Day 3 - NC500 Trip Proper Begins

I had a lovely undisturbed sleep on the top bunk in my dorm. I awoke at 6.15am to the American packing his stuff up and heading out for the day.

Whilst the two French lads snored gently, I loaded up all my next set of places to visit on my SatNav. Unfortunately I went too far and started deleting the first ones I had entered, so I had to start all over again.

I gingerly climbed down from my top bunk for a shower. My leg is still very painful, but I refuse to let it ruin my trip. The weather is looking much brighter today and my initial thoughts are to stay for 2 nights on a campsite near Wick, but things could change!!

Yesterday I saw a pine martin or something similar. It was chestnut brown with a black tipped tail. I obviously couldn’t take a photo of it because I was speeding towards it at 60mph, it did a little dance in panic in the road then dived back into the undergrowth.

Talking of photos, you may notice that my photos are more crap than usual. This is because my decent camera is now knackered and will join the other 6 in the camera graveyard on the windowsill in the conservatory. I have resorted to using my battered Olympus Tough camera with such a scratched lens that I’m amazed it takes any photos at all. I have occasionally taken a photo with my phone, but I need to try and save the battery and they often turn out blurred.

After resting my leg for as long as possible, I finally checked out of the Bunk Inn just after 9am. It was a lovely sunny morning and my first stop was Urquhart Castle just a couple of miles down the road. The car park was already busy, so I parked up in the nearer empty coach park and hobbled along to a viewpoint back down the road. I took my photo and returned to discover 4 coaches had in the meantime arrived. I sneaked out quickly, weaving through the hordes of coach trippers disembarking from their vehicles.

I followed the northern shore of Loch Ness in a South-Westerly direction (if that makes sense) to Invermoriston, that had a very nice bridge. I continued on to Fort Augustus at the tip of Loch Ness where the Caledonian Canal flowed into the Loch. It was a bit too touristy with numerous gift shops and Loch cruises.

I then continued my anti-clockwise circumnavigation of Loch Ness, passing Loch Tarff and other tiny Lochs until I reached the car park for the Falls of Foyers. I decided to test my gammy leg out with a 200 metre walk to the viewpoint for the upper falls. I limped, not hobbled down the steps to see the quite impressive waterfall.

Apparently the Falls of Foyer are one of Scotland’s finest waterfalls. They consist of 2 waterfalls, the upper falls with a drop of 46 feet and the lower falls that drop 98 feet. I only found this out when writing my blog that I had only seen the mini one!!!

Feeling chuffed that my leg was feeling slightly better, I continued on to Dores, the location of Loch Ness Beach. It was well worth a refreshment stop either from the Dores Inn or Ness Coffee. There was also the eccentric Nessie Hunter caravan.

This was my final stop around Loch Ness before heading further north to Strathpepper. I wasn’t entirely sure why I was going there, but I had identified it as a place to visit. It turned out to be a leafy Victorian spa town surrounded by wooded hills. As I rode through the Main Street it appeared to be just twee coffee shop. I didn’t stop.

Next was Dingwall, a town and a royal burgh. I have no idea what that means, but I found a Tescos and had myself a Big Breakfast and coffee. Despite it apparently being 1000 calories, it was just what the doctor ordered and I felt invigorated and ready to crack on with my trip. After fuelling up I continued without really knowing what Dingwall had to offer.

I followed the A9 (the North Coast 500), but soon took an ‘off the beaten track’ detour to Portmahomack. My theory is ‘if it’s there to be seen, then I need to see it’s AND wow was I glad to see it. It was a delightful little fishing harbour and beach. I took a few rubbish photos and moved on.

I rode back towards Tain, then on, passing the Glen Morangie Distillery. It should be noted that the north-eastern coast of Scotland is Whiskey Country. I raced along the A836 (perfect motorcycling road) up to Bonar Bridge. I was expecting a bit more than just a bridge. Apparently the bridge was originally built over the River Carron in 1812 by Thomas Telford. It was the first of 3 bridges on this site, the most recent was built in 1973.

Less than wowed by Bonar Bridge, I headed down the A949 on the opposite side of the river to Dornoch. Dornoch felt like another tourist trap. There were tourists everywhere. Dornoch is famous for being the location of where the last witch to be executed in Scotland was boiled alive in hot tar in 1722. Her name was Janet Horne and she was executed, probably because her daughter’s hands and feet were deformed. A stone stands in a cottage to commemorate this. I found some signs but not the actual stone.

Dornoch is also famous for being the location of where Madonna and Guy Ritchie married in 2000. By this time I was distracted by the fact that my oil warning light had come on on my motorcycle. I started cursing myself for being too lazy to check my oil level before I left home.

I gingerly rode my bike north vowing to buy some motorcycle engine oil at the first opportunity. Sod’s Law, I rode and rode fearing that my engine would seize, but not a single garage materialised. After passing through a couple of coastal villages, including Duneobin Castle.

Eventually I arrived at Brora, that on it’s welcome sign it boasted that it had a petrol station amongst other highlights. I gratefully pulled into the garage, but motorcycle oil was not something they stocked. The mechanic researched my bike’s oil requirements and identified which oil I needed. I never knew there was such a thing, I thought engine oil was engine oil!!! He identified a possible shop in Thurso that may be able to help, but recommended I return to Inverness.

F**k that, I rode 200 metres up the road to a second garage. A mechanic offered his assistance. Then his mate got involved. He identified a motorcycle garage in Wick (where I was heading) that would be able to sort me out. Before I left we checked my oil level from the proper indicator on my bike. On its stand it showed as empty, but when I nervously stood the bike upright, it showed as only just under the level. I was ecstatic, I was given the green light to carry on to at least Wick. I never knew that only certain oils were suitable for my bike!!

I missed Whaligoe Steps and continued on to Wick. I rode into Wick River Campsite, where I reserved a non-electric pitch for 2 nights (I want a rest from packing up my gear every day). I was allocated pitch 19 nearest to the river. I set my whole camp up in less than 30 minutes. It was now 6pm. It is a delightful setting.

I walked (note not limped) alongside the river into the town and found a Co-op, where I bought a 2.25l of Chilean Merlot. I returned to camp and started my blog. I relocated to the picnic area where I wrote this blog, whilst being attacked by midges. Note to self put the jungle juice on early!!

My entertainment for the evening, was two drunk Scottish women, who were gobbing off sufficiently that their husbands eventually sent to bed. On the downside, I was attacked by a swarm of midges until I managed to douse my head in Jungle spray.

Song of the Day - Burn The Castle by New Model Army.Read more