Day - 14 Thursday. The Coast.
I was up at 7:30 but was in no hurry as the campsite reception didn’t open until 9:00 and I still had to pay. I was at the reception at 9:00, but it was still locked so I hung around for twenty or thirty minutes until one of the regulars came over and suggested I put £10 through the letterbox.
Today’s route would be all on roads via Fettercairn and Laurencekirk. The road to Fettercairn skirted along the bottom of the hills with the broad Glen More to my right.
It started to rain just before Fettercairn so I dashed into the Post Office to get some cash. They were interested in where I’d come from and then asked where I was going. When I said the café next door I was given an exhaustive description of what wonderful things the cafe sold. I began to think that the £60 I’d just got in the PO wasn’t enough, but then I remembered I could always come back for more. Next door I had sticky toffee pudding and ice cream. The pudding seemed to be chocolate with a small jug of hot melted toffee, and some raspberries, strawberries and grapes. Even the cutlery was nice. Fellow Challengers, you must come this way.
The walk across Glen More to Laurencekirk was punctuated by rain showers and signs warning of high pressure underground gas lines. Laurencekirk lacked the charm of Fettercairn and was much bigger and busier. A Co-op tempted me in for lunch things – rolls, coleslaw, cashews. Why didn’t I get bread in the Fettercairn farm café/shop where I’d had the pudding? It was quite nice to see people milling about again, but I felt a right scruff.
I had trouble finding my way out of Laurencekirk (how did I make it this far?), and I think the church (with spire) is shown in the wrong place on the map. One of the OS’s traps? But eventually I managed to find my way across the dual carriageway and from the Hill of Garvock got a last view back to the hills I’d left behind.
Once over the top of the hill the sky turned dark and promised rain, and feeling that I was nearly there when I passed a sign to Johnshaven I stopped for a late lunch. I’m glad I did as shortly after it started to hail pea sized hail stones which were followed by rain and thunder. It slowly cleared up as I made my way on towards Johnshaven.
The campsite was on the way into the village, right down by the shore, so I had a look at it before going into the village. It seemed okay, although the area for tents is a tiny screened off area as if the idea of camping is a bit embarrassing. I put the tent up (4pm) then walked along to the harbour. There were a couple of interesting boats, one on the quay falling apart which I really liked.
This dereliction, which I would have found appealing at any other time, coupled with the rain and the empty feeling that finishing the walk had brought on, wasn’t at all what I’d planned. I’d expected sunshine, people, a busy harbour scene with fish making their way from the boats to the restaurant I would eat at later, and cute little fisherman’s cottages. There’s nothing wrong with Johnshaven, just my expectations on that day. I rushed back to the tent, took it down and caught the next bus (5:43) into Montrose.
At the Montrose campsite all the Challengers were camped at one end. Just over the fence was the chemical factory, but it was good to be in like minded company. As I’d walked in I’d met Ian Cotterill who I’d started last years walk with, and as I was putting the tent up Caburn Chamberlain, who I’d travelled home with last year, suggested I join him for dinner at the George Hotel.
We met more Challengers at The George, and "Have you had a good Challenge?" was the repeated question. I thoroughly enjoyed the walk, especially the ruggedness of the west coast, but spending too much time there had meant being behind everybody else most of the way across. It’s not that I was lonely – the thought never crossed my mind – but the previous year I had enjoyed temporary companionship and other chance encounters along the way. Next time I’ll plan a route that meets more people. If you see me say “Hello”.
Intro