Day 101: Keiss to John O’Groats - The Final Day (14.6 miles)

Being the last day, it felt important to wear my old beastly friend of the trek - the large rucksack. I was actually surprised how comfortable - and comforting it was!

Maria and I set off with Martin at 9:30, letting some heavy rain go through first. We would have to watch ourselves on the cliffs as the forecast was for 45 miles per hour gusts from the west.

Within minutes we could see Keiss castle before us but for Maria, I think seeing seals bobbing up in the water was more interesting, not least because Georgie was desperate to see them too. Martin turned back and we told him to let Georgie know.

The path was overgrown with wet vegetation, and it wasn’t long before Maria reported that the inside of her boots were starting to get wet. It wouldn’t take too long before mine followed (by 10:20!): with rotting stitching it was the reason I had originally decided to swop over to my new boots all those days ago down in St Ives, Cornwall.

Oystercatchers were clearly alarmed by our proximity to their nest, and a curlew followed suit giving off its alarm call while circling us at a distance.

We walked past a mix of geos with small waterfalls discovering that with drizzle starting the wet rocks were slippy and needed care.

We came to a strange monument by two grassy lumps which I recognised as brochs. Maria decided to climb onto what turned out to be called the Mervyn Tower and told me to join her. From the tower, we could see that the grassy mounds were surrounded by an elaborate system of trenches. It turned out that the brochs had developed over 2000 years ago and an ancient village had gradually developed around them before being abandoned around 500AD. The Victorian archaeologist who excavated the site was responsible for the monument. We would have entirely missed the excavation if Maria hadn’t decided to climb it. 

Coming to Milltown Haven there was an awkward stream crossing. Maria went first taking it cautiously, and was taken aback to realise after getting over an old wood plank that there was another stretch to get over on slippy rocks.  She was even more taken aback when I crossed with relative ease - but that was because I’d watched how she did it!!

Walking up out of the Haven, we looked back to see a group of 5 or so people, two with bright yellow jackets come to the crossing and stop - I guessed it was a team from the JOGT trail volunteers, cussing out how to make the crossing easier. We came across a number of very recent stiles and bridges on this section - improvements to the trail are clearly steadily being made, which we much appreciated.

The next stretch became increasingly boggy, but our interest was diverted by the number of sea stacks steadily increasing as we passed Samuel’s and Wells Geos, the latter also featuring an impressive sea arch. The rain, however was also increasing as was the wind, and it was becoming increasingly hard work to walk into the wind as we circumvented the geos. It was always a relief to turn back towards the coast.

Between Kingans and Castle Geos sat the precarious ruins of Bucholly Castle, but with the rain and wind harassing us we didn’t linger and pressed on to Ness Head. From here, we could see across Freswick Bay to Skirza Head, and to its right our first sighting of the Orkney Isles, with Muckle Skerry further east marking, where I recalled, a powerful whirlpool occurs.

The bay was where we planned to meet Martin and Georgie who would join us for the rest of the walk.  Again, having to turn into the wind, the rain felt sharp against my face feeling quite icy and I think we were both glad to see the vegetation had been cut back as we approached and got into the shelter of the castle. Georgie had rung to suggest we meet them and have our lunch in the car as the track dropped down to the bay - what a great idea! Although here would have been ok for us to pause for a lunch spot, the idea of getting into the warmth of the car to dry off was far more appealing. 

I knew there was a burn to cross, but I hadn’t appreciated how big. We stopped in our tracks and looked up and down the beach to see if there was a better place to cross. The burn bed was stony, so crossing bare foot didn’t feel like an option. We looked at each other - both our boots were squelchy wet anyway so we agreed to ford it as is.  Going for the widest point to ensure the weakest current we couldn’t resist video-ing each other and laughing in turn.

Not long after we spotted the Tiguan arrive and Georgie spring out and run towards us.

Such enthusiasm! With customary hilarity, we took off our soggy boots and clambered into the car, me opting to change my 3/4 trousers to my long ones duly being carried in my rucksack, and - realising my other boots were in the car - resolving to change to them for the afternoon. Poor Maria!

Having this lunch break in the car made it feel as though Maria and I walked on two different days. Leaving the car for us to pick up later, we all followed the diversion back up the track and along minor roads to Skirza.

The path continued round the Skirza Head, skirting a number of deep geos. We passed two walkers looking very nervous so close to the cliff edge. Fortunately we all had a good head for heights although a couple of points certainly made us gasp. The path dropped down to a quarry and we had headed to a dead end when the other walkers waved to us from the other side of the geo and pointed out the correct way forward.

The path became increasingly soggy and at one point Maria resorted to giving Georgie a piggy back - never once did she complain about her soggy boots or how hard it was walking in the strong wind all day. But it really was good to have Georgie along to spar with, and Martin stolidly walking forward.

We saw more and more of the Skerries and Orkney Isles signalling how close we were to the end of my challenge. To my amazement, I spotted a large brown bird on a rock by the path in front of us - a great skua. It steadfastly remained where it was as we walked past, much to my surprise.

I think all our hearts lifted when we spotted the tops of the stacks of Duncansby come into view. I’d heard so much about them, I was worried they would be an anti-climax. How wrong I was. They really are breathtakingly beautiful and the patterns on the water that the wind made around them as it dropped down off the cliffs were continually fascinating.

There were more ups and downs on the path to come before we got to the lighthouse on Duncansby Head, where I promised we could have a sugar fix - aka mars bars and chocolate buttons. I was so preoccupied by the impending finish that Georgie had to remind me!

I had my sights on the road ahead but the path diverted to the right for what proved to be a beautiful end to the walk. The Bay of Sannick opened up in front of us with beautiful white sand and turquoise waters. It could have been the Caribbean if not for the wind. By this point we could literally lean out away from the slope and onto the wind - an astonishing feeling.

Rounding Ness of Duncansby, the others left me to have some time alone to take in the end to my long trek, while they went ahead to the finish. I was grateful for this. I gazed out to the Isles and tried to absorb what I had accomplished and how I felt. Overall, it was one of great relief and satisfaction - and surprisingly a feeling of calm.  Sweeping round the last stretch of beach the wind caught up the sand sharply into my face, so my attention turned again to simply finishing the walk. As I came to the last corner and glimpsed the iron wrought arch which signals the end of the JOG Trail, a surge of emotion had me almost in tears, but I was determined not to do so and swallowed hard.

The sight in front of me had those tears turn to laughter - Georgie had organised celebration posters, party blowers and a garland which the two girls greeted me with at the arch and then escorted me to the famous John O’Groats signpost. A bottle of Prosecco was broken open to celebrate my finish. A wonderful way for the family to greet me.

I walked down towards the harbour to take in the view - and that’s when the tears came. I’d done it. I had really done it. I felt quite over-whelmed. A few hugs had me back in control and I headed for the information centre for a completion stamp before we headed back to Harbour House for roast dinner, compliments of Martin (roast lamb), and Georgie (everything else!), whilst Maria had a well-deserved bath, and I was persuaded to finally try out the steam room -bliss! I’d not realised just how chilled I’d got.

I’m glad the final day was tough. I was lucky the wind wasn’t just that bit stronger as otherwise I think it would have been too much to be so close to the cliffs. But the day was an excellent reflection of the challenge of the trek as a whole, and just the way I would have chosen to complete it. It neatly mirrored the blustery start of the walk on the north Cornish coast all that time ago; it was going to take a long time for me to fully process what I had done…