Ultimate north - Dunnet Bay and Dunnet Head

John o'Groats isn't the 'most northerly point on the British mainland'. Not quite. It's pipped at the post by Dunnet Head, a few miles off to the west. And I was pitched at the Caravan and Motorhome Club's site at Dunnet Bay, which is their most northerly site.

I'd never stayed here before, and was most impressed. It was on an area of green turf between the main road and some dunes, with all the usual immaculate facilities you'd expect. Somewhat exposed, of course, to the wind; but on a calm day, in sunshine, very attractive indeed. And so close to the beach.

As soon as I was set up, I had a look at that beach. Pretty good.

There are in fact several large beaches in Caithness, but this one was just yards away from the caravan. Next day I caught it at sunset too.

It was a fine beach to look at, and deserved to be walked upon from end to end, but I never made the time to do that, wanting instead to see as much of far north of Scotland as possible. But on my last evening, with a storm threatening, I did drive out to nearby Dunnet Head, wanting to see the lighthouse and get the view even further northwards across the Pentland Firth to Orkney. 

This was in mid-evening - I'd already eaten, in fact - and the light was beginning to go. It was essential that it did: I wanted to see the lighthouse with its light turned on, so it had to be dark enough for that. 

The road from Dunnet village to the lighthouse was decent enough, but it wound about as you got closer to the lighthouse, not taking a direct line, and forcing you to follow whatever lumbering motorhome might be making its slow way up there. And clearly many did, as I found when arriving at the car park. All facing the same magnificent view to the west.

I'd been here once before, in 2010. It was windy then, and was breezy now. The sun had gone, but there was the afterglow, almost overwhelmed by a massive cloud formation out to sea, dark and threatening. 

I decided not to walk along the clifftop, just in case lashing rain descended before I could get back inside Fiona. The view in the clear cold evening air was still worthwhile. In the top and middle shots just above, the land on the horizon is actually the island of Hoy in Orkney. And if you enlarge the picture by clicking on it, and peer closely at the left-hand extremity of this land, you can make out a giant sea stack peeping over the slightly-nearer cliffs. That's the famous Old Man of Hoy.  

It was tantalising to be so close to Orkney. Ten years ago, I'd promised myself that I would take the caravan there, and even now I'd got no closer. It's unfinished business, and I will do it one day.

The lighthouse was shining. I got all the pictures I wanted.

The light was getting really low now. Behind me, quietly lined up, were several motorhomes, and in one or two the occupants, insulated from the cold air, seemed to be enjoying a proper evening meal with all the fixings. What a fantastic spot to pitch, and probably spend the night at. Hot food in abundance, wine, conviviality. Presumably overnight parking was allowed, but if it wasn't, I doubted whether anybody would come to make them move on. 

One last shot of myself at the very top end of the British mainland. 

Then back to my snug caravan. 

And do you know, despite the black cloud out to sea, no rain came.