Crossing the Waters

We got there. After hundreds of kilometers on a single-track road, traversing the steep, taiga-like moorlands of the Scottish Highlands, we got to Durness, a village made up of farms scattered across the land and deep, sandy beaches. Our host at the B&B was the most welcoming man so far in our trip. He offered us tea, coffee and cake and gave us some directions of things worth doing around there.

According to my guidebook, the visit to Cape Warth was "strongly recommended" if you had a whole morning to spare, but it didn't sound as exciting as our host described to us. After a ferry that would fit no more than 8 people, you crossed the mainland breached by sandy areas and got to a bombing-practice area which belonged to the Ministry of Defence of the United Kingdom, the only one remaining on mainland Western Europe. Only a small minivan could take you up there and drive you through the unpaved road to see the lighthouse, the most north-western point in mainland Britain, the edge of the world.

This was the farthest and northest I've ever been. The wind crept up on my face despite being April, and the rain swept the bark (or the so-called ferry) we were being carried on. Besides from my travel companion, there were only five old explorers from Birmingham and the sailor, who looked as though he'd always belonged to the sea.

Our driver picked us up on the other shore and led us to the mini-van, copilotted by a brown, furry dog. All through the 11 mile ride that took 50 minutes, the driver kept telling us stories about the abandoned buildings who had belonged to the few people who used to live there in the early 20th century, before the land was confiscated for governmental use.

We finally got to the lighthouse, where lives John, lighthousekeeper and manager of the (probably) most remote coffee house in mainland Britain. He lives there all year long with no running water, he gets all his supplies by helicopter (the route is only open to visitors from April to September) and he's got a delicious tomato soup and postcards he stamps with the Cape Warth symbol so that you can prove you've been there.

Because you've been there. Where the sea explodes against the tallest cliffs in Britain. Where the wind blows you off and nature is raw and wild and you see the seals and you see the deer and you see the puffins and you also belong there, in that forgotten corner of the world.

Never before did such a desolated place look so attractive.