John o' Groats

JOG is a rather tacky place but we had to go there and stand by the famous signpost, didn't we? It isn't the kind of end to a journey you would want, so good for us that we were aiming a little further north on our trip. It isn't even the most northerly point on the mainland - that award goes to Dunnet Head. JOG is just a tourist trap, really. And an anti-climax. Go to Dunnet Bay instead: it's beautiful!
Mark.

Hairy faces

After nearly 2 weeks on the road, Mark and Rich had grown considerably more facial hair than they started out with. For Rich at least, this is something of a novelty. But will he keep it?

Along the north coast

On the road just after 9am on a lovely, sunny morning on day 12 of our adventure. The first 20 odd miles were up and down over spectacular, wild cliff scenery with sweeping views of the sea, mountains and distant Orkney islands. After we entered Caithness and passed Dounreay nuclear establishment, the land flattened out into fields of crops with big slabs of local stone edging the fields. Finally we swept down into Thurso - a surprisingly attractive place - and met up with my brother Paul's wife Elspeth's sister Cath's former university flatmate Carol, who I'd never met before! Carol was lovely and most helpfully offered to store our paniers in her car while we rode the 45 mile round trip to John O' Groats. Thanks Carol you saved us a lot of extra hard work!

Up the middle

After Dornoch we cut inland and struggled into a strong wind for 15 miles to the lonely village of Lairg, where we stopped for tea just as the weather changed. We rode for 40 miles in cloud and occasional drizzle across wild, desolate country almost devoid of trees except for forestry plantations. In time, we descended the now empty valley of Strathnaver, whose Gaelic-speaking people were forcibly evicted by the landowners in the widespread "clearances" of the early 1800s, to make room for sheep grazing. Many of them settled in Canada; hence "Nova Scotia". This felt like a place tinged with sadness and we had grey, brooding weather to match.
Mark.

The top!

We reached the north coast at Bettyhill at about 7pm and checked in - elated - to the Far Bay Inn (or FBI). After dinner we took a short stroll to the fabulous, empty beach. It was 10pm but still plenty of daylight and amazing skies reflected in the waves and off the wet sand. We stood and reflected on the enormity of our achievement - almost exactly 1,000 miles of cycling to this point - and we also wished Simon could be there to share it with us. But he'll get up here soon. Tomorrow we ride east along the coast to John O' Groats!
Mark.

Tain and Dornoch

We landed from the ferry at Nigg to find a national bike time trial in progress so we had fast-moving company for the first few miles. Our first stop was the handsome town of Tain, the home of Glenmorangie single malt whisky, for provisions. Then we crossed the bridge over the beautiful Dornoch Firth and followed the shore to the tiny sandstone burgh of Dornoch with its cathedral and old jail. It was another quiet little gem of a town and worth the slight detour on this gorgeous morning.
Mark.

Day 11 Cromarty ferry

Woke to blue skies and sunshine. The first ferry was due at 8am so we agreed to be out in time to get the one at 9am. When we arrived it was nowhere to be seen on either side of the Firth. Then some locals out by the harbour said the ferryman's mate had overslept after a night at the pub and it would leave in 20 mins after they had collected him. When it came it was fab - just room for one car to stand on a turntable so it could be spun to drive off the same way it came on. And the views back to Cromarty were superb. Nobody seemed to mind about the late start - it was that kind of place.
Mark.