Durness

This morning we were a little worried about Marge. She is dripping from her chassis, and our water tank level is slowly dropping. Where's it coming from Marge?  By the way, you're becoming more famous, we have told so many people on this trip about you that your fan base has increased. For Marge's new followers we must explain that Margery (Marge) our campervan is named after Angela's late mother who was good fun, cheeky, a little critical and sometimes risqué. The blog is written by Angela with comments by Marge that Angela thinks she would say. Hope that's clear, otherwise yes, it's a blog that sometimes doesn't make sense to people.

Before leaving this morning, we left a donation in the box. Thank you, East Strathy, for providing the toilet and washing up area in the lovely log cabin. We wish there were more places like this. 

Today we travelled further along Scotland's north coast. A winding undulating road across a moorland of ferns of russet and heather long gone over. We were heading for Ceannabeinne beach, home of the most northly zip wire in the U.K. You going on it? Not a chance Marge. The roads were busy with vans despite being late in the season.

On the road towards Tongue, we stopped on the hill to photograph Ard Neakie, a mound in Loch Eriboll connected to the land by an umbilical cord of sand. Ard Neakie is said to be one of the most photographed places in Scotland. Down below we could see many sheep blocking the road. Perhaps their demonstration was too many vehicles travelling the north coast 500 route.

Arriving at Ceannabeinne beach for a late lunch, the zip wire despite the weather being fine was closed. Lucky escape there. We had read on the internet that the parking area across the road from the beautiful sandy surfing beach was a perfect overnight stop.

Well not tonight. A young man in his thirties with a ratty old van, engine running and sounding like a bag of nails, with loud bassy music playing whilst high on ganja was not our chosen neighbour. John spoke to him and the engine was switched off, the owner explaining it was his own handywork, and atomic. when the engine later restarted we ate lunch, took a walk and left, as everybody did. We were a little annoyed that one person could be so inconsiderate, but then we also thought perhaps he had issues and we shouldn't judge.

We were close to Durness the most north westerly village in Scotland. But also, a bit of a destination on the NC500. So much so that the local people are fed up with so many vans stopping there. Passing Smoo caves which we visited last year we began looking for a free suitable stop. It soon became apparent that it was unlikely. To park alongside the nearby loch as we did last year is now fifteen pounds a night, the payment collected by a highland council ranger. So, Sango Sands Oasis it had to be. What is this strange place? A campsite Marge. Of course, it's been so long. Splashing out a bit, aren't you? Not out of choice Marge, but at least here we get to use a 'proper' shower, empty the toilet and waste and top up your water tank yet again all for twenty pounds, better value than a fifteen-pound lay-by. Plus, you get to live on the edge literally. What do you think of the view?

Leaving Marge to settle in (don't get used to such luxury Marge), we dodged the rain showers to explore the beach below. Do something every day that scares you. Well today Angela we're going to step it up a notch. Do something every day that petrifies you. Come on it's only a walk down a cliff. Bloody fools. We can hear you, Marge. The petrified box ticked we returned to the van.

The award-winning beach sands were soft beneath our feet. dramatic rocks of marble and red sandstone repelled the incoming tide and a rainbow appeared through the mist over towards the headland. Then back to Marge for a warm drink stopping to chat to our young neighbours' as they finished putting up their roof tent.   

Meanwhile did you check the wind direction? Yes, Marge it's blowing from the north, you may shudder a little.