After a great breakfast at the Marine Hotel in Invergordon, and in an equally great mood, I continued my jouney on a beautifully sunny morning. Unbeknownst to me I was about to embark on the worst day yet of my journey. Although I knew I had to rejoin the dreaded A99 all the way to Inverness, I didn’t expect it to be like the M25. And that’s pretty much how it was the whole journey. There was no flat soft shoulder to speak of, just a grasy incline and a ditch full of rough, hard rocks. 7 hours of walking on a slant completely knackered my feet and legs. The whole way was forested and no points of interest. Thankfully I rememered I had downloaded a bunch of talking books so I listened to the last 6 hours remaining of Stephen King’s “It” to take my mind off the horrors of the road. It was quite literally non-stop traffic until I got to Inverness, so I couldn’t even pop up to the road for some relief.
By the time I got to the final bridge into Inverness it was another game level completion challenge with the Scottish God of Wind & Rain. I was well and truly battered, despite putting on all my layers and gloves, but I knew by the end of it I could turn off the A99 and never again see that bloody road – at least for a long, long while. As soon as I started, limping by this point, down the footpath to Inverness it was like the clouds had cleared and the doors to Heaven had been flung open.
I had booked a room at the Mecure, but they somehow managed to screw it up and all they could offer me was the disabled suite. I had been dreaming of a bath to soak my aching, cramped feet but I was now too exhausted to care. I was even too tired to stop into the pub for a Guinness. So I sulked off to my room, sat in the pull-down chair in the bathroom, and pressed the button for water, and there I sat for a half hour before climbing into bed.
I have no idea why I took the photo you see for this entry, but it’s the only one I have for today. Perhaps it was because it was the only flat bit of land I had seen in awhile.