Stromness, Scotland and Hairpins!

We were up early fofr a weather check (look out of window, sea flat calm with ripples; excellent) and then brewed some hot chocolate for our morning drink rather than tea. This was because the previous night’s Horlicks had left us with a mix of water and milk in the teapot which needed to be used up before we could brew tea! Once this minor problem had been disposed off, we stowed everything securely for sea, dismantling the gas stove and tying everything down with bungess safely. The diesel in the jerrycans was decanted into the main tank, bringing us up to ¾ of a tank.

The ferry terminal in Stromness was rather boring, with only a tea/coffee machien for refreshments, so having wandered slowly about inside it for a while, we headed off to investigate the town of Stromness. It has narrow streets, paved in the ubiquitous flags but with a narrow strip of cobbles inset – possibly for grip, or so a local woman implied after Anny successfully fell over on the main street again! This time the damage was minor and lacking in bloodshed, so having achieved verticality again we proceeded with more caution for a while.

Stromness soon proved not to be fascinating, however, and we turned back to the ferry terminal to get the Kite Wagon booked in. This time, for variety, we drove forwards into the ferry (a much bigger vessel than the last) and then swung around to park up facing the stern. From there it was up to the passenger decks and a search for a good window to park ourselves by, in case of seasickness. A kindly steward advised that the best place was aft behind the reception desk so we found a good window and having dumped our bags, I left Anny guarding them and raided the café for breakfast. A bacon roll with extra egg and a mug of hot chocolate having been acquired and scoffed, I returned to the port side window and readied the phone to do photos of Hoy in passing.

The Pentland Firth turned out to be in the mood of a placid millpond, barely managing even a visible swell let alone anything perceptible. We docked without problem in Scrabster, reclaimed the Kite Wagon and headed out in search of the A9 south.

We’d agreed that our original plan – sleeping at one of the higher car parks on Cairngorm for a night – would turn out to be a cold option, so we changed our minds and decided to go for a slow reintroduction to civilisation by going straight to Maud  and journey’s end. This would also enable us to do the washing and shower!  Having decided this we set off down the A9, only to find that just after Latheronwheel and before Helmsdale, the road entered a series of h9orrendous steep hairpin bends that weren’t marked on the map! It was quite exciting to be heading apparently directly at the North Sea, visible over a few-hundred-foot cliff, only to then whisk around and be heading at 180 degrees in the opposite direction within yards. Signs saying ‘check your brakes now’ and ‘stay in low gear’ did not induce great confidence, either.

Once past all this hair-raising stuff, however, we parked up for a steadying cup of tea and some food, it being about lunchtime, and called ahead to warn that we were on the way early. Assured of a bed and dinner, we pushed on south, achieving a fine run all the way to Maud with still ¼ of a tank in hand and just about 1,300 miles on the tank since I bought the wagon exactly 14 days before!