Last night I sat in the lounge chatting to the cyclists who were in the dorm beside my room. I had thought the ‘Scottish Soldier’ theme that has been running since I arrived in Perth had stopped, but I noticed that one of the men was using toothpaste like tubes with food in them.
Noting my interest he gave me a couple of them and told me they were army rations. He had done 28 years service in the British Army and since he left, he worked with army homeless personnel so still had access to some rations. He said he related to them well because he too also suffered from Post Traumatic Stress (PTS) and even as he was talking he was becoming emotional. He took up cycling just two years ago and now does long distance rides and says that helps “get it all out of his system”. He said that in Afghanistan you could see the Taliban, but unless they were literally shooting at you, you could not shoot at them. Like all the rest of his unit he was vaccinated against bubonic plague and anthrax. Afterwards, once it was discovered that these two should never be given together, all their medical records miraculously disappeared. We had a long discussion about the M.O.D and the lack of aftercare for discharged men once they have left the army, many of whom have mental health problems as a result of active service and others who have always been a bit on the edge. I was able to add something to the conversation because I met some of these men when they ended up in prison. Prison is a safe place for men who are already institutionalised, used to being told what to do and having the basics done for them. I feel very strongly that the M.O.D has a duty of care that they are neglecting to honour, not just with these men who have left, but apparently failing with new recruits too. They keep reiterating in the press that lessons have been learnt but I see no evidence to back up their assertions.
It’s raining today.
This morning I discovered that four men arrived late last night. They are the members of The Budapest Cafe Orchestra, a band I have been following round Scotland and just missing each time they are performing. This morning I chatted to Christian, the jazz violinist from Edinburgh. He and his band mates are freelance musicians, and the others come from London and Brighton. They tour Scotland every year and do about twenty gigs.
I now know where they are playing tonight but sadly it’s too far away for me to go to and to get back here. He mentioned a few interesting places worth seeing this morning
- A village called Applecross (for later on)
- Lochinvar
- Achins Bookshop - the most remote bookshop in the UK near Lochinver
- the lighthouse and cafe at Cape Wrath
He promised that the route would be as spectacular as it was yesterday. And he was right. Everyone I have met today, Australian, Germans, Italians and Brits all agreed that from John o’Groats to Thurso and down to Ullapool is totally awe-inspiring scenery, even in the rain.
I set off for Cape Wrath only to discover that you can’t get there without going on a ferry, and the next ferry was not leaving til 12.30pm (two and a half hours time). So regretfully I gave up on that idea and went on towards Lochinver.
I covered about 120 miles today mostly on single track roads and met the real Highland Monster and it’s not this one
How do you distinguish this particular monster from similar species on the road?
- He is driving the biggest, high sided camper van he could hire, regardless of the fact that the only passengers are him and his missus and these roads are decidedly unsuited to such an oversized vehicle in the first place..
- Monsters tend to collect together at beauty spots like elephants at a watering hole leaving no room for anyone else to park or to see the view.
- They have no interest in learning how to negotiate single track roads, preferring to advance in spite of the fact they are two yards from a designated passing place and I will have to reverse half a miles
- They believe there is no reverse gear on a camper van
- They have no manners when you have reversed half a mile for them, and don’t acknowledge you in any way.
- Unlike their much safer cousins the German camper van driver man, they do not carry bicycles on their rear, they carry the strap-line www.hireamonstercampermanvan.co.uk
- Unlike the German/Dutch/Swiss campervan drivers they do not stick meticulously to the left hand side of infrequent two way roads. They straddle the central white line demonstrating that although they have visited three distilleries this morning, they are still perfectly safe to drive.
- The Monster will not have noticed that he has crushed five lycra clad long distance cyclists in the process.
- Monster camper van driver man loves driving and will do it all again in Cornwall in July.
In the interests of transparency I need to confess that I seriously considered doing this whole trip in a small camper van myself. The one I had in mind was the retro VW version that sadly is now selling for ridiculous amounts on ebay, and thus totally out of my price range. Having witnessed the proliferation of the Monsters on the roads in the North and North West Highlands of Scotland, I can also see why it is an option. Until I got here I had no idea that there would be no accommodation for miles because there are no towns or houses on route. There are very few shops and fewer petrol stations. Scotland has no such thing as a Trespass law. Unless somewhere specifically says you can’t, a camper van can pull up and stay absolutely anywhere in Scotland. And they are doing just that.
Rant over and I feel so much better having got that off my chest.
While sitting in a passing space waiting for a couple of bikers to pass by, I spotted this fountain built into a rock face
It had been donated by the surveyor who helped build the road in recognition of the kindness he had been shown by residents during his time working there. The date was 1883
Lochinver is only a small town but in comparison to Durness and Scorie is a metropolis. It certainly has more accommodation, and three places to eat or get tea.
A charming woman in the visitor centre explained the number of German, Dutch and Italian tourists here. She said they had been coming since 1950, many every year since and also bringing their children and grandchildren. They had a real attachment for this part of Britain because they had been here as prisoners of war. Hence their good manners and knowledge of how to manage single track driving conditions. (I learnt to drive on single track roads in Scotland in the 1970’s. Before then I could not reverse. I had to learn pretty quickly.) She was pleased so many tourists were coming to the area but also concerned that the promoters of North Coast 500 did not seem aware that there was no infra structure in place to cope with the numbers of the wear and tear on the roads themselves. It will only get worse now that 'Top Gear' or its clone are planning to feature this road trip and several high performance cars are using it in their advertising.
This whole area known as Assynt is particularly interesting. On February 1st1993 the communities living here successfully managed to reverse history. They staged a community buy out and raised enough money to purchase the whole estate which covered 44, 000 acres of hills, forest mountains , lochs and included 12 little townships. They have formed a trust, running and working the land for the benefit of the local people rather than being tenants of a feudal landlord. They are encouraging crafting again so that the land is worked and small agricultural enterprises
My last port of call today was to Achins bookshop – the remotest bookstore in the Uk in a tiny place just outside Lochinver called Inverkirkaig
It was certainly remote. No idea how they make any kind of living unless its the fact they also run a cafe selling good cake and the Inverkirkaig falls are just a further 3 miles along the river and up the glen.
I drove back along the coast to Durness, an even steeper narrower road and came across a lovely general store in Drumbeg
Again the views on this road were beyond belief. I found a wonderful spot to scatter some of my mothers ashes
and then drove on to the bunkhouse looking forward to a hot shower... Fat chance
They had let the whole building except my bunk, to 17 long distance cyclists and their four support team staff. They were all totally exhausted having done an endurance test of 117 miles on those mountain roads with the wind in their faces all the way. As one said it was like cycling in dry sand. They needed the showers more than I did. Two young German lads joined us all having cycled a mere 19 miles. They didn’t utter a word. I think they felt intimidated.
Beers and pizzas were produced and the TV switched on for some important football match so I made my excuses and sloped off to bed.
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