[This walk was completed on Monday, 27th May, 2024]

The seals are out on the sand banks in the mouth of Loch Fleet. Too many to count. Sunbathing.

After the nerve-wracking encounter with cattle yesterday, I was tempted to end the holiday a day early. But it is bank holiday Monday, and I assumed the roads would be clogged with traffic. So, today, I planned a short walk.

And what a difference a day makes. The weather is glorious this morning, and the walk ends up being marvellous too!

I cycled to Skelbo, and hid my bike in the long grass at the end of the layby where I ended yesterday’s walk.

The sun is flitting in and out of thin white clouds. The landscape lights up – shifting areas spotlighted by the sunshine. There’s the vainglorious Sutherland Memorial on top of the distant hill, and the indifferent seals sunbathing in the middle of the estuary.

Looking back, I can see all the way up to the bridge and causeway that marks the top of Loch Fleet.

I’m just settling down into the swing of the walk, when a large tour bus pulls up, and dozens of tourists pile out and start taking photographs of the same views.

The guide directs them to look at Skelbo Castle, a ruined monument perched on a hillock behind the road.

But it is actually the views over the loch that are more scenic. And they get very excited by the sight of all the seals.

I tut-tut (mentally) at the photo-snapping tourists – forgetting, of course, that I am a tourist too, and doing the exact same thing, albeit on two legs instead of in a big coach.

Further along the road, I get a great view of Littleferry across the mouth of the loch, where I was two days ago. What a shame the ferry is no longer running. I could have avoided the field of bullocks and the horrible walk along the edge of the A9.

I am about to leave the road, and I turn to take a last photograph looking back at Skelbo Castle. The tourist bus has gone and the landscape is almost empty.

At this point I can leave the road, and enter a place called Coul Links. I always thought that “links” referred to a seaside golf course, but there is no sign of any golf here. Strange.

[Later, I learn that “links” simply means sand dunes.]

I sign instructs me, somewhat unnecessarily, “DO NOT FEED THE COWS”.

The official path follows a farm track. A JOG Trail sign tells me that, yes, this is the right route. At first, I am disappointed by the prospect of yet more tarmac walking…

…but I can soon leave the track. First, I must cross a fence via a stile with a black-and-white striped barbed-wire cover, and…

…finally, I end up walking along a lovely, grassy path. The smell of gorse is gorgeous.

This path follows the route of an old railway track, and so runs in an almost straight line.

I spot a couple coming towards me. They look like serious walkers, and I wonder if they are other coast-walkers who I might know via social media. William Dochery and his wife are currently somewhere in the area. I get ready to smile…

…but they pass me with their heads down and without acknowledgement. I don’t see their faces clearly, but from their body language they seem very tired and determined to push on. Was it them?

No sign of the sea at the moment, and no view of Loch Fleet either. But, the path passes an area of marsh and swamp, where the water is flat and still, and reflects the beautiful sky.

I reach a gate, and perch my camera on the gate post. Set the timer. Take a self-portrait.

Onwards. This strange little brick hut might be something to do with the railway – maybe an old signal box? I don’t know.

My pace quickens because I can smell the sea, and hear it too… and there it is, ahead of me. Ahhh, lovely to be approaching the coast again after a couple of days of inland walking.

I’m going to head straight for that line of dunes and, hopefully, find a beach to walk along.

At this point, the path curves around to run parallel with the shore, still following the old railway line. But I leave the main path, and take a side path towards the dunes. After some false starts – there are dozens of little paths, and most of them just fizzle out – the dunes seem no nearer. But, I do find a bench.

It’s a good spot to sit and have my lunch.

Refreshed after some food and a drink, I set off again along the maze of little paths – and this time I am more successful. Finally, I reach the ridge of dunes that hides the beach…

… and here is a most glorious beach. Acres of pale sand. Bright sunshine. A sparkling sea. Beautiful.

Looking back towards Golspie, I can see the Sutherland Monument on its dark hill, and the scattered buildings of the town, and even the outline of the beautiful Dunrobin castle. (The castle is the pale shape on the far right of the far shore in the photo below.)

I turn to my right and begin walking southwards towards Embo. The sun is bright in my eyes, but I can see an apparent crowd of people at the end of the beach.

There are people in the sea, lovers strolling on the sands, children playing in the shallows. I don’t normally snap photographs of children, but I can’t resist these two young boys who are jumping – and squealing – in the cold froth of the waves.

At the end of a beach, a slipway leads up to Embo. I stop at the top, turn round, and take a couple of photographs looking back at the beach.

[Afterwards, I am amazed by how lovely these photographs are. They look almost unreal – like paintings.]

Sadly, Embo is not as scenic as the beach. I walk through the holiday park with its rows of metal cabins – and head up the slope to find my van.

In fact, Embo is a strange mix of a place. Half the village consists of tiny cottages arranged tightly-packed aound a maze of narrow streets. The other half is this massive holiday park of identikit mobile homes.

I’ve left my van in the carpark near the entrance to the holiday complex. It might be on private property – I’m not sure – but there were no signs telling me this.

I sit in the van for a while, and eat some more snacks. It’s my last night in Scotland tonight. Tomorrow I’m heading home.

The next few months are going to be busy. I’m off to Spain, again, to visit some old friends, I have a brief walking trip in Yorkshire planned with another friend, and I have some house hunting to do – because I’ve decided to sell my beautiful mill in Anglesey and buy somewhere else. Then, in August, my youngest daughter is expecting her first baby.

Hopefully I will be back here in September to resume my walk.

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Cattle encountered: 0

Seals seen: too many to count

Miles walked today = 3.5 miles

Total distance around coast = 5,163 miles

Route:

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