen much worse along my way and decided to tackle it hoping I would not be disappointed and have to return to find an alternative route. As I clambered over the rocks I noticed a small waterfall cascading over a cliff ledge and onto the rocks below. It really was quaint and meant that there was a high possibility that finding water in the future wouldn't be the task I'd had trouble with till now. On the other side of the headland the rocks and boulders became rocky plateaus. The sea had carved huge channels between them. I crossed over the plateaus and onto a stony beach. I decided to take a little break and removed my pack. Half way up the cliff was a cave, while resting it had to be worth exploring. I grabbed my torches and headed up leaving the pack where It was. I headed into the mouth of the cave and spotted a small opening that when I peered in opened up into a much larger cave. It was an enormous cavern the problem was I couldn't fit through the opening. It was a big shame as I'm sure it would have been a fantastic explore. Slightly disappointed I went back and picked up my pack to continue on with the days trek.

I hiked along the stony beach which soon became rocky plateaus. Climbing over the rocky floor which was slippery with kelp and seaweed I could see a lighthouse seated on the headland ahead of me. I wondered if it was possible to make my way all the way around. My question was soon answered, I found myself cut off, steep cliffs surrounding me. The only route left other than backtracking to the beach was to climb the cliffs to the top. I searched for a safe route to the top and made my ascent.

At the top I found myself surrounded by heathers and gorse. I was now starting to get sick and tired of the spiny bushes. I made my way over the heather and found a way through the gorse to a tarmac path leading to the lighthouse. I followed the path and headed around the front of the lighthouse. On the far side a stone wall prevented me from proceeding around. I wasn't going to go back so I took my bag off and balanced it on top of the wall and climbed over. On the other side I reached up and pulled the pack down. As it came down the weight threw me off balance and I dropped it while trying to retain my balance.

I was now in a field of grass. I slung the pack on and set off. The shore was just below me and ahead a track lead between two rows of gorse. The sun was now shining brightly and I was getting warm as well as hungry. Seeing some plantain I picked a few leaves and carried on my way munching the leaves as I did. I could see Portmahomack ahead of me now. It was still a few miles off so I decided I'd have the super noodles I had intended to eat the night before. Finding a sheltered place between the gorse I sat down and took out my cooking gear out.

After having my lunch I set my sights on making the town before dark.

Arriving at Portmahomack I made my way to the harbour where I found the local pub. I had a couple of quid in my pocket so thought I'd treat myself to an orange juice and lemonade and use their Internet to upload my latest videos. The Internet was down so I offered to take a look. It didn't take me long to identify the problem and promptly fixed the wifi. Liz the pub landlady was so grateful she offered me a free meal. I can highly recommend the port burger. While enjoying my meal it began to rain, and heavily. Word had now spread about the minor miracle I'd performed amongst the customers of the pub and collin, the owner of the local shop and post office stopped me as I was about to leave to find somewhere sheltered to camp for the night. Intrigued by my adventures collin said that I could use the lawn in front of the shop to set up camp on. It wasn't sheltered but it also meant i wouldn't have to hike out of the town to find a suitable spot to sleep. I left the pub, headed up the street alongside the coast and found the lawn. While putting up the tent I realised I'd misplaced one of the pegs. I took out a length of plastic coat hanger I'd been given as a spare in banff and used it as an improvised tent peg.

12^th Aug 2014

It had been a cold night, winter was quickly approaching and I knew I'd have to be prepared. It had stopped raining although the grass I was pitched on was still wet. I packed my gear away and set off. I'd been told that there was a live bombing range ahead of me, almost directly adjacent to the village. I didn't fancy spending the night on it even though I was pretty sure the raf didn't work weekends. I left Portmahomack along its beach, the sea was calm and the bombing range gradually got closer. I stopped and considered the possibility of using the pack raft to shorten my trip. Looking along the beach it appeared that I would probably be able to walk round the small bay in a short amount of time so had to weigh up the time it would take to get hoolley ready against a small hike along the shore. I was feeling tired after the cold and restless night so decided I'd walk instead, thinking it was a close call. I continued along the beach as it bent round the corner. It then became apparent just how big this bay actually was. The tide was coming in too and I found myself cut off from the beach I had just left which meant that I was unable to easily head back and alter my original plan.

I was committed now so I carried on, climbing a grassy bank I walked into Inver and followed the bank behind some houses towards another bay. This short hike was now turning into a real stomp, I should have gone with the plan to paddle over to the beach across from Portmahomack. It can hit your moral hard when you realise you've made a mistake but you can't dwell on it. I carried on around the bay and found myself on a marsh, the bombing range not too far away. Trying to stay close to the waters edge but not so close that the marsh would spring any surprises on me I carried on, keeping the all to familiar warning signs in view.

You should never take anything for granted, especially when crossing a marsh. The ground I had been walking on was solid enough and I was keeping close to the edge although it was getting squidgy in places . Seeing some long grass ahead of me I decided t would be solid and make for a safer passage and provide me with a firm under footing. I stepped onto it and immediately toppled forward, sinking up to my knees. I threw my weight back and my pack hit the more solid mud of the marsh behind me. I wriggled my left leg free and unbuckled myself from my pack. I then rolled over to my right and with a corkscrew action freed my right foot. Doing what can only be described as "the worm" or "caterpillar" or in fact impersonating a seal have a seizure I dragged myself up onto the marsh alongside my pack. Rolling over and resting against it all I could think was " scott would have wanted me to film that". I took a moment to rethink and learn from the experience before getting back to my feet and picking up my backpack.

The bombing range was now close and I could hear the sound of motorbikes. Staying away from the long grass, close to the edge of the marsh but strictly to the firm but squidgy mud I carried on. The sound of the motorbikes getting louder as I walked. Then in front of me I saw a motorcross track, bikes racing each other over huge dirt mounds getting air as they did. I kept hiking towards them and off the marsh which was now very squidgy and considerably less firm. A small sandy beach, I mean tiny, my refuge and a good place to take a breather and an excellent spot to watch the bikes.

After taking ny break and enjoying the entertainment I carried on towards the bombing range, climbing over a fence and past a sign which for all accounts had some pretty good advice. "Don't touch military debris it may kill you".