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Walking Land's End to John o'Groats with Mark Moxon

Alness to Dornoch

Barry walking along the lane to Tain
Barry walking along the lane to Tain

It's taken me three days to realise it, but I'm actually enjoying myself again. The central canals, the West Highland Way and the Great Glen Way managed to grind my body down and take most of the fun out of the walking, but since leaving Inverness I've been gradually recovering and finally I think I'm back to normal. Today's walk might have been a long 20-mile hike along minor and major roads, but I loved every minute of it and have come away with some wonderfully warm memories of the northeast of Scotland.

Winding Lanes

Barry walking along the peaceful lanes to Tain
Barry walking along the peaceful lanes to Tain

Today's route stuck completely to the tarmac, following a succession of minor roads northeast to Tain before joining the A9 over the Dornoch Firth Bridge and turning east along a minor road for the little town of Dornoch. On the map the walk didn't look that interesting, but for me it was a throwback to the lane-hopping in Cornwall and Devon, and with the sun beating down and the sky throwing up the most beautiful cloud displays, the miles rolled past.

Tain
Tain

Missing Link

Tain
Tain

I should, however, mention the wonderful cultural exchange we experienced in the St Duthus Hotel in Tain, the pub we completely failed to wander past after our sandwich break down the road. After Tain the route follows the A9 for four miles, sticking to the grassy verge but within spitting distance of some extremely heavy and fast-moving lorries, and although it doesn't look too bad on the map, a pint of anaesthetic before hitting the tarmac was far too attractive to pass up. So we dropped our packs outside the pub and Barry went inside to retrieve a couple of pints of Velvet.

Tain
Tain
Dornoch Firth from Tain
Dornoch Firth from Tain
The Dornoch Firth Bridge
On the Dornoch Firth Bridge

I've got to go to the cash point because I've got no money and I can't spend the rest of the day without any cash.

You might hear anyone say this; it's nothing special. But in the dialect of the terminally thick, you have to follow a special rule – one rule only – that turns this normal piece of communication into something rather special. The rule is to insert one particular word into the sentence as many times as you can, just as long as you follow the rules of normal grammar. Here's what Barry and I actually heard, after the human mutt next to us had mangled it through her own personal dialect:

I've fookin' got to fookin' go to the fookin' cash point because I've got no fookin' money and I fookin' can't spend the fookin' rest of the fookin' day without any fookin' cash.

A sign for the Meikle Ferry on Dornoch Firth Bridge
No ferry? But I thought you meant the ferry was... oh, never mind

Ta-da! Instant anti-establishment anarchy, at the touch of a button! You too can play this game, at home or in public, but make sure you turn the volume levels up nice and high, because then everyone can join in. It's a useful game, too, because if you're particularly dim and have problems thinking of which word comes next in your chosen sentence, then adding in the word 'fookin'' at every opportunity can double the length of your sentences, giving you twice as much time to worry about which word you should be picking from your vocabulary of 100 useful words.