[This walk was completed on Tuesday, 14th May, 2024]

From the bus stop on the main road, I walk along the little lane that leads to the Whaligoe Steps. Past the row of little cottages, past a number of vehicles trying to get into the tiny car park (which is full), until I reach the end of the tarmac.

Earlier this morning, the bus driver had not heard of Whaligoe Steps! Luckily, a woman passenger told him where to stop to let me off. I suppose local people use the bus to go shopping in Wick and not to go sight-seeing along the coast.

From the end of the lane, I join the John o’Groats Trail. It is well-used in this area because of all the people coming to look at the famous steps. A man is repairing an area of the path that has worn away as it crosses a steep slope above Whale Geo.

Ah, there are the Whaligoe Steps – and what a lot of steps there are! Very dramatic.

I didn’t see the steps properly on my walk yesterday, because I was too busy concentrating on not plunging to my death as I leapt across the waterfall. Now, where is that waterfall? There, on the other side of the geo, and no wonder I was terrified. Just look at the height of those cliffs!

I was tempted to go down the steps today, but the thought of having to climb back up was too daunting. I am still very tired after yesterday’s walk. (My cancer treatment came to an end 5 months ago, but I remain very unfit and rather fragile.)

So, today I am sticking to the top of the cliffs. One last look across Whale Geo, and the waterfall of death.

On this side of the cliffs, the Jog o’Groats Trail is well-marked. I am grateful for the sturdy stile.

I follow the fence down the hill, keeping as close to the sea as I can. That turns out to be a bit of mistake, because when I reach the other side of the wide field, I face a steep and tiring climb back up the slope.

This coastline is indented by geos. This one is called Wester Whale Geo. Even in the haze of the morning haar, the view of the wild inlet is spectacular. Foamy waves crash against hard rocks.

(Sadly, my photographs don’t do the views justice. The persistent sea mist dulls the colours. Also, I am heading south, and taking photographs into the the sun is never very satisfactory.)

The cliffs are wild beneath me, but on top the scenery is more pedestrian. I am in a field of sheep. They scatter and stampede away in a panic.

While there were a few people wandering around the cliff paths by the steps, nobody else has walked as far as this and I am alone with the sheep. Here, the path is quite indistinct on the ground.

After I cross the wide field, I look back and realise I haven’t come very far – there are the buildings at the top of Whaligoe Steps.

When I come to a tumbled wall, my way is barred by a fence. Have I lost the trail? Then I spot a friendly John o’Groats sign on a fence pole, and head towards it, expecting to find a stile.

But there is no stile – just a rickety barbed wire fence.

Luckily, the official JOG Trail site warned me there were several barbed wire fences to climb in this section, and I have brought my barbed-wire-fence-climbing-kit. It is, basically, a padded tube of green canvas.

I bought this kit a few years ago, but have never used it. Today, I discover it works really well. Over I go, without a scratch.

This section of the John o’Groats Trails is officially unofficial, because the landowner/s have not given permission for the organisers of the Trail to make it walker-friendly. In Scotland there is a legal “right to roam”, but that doesn’t mean anybody has the right to erect stiles or bridges without permission.

On the other side of the fence, I trudge up a hill (as advised by the JOG Trail map) towards the main road. Here, I can climb over the next obstructing fence via a rusty old gate, and…

… head back down the hill on the other side. The sight of a huge thicket of yellow gorse is worrying but, surprisingly, there is a very obvious path through the thorny bushes, and even a walkway of planks to guide me over the muddy areas.

I reach the coast again. Think this geo is called Long Gote.

A little further along, as series of plank bridges help me to cross a number of burns, each one ending in beautiful waterfalls that tumble down sheer cliffs to the sea below.

This is still the unofficial section of the John o’Groats Trail, so I am surprised (but very pleased) to find these helpful bridges. Although, some of the bridges are slightly terrifying…

… but better than trying to leap across the top of a watery precipice. I whisper a big thank you to the guys who maintain the JOG Trail.

The next section of the coast becomes rough underfoot and very boggy in places. Again, a surprisingly sturdy stile invites me to cross the fence and walk on the safer side of the barrier.

I am struggling up a hill, when I spot a figure coming towards me. It is a sweaty woman laden under an enormous rucksack, and she is walking on the wrong side of the fence. We stop for a chat.

She is not happy. “It’s so rough underfoot,” she complains. “I nearly twisted my ankle in a rabbit hole.” “It is easier on this side of the fence. Climb over when you get a chance,” I advise her.

“Oh, no. I’m avoiding the cows,” she says. “There is a whole group of them across the path behind me.”

Cows! I decide to climb over the fence myself, as soon as I get a chance. I really, really don’t like cows.

We go our separate way. She is only the second serious hiker I have met on this trip, and both hikers have been women. Unusual. I take a photo of her back as she makes her way – very slowly – down the hill.

After a while, I come to a stile that invites me to cross the fence and walk on the outside once more. I do so gladly… but I haven’t come across any of the cows the woman was talking about. Only sheep.

I check my map. I’m approaching Halberry Head. The path has become increasingly difficult and I have to keep watching my step on the uneven ground. Don’t want to fall down those cliffs!

Cross the top of another waterfall. Beautiful.

Even more beautiful when I can take a photograph from the other side.

Look at those cliffs! And I’m getting hot in the sun, despite the mist.

There are the remains of an old castle on Halberry Head, but I don’t leave the path to explore.

The next landmark I come to is the Stack of Mid Clyth. A plateau of grass – a dazzling spring-green in the sunshine – on top of a mighty island of rock.Waves foaming beneath.

I am still walking on the outside of the fence. A narrow shelf between the wire and the cliffs. There are plenty of rabbit holes here and I have to watch my step and test each foothold with my walking pole – I can understand why the other woman walker was complaining.

Slow progress. So many geos to walk around. So many rabbit holes to avoid. I’m very tired.

I come to a plateau of rocks, and am relieved to get off the treacherous rabbit-mined grass onto a firm surface. On the gentle slope above me are a series of waterfalls. Beautiful.

I stop on the rocky plateau. I’m hot, tired and hungry. Shrug off my coat and my little rucksack. Time for lunch.

In the distance, I can see a group of figures on the cliffs above the sea. More hikers? I look forward to meeting another group of walkers. But, for now, I shall catch my breath and eat my lunch.

---

[To be continued…]

Route so far today:

---