[This walk was completed on Saturday 18th May, 2024]

Today, I will be mainly road-walking along the notorious A9. But, first, I follow a minor road under the overpass, and take a path up the hill. Great views. Dunbeath doesn’t seem very large from up here.

This morning, I cycled back to the end-point of yesterday’s walk, and left my Scooty bike chained up behind a wall. I always worry about leaving the bike… but he seems well-camouflaged in this spot.

The footpath I’m following takes me up across a field to another area of Dunbeath on the southern side of Dunbeath Water.

This area turns out to be larger than I expected, with a post office, a health centre, and a war memorial.

My map shows a little dead-end road that ends in a track through woodland. The track will eventually take me back to the main road, and it will make a nice diversion from the traffic

The road starts off well, with tall green hedges on either side, giving way to fields of sheep. I enter the woodland. Beautiful. Traffic signs inform me I can go at 60 mph if I want…. but… there are a pair of large gates ahead.

When I get nearer, it is clear the owner of the woodland does not want anyone walking along his track. Private, says the sign. And I am being watched by CCTV. So, back I plod along the lovely road. Now, I have no choice but to walk along the A9.

When I join the main road, I am surprised by a barrier – Road Closed Snow.

The barrier is open at the moment, of course, but I wonder how you get through when they close the road in the winter? There are no other roads in the area!

Luckily, despite my fear of the A9, there is a pavement along one side of the road that carries on for a good mile or so – for no obvious reason that I can see. But, I’m not complaining.

I pass the spot where the track I wanted to follow rejoins the road, and silently curse the landowner. Scotland has a “right to roam” law, but having the legal right to roam doesn’t always mean you can actually roam if a determined landowner wants to keep you out.

When the pavement eventually comes to an end, I pull out my hi-vis jacket, and get ready for the road-walking part of today’s walk.

Luckily there is a grassy verge to walk along, with short grass, and there are not too many cars about. But when the cars do come, they come f a s t.

The road seems mainly uphill, and I am now walking high above the sea. The going is easy, but at times I am tempted to cut across the fields and find the John o’Groats Trail.

The temptation doesn’t last long. Look at those cows. And their baby calves.

After a mile or so of plodding uphill, I am getting hungry. There are no handy benches, so I look out for a stone wall, and eventually find one (in the photo below). It is not very comfortable, but I perch on the stones and have a quick drink and a snack.

The uphill climb finally levels off and the road might even be beginning to go downhill. There are hills ahead, and the sight of the higher land lifts my spirits. It’s good to see some nice highland scenery again.

Hello sheep. You look very cosy in your shaggy fleeces. They look a bit like Hebridean sheep, but Hebridean sheep are black, and these are brown and cream. So, I don’t know what they are.

I’m going uphill again, and the road is veering further away from the coast. I stop to take a photograph looking back, and realise I can actually see all the way to the horizon. The sea haar (or sea fret) that has obscured the distant view for several days has finally disappeared.

The fields on either side of the road contain sheep, cows, and occasionally horses. Beyond the green fields are brown and purple hills – providing a nice contrast. The landscape is empty but not isolated, as there is always a farm or a building of some sort in sight.

Definitely going downhill now, where the road swings to the left to bypass a ridge of hills. I pass a yappy dog (safely behind a fence) and a field of donkeys. A dead-end road leads off to the left – just by the bridge in the photo below – its verges bright with yellow gorse.

I’m tempted to head down and take my chances on the coast. But a quick look at my OS map shows a landscape of long, narrow fields divided by fences. I decide it not worth the risk, and continue along the road.

Somewhere along here, I hear my first cuckoo!

Going gently uphill again, the road swings back to the right, and I see a strangely circular pond in the field below. I guess the pond is artificial and fairly new, as it does not feature on my map.

Rising higher, I get a wonderful view looking back. Love the patchy light on the green fields, the streaks of yellow gorse, and it is good to see the sea – if only in the distance.

Traffic has hotted up, and I’m a bit fed up with the noise and the bother of having to leap onto the verge every time a vehicle comes past. Reduce speed, says a sign, (somewhat unnecessarily in my case!) as the road meanders up a slope around the edge of the ridge of hills.

The road now hugs the coast, but runs high above the sea. I’m about to turn off here, to take a break from the main road via a little detour to a place called Newport.

A bus stop by the side of the road looks the worse for wear. When I take a closer look, I realise the roof has been lifted off, and the whole construction is being held down by straps!

I guess the winds here are ferocious in the winter.

The little road up to Newport is uphill, but is delightful (no traffic). It takes a right-angled turn to run parallel with the main road below for about half a mile. There are pretty little cottages and small-holdings, with flowers and pheasants, cockerels and hens.

But no port, in Newport! I wonder why it got its name?

All too soon, I’m going downhill towards the main road again. The smell of gorse along here is quite overpowering. Love it. Honey and coconut and burns raisins.

Back on the A9, the road passes through a place called Lower Newport, and twists and bends down the the valley towards Berriedale. Love the landscape ahead – trees and hills!

At a curve in the road, I can see tomorrow’s road ahead – curving and climbing up a hill. That looks like a tough walk… but I won’t think about it now.

Oh, what a lovely view. That is Berriedale Water – and the fields are alight with bright yellow gorse, interspersed with blue lakes of bluebells – running in wide drifts down the slopes and covering the banks of the river below.

I take a photo with my zoom lens, showing the massed ranks of bluebells. I do love these flowers.

After taking several more photos, I continue along the road and, very soon, my van comes into view.

I didn’t want to park my van so high up along the road, but this morning I couldn’t find anywhere to park in Berriedale itself. In fact, I got a very unfriendly impression of the place because of the many “Private Parking” signs.

The layby is near a graveyard with a circular stone-walled viewing station above it. I go and sit in the viewpoint (finally – seats!) and take more photographs.

What is that landmass in the distance? Just visible as a blue band in the photograph below.

I feel a little disorientated, until I look at the wider map on the back of my OS map and realise it must be the coast on the other side of the Moray Firth. One day, I will be walking along that far shoreline!

But, my eyes are drawn to a nearer view. Yes, that is the road I will be walking up tomorrow.

I drive back to Dunbeath to pick up my bike, and spend a lovely hour relaxing in the sunny harbour. After that, I must drive all the way back to Wick to do some shopping and fill the van with diesel. You have to travel a long way in Scotland to get your basic essentials!

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Miles walked today = 6.5 miles

Total distance around coast = 5,118 miles

Route today:

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