The end of the end to end ... sunsets, signs, stacks and silhouettes

The penultimate evening of the walk was spent in Dunnet Bay, waiting for the rain to stop so that we could emerge from the tents and drink whisky on the sand, looking out to a misty silky sea, the line of the horizon indistinguishable as lone herons crossed the grey and lone fishermen drifted (first photo).
The final day began in bright sunshine and continued so as I felt myself walking faster and faster. It was a kind of involuntary reaction to the anticipation. We reached John O'Groats just after midday, in sun and with huge views of the Orkney Islands and Stroma, and seals in the bay. Photos by the sign were taken and after a good break the final mile and a half up to Duncansby Head felt like the proper and stunningly beautiful end it had promised to be. The Stacks of Duncansby were crystal clear surrounded by glimmering water and the sea birds circled to welcome us. We sat and watched the view, with whisky, and silently were grateful for being alive in that moment. No orcas unfortunately, even though I looked very hard!
Camping by the edge of the sea in JOG campsite we were treated to seals swimming about in the bay, a rainbow following a passing shower, lighthouses as the sun slowly sank and the most vivid colourful sunset.

And now we are in busy Moffat, half way back south. I am still trying to believe I walked over 1200 miles, in 81 days (that doesn't include rest days and injury days!). I've written a journal every night and maybe that will be written up more fully. There are thousands of photos. And more memories and people and gratitude. I have survived quite lightly, for which I am thankful! My feet are fine. My knees now keep me awake at night though! They're fine if I'm walking but otherwise the pain is pretty unbearable! And one day I may get the feeling back in my shoulders ...!
Having walked the length of Scotland and today travelled fast (ish) back south through it, it is still a place of mystery. We chose a slightly different route in the end to stay sane, and safe. But again and again I was silenced by the vast wildernesses.
To travel in slow motion over such a distance is to see places and people in a completely different light. I hope it's changed me, in good ways. And I hope one day soon I'll be able to put that into words.
I am also immensely grateful for the support of friends and family and for all those who have donated to BASR. I have had the freedom to do this, which in itself makes me more privileged than billions of people. And the people of Bethlehem and Palestine need solidarity more than ever. So, thank you.
For now, sleep, travel, and then life will become different again.

The end of the end to end ... sunsets, signs, stacks and silhouettes

A Tunnocks teacake by Dounreay, another end to end walker and his owner, and views of the Old Man of Hoy

Yesterday at the campsite in Melvich another walker turned up, Andy and his dog Alfie, also walking End to End. A rare sight. He's walking north to south though so has only just started. The thing is, he's done it before, south to north. Mad, but also hugely admirable and a good chap. His blog is: http://theaaaway.blogspot.co.uk.
We are seeing a lot of cyclists now as they all converge, but still only one other walker.
The Melvich campsite was in such a lovely spot and it was a treat to be able to sit out in the evening unbothered by midges and wrapped up in layers against the northern cold. The first photo is essential Scottish walking kit. You probably don't need to spend too much time guessing what's in the bottle. (And I've carried it since Fort William!).
This morning we woke to a midge free clear bright sunshiney day. The day got warmer and Orkney was so very clear across the sea. The second photo is of Orkney and if you look really carefully you'll see the Old Man of Hoy to the left of the island. On the route today we went past Dounreay and a well placed shop and I had to have a teacake before I leave Scotland. So good! As we came into the outskirts of Thurso we stopped for a drink of water and a car stopped and backed over the pavement towards us. The window was wound down, and the driver, an elderly, slightly deaf Irish woman, bellowed out that she'd drive us down to town as we looked tired. So we piled ourselves in and took a white knuckle ride down to the sea front while she talked nineteen to the dozen. What an angel.
Two days to go ...

Wilderness, old men in empty places, the power of tea in a stranger's kitchen, and the sea of the north

I have reached the north coast!! This is a huge milestone and provoked a loud cheer from me half way through mile 22 today when the sea came into view. I have now officially walked from the south coast of the UK to the north coast. We are in a place called Bettyhill (was she the sister of Benny?) after a route rethink due to bad weather and midges and supplies ... Still four days to John O'Groats. But only four days!
The first photo is sunset over Loch Shin at Lairg, two nights ago. The following day began grey and cold and got colder as we walked further and further into the vast empty moor of Sutherland. It really is unimaginably empty, surrounded by distant strangely shaped mountains. We reached the famous Crask Inn by 1.30 (2nd photo) and had homemade soup, local beer, tea and biscuits, whilst chatting to various old chaps who seemed to all be helping out ... perhaps had come in from the cold and never gone out again. One, a retired science teacher, delighted in picking blackcurrants from the oasis of their surprisingly thriving garden. On we went after this hospitable and unique experience out into the darkening moor, the massive Ben Klibreck looming out of the cloud to our right. We reached Alltnaharra by 5.30 (21 miles done) and after a time in the bar of the strange hotel, watching the sheets of rain come through, chanced our luck with camping on the tiny field of the tiny school. No one moved us on. It was a foul night. My tent flooded for the first time. Not a pleasant experience. We awoke to drizzle and low cloud and cold wind and were walking by 7.15 this morning. The first two hours along Loch Naver were stunning but gloomy. When we stopped for a break at about 10 though a little gap of blue sky appeared and within ten minutes we were in sunshine. We intended to wild camp again in Strath Naver tonight as it's 23 miles from Alltnaharra to the coast. As we were walking, looking for patches of comfortable grass this afternoon, a lady appeared at the doorway of a small croft house just above the Strathnaver road. She called over that we must be tired and wouldn't we like some tea. So into her small kitchen we went where she brewed us tea and gave us shortbread. Her son was there too. And we talked about walking and life in Strathnaver and multi-millionaire landowners, and were re-energised enough to complete the 23 miles to the coast. There are some truly and genuinely generous and wonderful people in the world.
So the 3rd photo is of the first view of the sea, and the 4th of this evening's sunset. It was a real moment seeing the sea. It brought to mind beginning in May back in Cornwall, in high winds and when the nights were longer and the days colder, and the journey in between.
But, there are still four days to go so no time to be too reflective yet! I'm very glad we came this way. And I'm very glad I've had company the last few days too.
Here's hoping the sea breeze will keep the midges away ....