Day 4: Conquering the Northern Tip
Waking up to the quiet flow of the River Wick, I felt truly rested and ready for the day ahead—a day focused entirely on reaching the mythical top of the British mainland. My goal for Day Four was clear: tick off the iconic signpost at John O'Groats and then head a little further west to stand at the true summit, the magnificent cliffs of Dunnet Head.
.The Iconic End of the Road: John O'Groats
The drive from Wick was short but quickly delivered me to the famed John O'Groats. As a classic stop on the NC500 (and the end of the Land’s End challenge), it certainly drew a crowd. I parked up Black Betty and headed straight for the iconic signpost. It’s touristy, sure, but there’s a genuine sense of achievement standing there, gazing across the Pentland Firth towards the Orkney Islands. I got the obligatory photo, enjoyed the colourful buildings of the village, and appreciated the buzz of fellow travellers who had all made the pilgrimage. It felt like a proper milestone passed.
Dunnet Head: The Real Northernmost Point
From the bustle of John O'Groats, I pointed Black Betty west toward the true northernmost point of mainland Britain: Dunnet Head. The drive was a beautiful contrast, swapping the tourist-heavy A9 for a quieter, more isolated road. When I arrived, the lighthouse stood sentinel against a windswept sky, a beacon on the very edge of the world.
I wasn't just here for the view, though. I laced up my boots and set off on a 10.5-mile circular walk that would take me along the cliffs and across the wild headland. The views were nothing short of spectacular, a rugged panorama of cliffs, sea stacks, and the vast expanse of the North Sea.
The Lichen clinging for dear life to the old rotted post caught my eye and made me realise how tough it must be for anything to survive in a land so exposed to the elements and gives true respect to those who choose a life here.
It was a proper, challenging trek—the kind that makes you feel alive. At one point, I came perilously close to losing a shoe in what could only be described as the Bog of Eternal Stench. The smell was genuinely foul, and I had to perform some acrobatic maneuvers to pull my foot free before getting stuck forever. The near-miss was a good reminder of the untamed nature of this landscape. The exercise felt fantastic after so many hours of driving, and the fresh, clean air was an invigorating change.
A Coastal Retreat at Melvich Bay
After an exhilarating hike, I was more than ready to get back to the warmth of Black Betty. I drove through the small town of Thurso and continued west, heading for my final destination of the day: Melvich Bay Caravan Park.
This place is an absolute gem. I’m parked up with a glorious sea view with the sound of the waves a gentle soundtrack to my evening.
