A 7 am knock at my door. In the absence of a dining room, the owner wheels in a cooked breakfast trolley. Is he wearing pyjamas?
“I don’t get this at home.”
My book for this trip is Between the Sunset and the Sea by Simon Ingram, an entertaining and informative account of hiking 16 mountains in Britain. Chapter four opens with the death of three army cadets in 1960 on Snowdon’s notorious Crib Goch — not the best choice of reading this morning. The John o’Groats Trail website describes today’s section:
There is a risk of death from falling off cliffs along most of this stage. The path is narrow between the fence and and high cliffs at Ellen’s Geo.
Snow, ice, narrow paths, cliffs. What can go wrong?
The bus driver drops me off at the side road leading to Whaligoe Steps.
“Be careful on those steps in this weather. They’re treacherous!”
The 365 steps snaking down to the small harbour are ice-free, covered only in light snow that’s starting to melt. The icy road leading here was more dangerous. I don’t envy the fisherwomen who hauled baskets of herring up to be sold in Wick.
After exploring a stone jetty and the remains of a building, the long climb back up the steps ends with possibly the grumpiest sign I’ve seen from a farmer. Enjoy your inheritance tax.
I return briefly to the main road before cutting across the fields via a path marked on the OS map as leading to the Mains of Ulbster. The path is a myth, blocked by barbed wire fences, several dense sections of bush reaching over my head — not difficult — and a stream-filled gully. Forcing my way through the bushes, a branch springs back into my nose, drawing blood — another scar to remind me of my stubbornness.
Finally cresting the hill, could there be a bleaker setting for a mausoleum?
The bolt slides across easily and the heavy door swings open.
Inside is surprisingly cosy, with thick stone walls and an old fireplace.
The nearby farmhouse offers sanctuary from another flurry of snow. Every abandoned building, tunnel and cave I pass has to be explored.
There are sheep droppings on the staircase. Not a place to spend the night. I’ve seen that corner in The Blair Witch Project.
I follow minor roads from the farmhouse to Sarclet Haven, remaining high on the cliff path to avoid disturbing around 20 seals with pups on the shore.
The path north winds in and out to circumvent the massive geos cutting into the landscape.
The cliffs are fantastic and I creep carefully down a slope to the edge of another outcrop for a better view. You could follow a shorter path only 20 feet inland and miss all of this.
Stinging hailstones are never far away. I’m forced to turn my face away.
The final few miles offer a series of magnificent stacks and arches.
On the outskirts of Wick, The Trinkie is a natural seawater pool. Trinkie is the Scottish word for trench, and the pool was created in 1931 from part of a quarry.
It’s dark by the time I pass through a quarry and the docks to The Alexander Bain pub in the market square for a pint in the warmth. Sarclet Haven to Wick is one of the finest sections of coastline in Britain. How many times have I said that? Well, we have such a wonderful coastline.
Date of walk: Wednesday 20 November 2024.
Walk distance: 12 miles.
Total distance: 4,740 miles.
Postscript — Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition at the National History Museum
Sea of Imagination
The nature photographer Antonio Fernandez captures seawater crashing onto volcanic black sand in Iceland. The pools of seawater left in the depressions by the retreating waves glow bright green due to high concentrations of algae.
I agree, that is a brilliant section, though I had different weather conditions to you and saw different things.
https://bowlandclimber.com/2019/05/31/john-ogroats-trail-12-whaligoe-to-wick/
Nice to revisit it in the sunshine. Puffins! Lucky man. We may have stayed at the same B&B based on your description of the location and steep steps. I will have to catch up on the rest of your trail reports now.
What a wonderful word – trinkie- wonder if the Royal Scots regiment used it – not a trace of the horror of trench – loved the mausoleum – was there any information? Lovely pics as usual 😃
Thanks Patricia. Hard to imagine another word that lies a million miles away from a possible use. There may have been a small board by the graveyard wall, but the hailstones came down and I dashed inside! 🙂
Looks like challenging conditions, but very beautiful in that weather. I do remember the paths round there being difficult (I.E. not really existing), so it doesn’t sound like that has improved. I loved Whaligoe Steps very atmospheric, I sat there feeling the cliffs vibrate as each wave crashed in.
I also went to the Alexander Bain pub for a meal a few times when staying in that area. It was a Whetherspoon back then but not sure if it is now (they kept threatening to close it or sell it, not sure if they ever did).
I enjoyed the shelter from the wind at the bottom of Whaligoe Steps. It was possible to walk round to a shallow cave but I did not want to risk it in that weather.
The pub is no longer at Wetherspoons, so the beer choice is not great, but it was warm!
Hi Tony. I’ve really enjoyed all these throughout the year – so many interesting places on our doorstep. Thank you. Hope you have an enjoyable Christmas break! Would be good to catch up for a beer at some point
Hi Andrew. Lovely to hear from you. Have a good Christmas and a beer in the New Year sound excellent!
Looks like a wild bit of coastline Tony, and to have snow on the coast. I’ll check that book out you mentioned
It’s worth a read. He’s amusing, if unbelievably disorganised. I’m already planning to make sure I cover some of the mountains in the book as part of my coastal walk, although some are so iconic that I would have climbed them anyway. It makes me even more excited about NW Scotland.
I’m sure you will love that section 😀