Powered by a Brookie (cookie on the bottom, brownie on top i.e. 1000 calories in one bite) today’s destination was Dunnet Head, the true most Northern point in the UK. Dancing between motorhomes, annoyingly more numerous than we, and the locals, would like we pedalled down the first of our single track roads.
With the heather in full bloom and sunshining down, this deeply peated landscape was more welcoming than likely the majority of the year. Most of the little croft houses seemed to be empty, or replaced by larger grey rendered, and much less romantic, bungalows. Stopping by a little bay for lunch, with a backdrop of a beautiful, but ruined store house, we changed our camping destination to a clifftop perch (Windhaven – although less of a haven as we would have liked) from the recommendation of a passing cyclist couple.
Popping to Dunnet Head Distillery (famous for their Rock Rose Gin, the botanicals collected from the Dunnet Head peninsula) for our tent drink, we set up camp over the cliff tops, and flew up the hill to Dunnet Head lighthouse (our third Stevenson lighthouse in as many days). As the mist came down over the lighthouse and the remains of the WWII radar station and early warning system, housing 1000 men, it felt very desolate, with the gliding fulmars for company.
The Mancunian couple who ran the campsite, cafe & b&b – seemingly on a whim – they seem to have calculated that for a campsite of approx 18 campers/tents one toilet and shower (combined) was acceptable – were certainly better on wildlife spotting. Sadly the puffins had departed a few days before (spending the rest of their lives out at sea) but they daily saw seals from the cliffs, and orcas on a weekly basis. Our eyes were peeled, but to no success.
Watching over our breakfast the campsite owner simultaneously jumpstart a retro camper, direct a non-plussed motorhome renter how to reverse into the dirty water area and shout at several dogs, we wondered if they ever thought this was the easy life! But with dilapidated crofts selling at £40k with 20 acres of land, we still wondered whether this could be fun to have a go at!
Departing Dunnet Head we went via ‘Mary Anne’s cottage’, a crofting house in the traditional style with a ‘bat and ben’ rooms i.e. a room either side of the front door. Last lived in by Mary Anne in the 1960s she had crofted alone and left her little homestead to be used as a museum in her will. Sadly it wasn’t opened when we passed by, but the exterior was lovely. Sadly there was a lot of ruined crofting houses along the road that hadn’t had the same love and care as little Mary Anne’s cottage; replaced by some less than romantic 70s bungalows!
As well as the quaint little bothy houses, the fields were edged with paving slabs owing to the unique geology, with fields, and our campsite, edged this way all the way to Thurso.
At Thurso, we enjoyed a tapas meal in an old Chapel over looking the port of Scrabster with the vehicle ferries were loaded for the crossing to Orkney. Filled up on oysters, calamari and peppers we made our way along the coastal footpath of Thurso.
A morning stop via the bike shop (super friendly) with better paper maps, further tools for Robbie’s problematic kickstand (which had clicked against his wheel for the last few days); followed by a tour of the towns bakeries (Black cake – fruitcake wrapped in pastry). We departed via the most Northern distillery (and likely the last one until we are near Glasgow). Relatively new the range was great and with the absence of any other tourists (and the only ones had arrived by bike) we were allowed to have some tastings and stocked up our miniature collection – currently the slightly peaty one is our favourite.
Pedalling_Patagonia 