Caithness & North Coast of Scotland

Traveling in the far north of Scotland is an experience you are unlikely to ever forget.

The first impression you get is of a sense of space and vast openness. This is big country, with wide skies that go on forever and dramatic seascapes The majestic moors merge westwards into rugged craggily peaks. You simply must witness the spectacular skyline of Ben Loyal by Tongue. There is a sense of solitude here that you simply can't find anywhere else, except for maybe Iceland.

I arrived here in the town of Wick in early August, when the sun doesn't go down until after 9 and even though it is summer, the breeze that blows off of the sea can be quite brisk. The evenings can get quite chilly here too, so come prepared. I was going to walk along the moors in the highlands, starting out in Wick and walking through John O'Groats and Thurso, before finally making the long walk to Tongue.

The first stages are pretty easy to do in a day, with lots of time left over to spend in the local pub meeting the residents of these fascinating little towns. Walking along these moors, you half expect to see a werewolf or another mystical creature, but the truth is that you rarely see anyone. When you do run into a local, expect to stop and have a conversation, as these are a talkative lot. They also know this country like the back of their hand, so don't be afraid to ask for advice. There are trails and small roads all across the coast here, and I would have walked right past John O Groat if it had not been for me running into a place ironically called "The Last House". From there it was just a short walk to Hamnavoe Bed&Breakfast where I ended up for a couple of days. You can actually get a ferry here to the Orkney Islands, but I wasn’t quite ready for that yet.



The next part of my journey was to Thurso, and I had planned to do this walk in a day. I guess I kind of overestimated my ability, and even with a short cut past St. Johns Loch, it was getting really late when I arrived in Castletown. Late, and I was exhausted. I dropped down at The Castletown hotel, had a meal and slept until midday. When you walk along these moors, there is so much to see, so much to take in, that you sometimes forget to breath. I made it to Thurso the next day in just about an hour. Here I decided to rest up, drink with the locals and plan the last bit of my trip. I spent a few days staring out at the Orkney Islands, watching insane people surf in ice cold water and visiting a nuclear power station, which is such a bizarre thing to do in such wild countryside.



I wasn’t in a huge hurry to get on with the rest of my journey. The truth is that I was a little intimidated by it. I was heading into open country, and though there are people about, hotels and inns are far and few between. I planned to break my journey i into 3 nights, thinking I would find a guesthouse or inn along the way.. I would walk to Tongue (yes, that’s really the name) and take the postbus to Larig. In these remote parts of Scotland, there are no public busses, so you literally hitch a ride with the post man.



Photo: Tongue, Highland, by Florian Fuchs

For two days I wandered slowly across this land of peat bogs, lochs and rivers. It was easy enough to find food and shelter, but to be safe I struck up a conversation with any person that came across. You can never have too much information. On the last day of my journey I was approaching Tongue and I heard the very distinct sound of bagpipes in the distance. This was completely surreal in the somewhat stark countryside here. Intrigued, I followed the sound to it’s source, where I met an older guy standing by his car playing away on this very weird instrument. I think he was as surprised to see me as I was him. We had a chat and he explained that his wife hated the sound of it, and so he would drive out into the wilds and play once or twice a week. I asked him if I could have a go, after all, I had never even seen one of these up close before. He explained to me how I first had to have a chantor (or something to this effect) and then use the finger rings. So my debut performance, on the bag pipes took place that day. The backdrop was perfect, I probably should have worn a kilt. But I must admit, my first attempt will have probably been my last as well. This is one seriously difficult instrument to play and my endeavor was a bit scary to say the least. But my new friend reminded me that the bag pipes were invented to sound like Evil Spirits coming out of the bogs, to put fear and trembling into the enemy so they would be demoralized before battle. Honestly, my performance would have done just that.

Author: Pan Martinez