One of the many pleasures of coastal walking is childlike weaving round incoming waves on a sandy beach. This happens less often than you might imagine, so it’s a real treat to enjoy a fine morning crossing Dunnet Bay.
The beautiful sand slowly gives way to red algae, shivers of the Red Weed from The War of the Worlds, although this bloom is harmless and a natural phenomenon. I don’t think I’d like to walk barefoot, though.
The beach stretches out behind me back to Dunnet Head.
Passing Castlehill Harbour, a cluster of old buildings surrounds a heritage centre. I’m tempted to explore the ruins, but four men sit in a car across the road, and that’s enough to put me off entering a dark building alone.
The heritage centre celebrates the history of flagstone production here from the early 1800s to the 1900s, before the arrival of concrete. Slabs paved The Strand in London. A short history trail ends at an old windmill.
Five hundred men were employed in the quarries. Some of their cottages remain.
The tide is out, revealing an expanse of flat rocks (“The Slates”) that are fun to explore.
One section may be tricky at high tide, requiring a little scrambling.
My enjoyment ends at Murkle Bay, where I can’t find a path out of the cove, reluctantly traipsing up a long farm road to join the A836. This is not pleasant as the road is busy, the cars are fast, and the verge is overgrown.
To preserve my sanity over the remaining few miles to Thurso, I turn to my Spotify Americana playlist. I’ve drifted into Southern Gothic and started to learn the banjo — the Devil’s a coming for ya!
I arrive at Thurso much later than expected, enjoying a comfy bed and hot shower in the Premier Inn. I’d normally explore the town, but none of the pubs sound great, so I eat at the hotel.
A day of two halves. A fine morning and a grim finish. It looks as though I missed a coast path out of Murkle Bay, but perhaps it’s more obvious hiking in the other direction. That’s the end of my short coast section. Tomorrow, I head to the Cairngorms in search of the Big Grey Man.
Total distance: 5,315 miles.
How were the slabs transported to London? And if you’re into the banjo try Sam Amidon – he cancelled his gig the other night at the Southbank – family emergency – so disappointed 😞
The slabs were transported by ship.
Sam is on my playlist. I’m on my journey home. I see he is playing at the Union Chapel in November so I might try and get a ticket. I saw Avi Kaplan there last month and loved the venue.
Yes it’s nice to start with a lovely beach walk. As you say there are surprisingly few coast walks where that is the case, particularly in northern Scotland. It is possible to walk closer to the coast between Thurso and Murkle bay as that is the way I went.
I agree about the lack of pubs in Thurso. Premier Inn though? That must be new. Such luxury – it wasn’t there when I walked this part of the coast. I had to make do with the “Weigh Inn Lodges” (think run-down, basic motel), at the A836/A9 junction.
The Premier Inn was surprisingly cheap. It must be a new addition
I enjoyed revisiting Barton Hollow. I really liked the Civil Wars and we went to see them, but something didn’t seem right – no spark. It must have been the last, or close to last, gig they did because a few days later they cancelled the rest of their tour and eventually split up. So that explained it! We also saw John Paul White solo at Celtic Connections one year. Other than that, nice walk pictures especially Dunnet Bay!
Wow! I did not think that many people would have heard of them let alone see them in concert. I love that track. I’m a bit worried that I’ve started to sing it as I hike. I may get some strange looks. 🤷🏻♂️
I think, like so many bands around that time, we probably saw them first on Jools Holland. The show doesn’t have the same inspirational effect now – maybe it’s his choice of band, maybe it’s that I’m getting older.