Halfway 15 -19 July 2016

Sally’ Birthday marked the halfway point of our adventure. From now on it was all downhill (geographically speaking) to a family reunion in December.

The weather forecast was for overcast conditions so we set off to retrace our route of 5 days ago. After a couple of hours it started to rain and blow. We got lucky and found a bus shelter along side the road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately the door faced away from the worst of it. We were cold but dry and we waited for an

hour or two until the rain and the wind eased. After lunch we pushed on to Betty Hill where we abandoned our target for the day and booked into the only accommodation we found find which was a very expensive bed and breakfast. ( There is a pattern forming here. We budgeted to do a lot of camping in Scotland but ended up doing lots of B&Bs instead.)

The first place we tried was full but she let us stay in her kitchen until her neighbour arrived home. Joan told us that she was not from that area. She grew up 4 kms away, but had lived in Betty Hill for 40 years. At our B&B I got out all our wet gear and dried it overnight in her utility room. After that I just went to sleep. The next day we had a cooked breakfast and headed off for Durness.

We never got there. It was appalling weather with massive hills and a gale force head wind. Most of the road was narrow single lane with passing bays every 50 metres. I had to take evasive action 3 times to avoid speeding drivers who tried to pass you head on, at speed, with a narrow gap. They decided that we had absolutely no right to be on the road and we had to get off the road to make way for them. Twice I fell off due to big holes I swerved in to. Another time I stood my ground and the driver had no alternative but to stop and let me pass. In retrospect I would have had a problem if he did not stop.

After 18 kms and 3 hours we stopped at a church in Tongue for afternoon tea. I was absolutely shattered. On the walls of the church hung posters. Every child baptised in the church was added to the roll of honour. They began in 1943 and 3 posters had already been filled up.

We met a lady whom we had bumped into at CUPS cafe in Scrabster the Monday before. She recognised us and gave us a free tea and

scone to warm up. Just what we needed. She was born in New Zealand but moved to Scotland in the 70s so we talked for about an hour before setting off for the Youth hostel. It was set beside a beautiful beach and reception was open so we booked in for a night and tried to dry out. http://www.tonguehostelandholidaypark.co.uk/

Next day was more of the same but we did have sun for about 30 minutes before the weather set in again. And it happened at a stunningly beautiful beach on a sea Loch. Great for the photos , but also good for the soul. The wind was not as strong so we made Durness by 3 pm.

Along the way I got forced off the road again but as I went to get back on my bike a complete idiot decided to pass me at 50 kmph without slowing down . He missed me by a good 3 inches (100 mm ) only because I leaned back out of his way. Both me the bike fell down the bank and I ended up in a patch of stinging nettle which left me rather sore and very shaken. After that I rode in the middle of the road and despite being parped at occasionally I made cars wait until the next passing lane – usually about 10 seconds away. 99% were happy to wait the 10 seconds. Even then another 2 nut cases went past us at high speed even though they had to drop their wheels off the road at the edge of a cliff. One slight misjudgement and his whole family would have been killed by the drop. Unbelievable.

The evening at the hostel was spent chatting to a Scotsman who had lived for several years in New Zealand and was in the shipping business. Some of the tales he told were fantastic. He was a real story teller and his Scottish lilt added to the occasion. The best was the tale about how he concussed himself while riding a bike out on his Island. He was taken to the local doctor for a check up but it was decided that he should go to a bigger hospital for X-rays and observation. He tells of a wonderfully friendly doctor on the Island, of the trip in the ambulance to the airfield. There he was met by a luxury jet ( his words) and flown to Glasgow and into a private terminal. Another ambulance took him to the hospital. He was treated like royalty all the way. Just as they arrived at the Accident and Emergency department the doctor whispered in his ear. “This is where it all turns to shit”. And it did. He had to wait overnight to get his X-rays and his check-up.

Groundhog day greeted us the next morning (18 July) and we had to decide whether to go - or stay and wait for a break in the weather. We stayed. Which was a blessing. In the morning we did some shopping

and then visited Smoo Cave http://www.smoocave.org/index.htm during a break in the weather. What an amazing place. The waterfall chamber is exhilarating to say the least. The cave is full of mist and attempts at flash photos were a failure.

While in the cave a man wearing a kilt came up to us and talked. He lived in NZ for many a year in St Heliers, a suburb of Auckland , about 25 minutes drive from my house. His wife had died and ( I presumed) he had returned to Scotland. He raved about the colour of the water ( black) and how pure it was. He must have been an expert on whisky as he explained to us that the colour of a wee dram is mostly dependant on the colour of the water they use. The more peat, the darker the colour. He had spent the previous evening with some friends sampling many different whiskies and had a 300 pound bill to pay at the end of it. It must have been a good night.

We walked a little out towards the coast and returned at noon. It was good timing as the wind really got up and down came the rain. I took the chance to write some postcards and some emails and do a bit of housekeeping.