From Ullapool to Cape Wrath

This was the fourth week of my route through the Highlands - going through some wonderful, dramatic, rough, land but quite hard in the conditions we had. So, on several days, we faced a mix of midges (black swarms assembled to greet you in the morning as you get out of the tent), clegs (biting horse flies that make it very difficult to stop on a sultry day), a quagmire under foot and streams that rose quickly and were difficult to cross. But this was meant to be wild country!
From Ullapool, we had a couple of beautiful days on good paths, moorland and riverside, but ending in a midgy camp in a forest. Then a hard day through dramatic scenery with clegs and quagmires to the comforts of Inchnadamh Lodge - an old shooting lodge restored as a hostel by a benevolent geologist. We didn't expect a shop for four days from this point, so had great delight in opening the food parcel which Beth had sent ahead. The hostel full of charming Dutch families!
Two wet days from Inchnadamh - the second on good stalkers paths on the Duke of Westminster's land. Met a traditional shooting party - ghillies leading ponies and wearing nothing but tweed and worsted cloth in the pouring rain.
We came down off the hills to the little estate village of Achfary and met up with Stephen there - Beth and I were soaked and cold, the stream looked as though it was ready to burst its banks and we were very grateful that Stephen had been able to get the offer of use of the stables to eat our tea - and have a wee dram- before we went to our tents.
Beth took the bus next day - she'd definitely got too cold the day before- but Stephen and I had a rough country walk on a gem of a day to meet up with her again at the Rhichonich hotel.
Two days to the Cape now! The first started on the lanes in drizzle and then down the five miles of track to the wide sweep of Sandwood Bay - probably the grandest and most remote beach on mainland Britain. The rain had stopped and we dawdled on the beach. But we were heading for a bothy northwards and the Sandwood river was running fast. It wasn't deep, but all the stones were smooth and loose, and both Stephen and I fell in, only Beth was wise. So wet shorts and a wet camera to end the day at Strathceallach bothy.
Three streams to cross and a firing range fence to climb on the last cross country day to Cape Wrath, but the water's down and no great difficulties. Sweeping moors nd sea cliffs. And arrival at Cape Wrath? Sounds strange but more a feeling of quiet satisfaction than high triumph - and, I realise now, pretty damn tired! Great, though, to be able to have the whole chain of the journey from Cornwall in mind and memory. And, yes, after the Cape, there's only ocean, big ocean boats rounding this far corner of our island and a misty sea.
There's a small cafe in the old lighthouse cottages and a low key tourist business to shuttle tourists ten miles on the military road from the Kyle of Durness ferry. I had my brief moment as a Cape celebrity - the man who had walked here! We'd planned to catch the minibus in the morning, but that was the day of the Durness Highland Gathering, so no minibus- so our final stage involved a 6a.m. start and 10 mile walk to catch the only ferry of the day to Durness, a visit to the Highland Games and the long journey home.
So mission complete and very, very wonderful it's been. Many, many thanks to all who sponsored me and to all who joined me on part of the journey. It could be some days before I get in touch by email to collect sponsor money and send my thanks to all who sponsored and all who joined me on the walk- but I include, for now, a big thankyou to you all.