Could you sleep for 12 hours on an inflatable pad only 51cm wide, the width of a PC keyboard?
It transpires I can, in the long night, with only stars for illumination, cocooned in a warm sleeping bag. I tried to read in the dark, resorting to a John Grisham page-turner on my iPhone Kindle app to keep me awake — I’ve not read any of his novels since enjoying The Firm over 30 years ago — but the day’s exertions won.
Not surprisingly, I feel refreshed, waking to another fine day and a tasty breakfast of oats with raspberries. I don’t get breakfast in bed at home. Of course, there’s the small matter of boiling water and pouring it into a bag of freeze-dried food; not exactly served on a tray.
My OS app suggests a route through a private caravan site. The gate, topped with a nice touch of barbed wire, is unlocked, so I push it open and step inside. What’s the worst that can happen? It won’t be the first time I plead innocence when confronted. However, the place is deserted, with a handful of static caravans dotted along the shore. It’s a beautiful spot despite the Stalag 17 fences. Deer roam at will.
Leaving the site, things start to go wrong when I hit a locked deer gate, forcing me to backtrack to an alternative footpath sign and work my way along the shore to the other side of the fence.
I’m not sure why there’s a deer fence as they are everywhere, watching my faltering progress.
Another deer fence runs down the hillside. At the T-junction where the two fences intersect, I can see a stile on the other side, which I would have reached if I’d followed the first fence at the locked gate. I can’t face retracing my steps, so I head down to the sea. Thankfully, a collapsed fence and unlocked gate allow me to rejoin the correct path.
After a strenuous climb to a hilltop cairn, Sanna Bay appears in the distance.
The path rises and falls along the pretty rocky coastline. A wild swimmer tells me there are seals in the next bay, but I can’t see them.
Sanna Beach is stunning, shared with a handful of hardy souls. I’ve read reports of landowners and residents hostile to camper vans. It’s easy to see how this place could be overrun and spoiled. I’d already decided not to camp here, respecting local wishes.
From the beach, I could cut across the moorland to my destination cove, but I’m keen to take the long way round, following a road inside an extinct volcano.
I’m surrounded by a ring dyke, formed of magma that has intruded into faults at the base of the crater and is more resistant to erosion than the surface features.
The road loops inland and back towards the sea, changing to a track passing the ruins of the Glendrian crofting township.
The first settlers were recorded in 1619, and the last inhabitants left in the 1940s.
The track ends, replaced by a rough path, making for a tough end to the day. A deep stream runs to my right. Despite the OS app showing a crossing further down, I don’t trust it and leap over when the opportunity arises. This is a mistake, as the far side is overgrown and boggy. Later, I reach the easier crossing point. I should have more faith.
A branch off the main path, although I hesitate to call it that, leads to a gate in a deer fence and down a narrow gully to the shore. There are rocks under the grass, so it’s hard to push the tent pegs in, and I’m on a slope, but it will have to do as the light is fading.
Another tranquil pitch spot with magical views.
Total distance: 5,459 miles.
An excellent day. Was unaware of the crater, very obvious on satellite imagery.
Deer fences can be a real pain at times.
There are more and more of them springing up. For a good cause, but it means a lot of searching for the nearest gate. To be fair, if I’d looked at my OS app it did show the correct route to navigate round this one. Sometimes I just like to follow my nose. 🤷
Amazing photos from an amazing place Tony. I’ve been trying to work out the logistics of this section. I don’t fancy a there-and-back walk like Ruth did which always seems somehow wasteful of my energy, and I’m definitely not wild camping like you do – I might be younger than you but I’m not nearly so hardy! So far the best bet seems my electric bike from Fascadale to Kilchoan, 7 miles over a mountain which I’m unsure it’ll manage. Oh well, it’s a long way off yet, I might be dead before I get there 😊.
Not so hardy? The man who wades across estuaries? You will be swimming round the coastline by the time you get up there! 😉
That crater looks impressive from the air! Did you get a sense of it from the ground? Stream and river crossings always unnerve me a little after I took a tumble a few years back
Yes, once you take the road in, you are encircled by hills.
I leaped across a small stream on the Artic Circle Trail and tottered on the edge on the far side before the weight of my pack pulled me back in up to my waist!
My worst nightmare!
It’s nice to be accompanied by deer companions! 🙂
This is the bit of the Ardnamurchan peninsula that I planned to do but, on the day, skipped in the face of horizontal rain! Nice to see what it would have looked like! Not that it would have looked like that in the conditions, looks like yours were way better!
Haha! Yes, that’s not the place to be hiking in bad weather. Just a tad exposed.