From Durness I headed south. After that fierce west wind during the last days, I believed, I would have it easier from now on. How very wrong I was. No matter which turn the road took, the wind always came up front. I felt really mad. Additionally, I did not feel well. Stomach ache, weak legs and a queasy feeling in the abdomen. At first, I believed, that my second pint the night before, had been the one pint too much. But it quickly became evident, that this was not the case. There was something wrong with my water. Whenever I took a sip, my stomach cramped up even worse and I felt sick. I had already quit lunch, as I did not feel up for eating, and now I had to stop drinking as well. Without being able to eat or drink properly, I called it a day after 50km, and set up camp in Scourie early afternoon. I had just laid down for a nap when it started to pour down. Good for me I had set up camp so early.
After a two hours sleeep I felt fit enough to try out the camp’s bistro. Most Scottish campsites don’t come with kitchens (I was clearly still spoiled from Norway, where the camp sites almost always come with fully equipped kitchens) and I would have no chance of preparing myself a tea in this rain. I got lucky, though, as the bistro not only had chamomile tea but also served a hot vegetable carrot soup that night.
An hour later I was back at the same junction from where I had started out two hours ago, my legs like jelly, my stomach queasy and all energy spent. What a waste of time and energy. Lochinver, my today’s destination, was still over 25km and who knows how much upwards elevation away. The next mountain pass was already looming large right ahead of me and I felt I could not put in another pedal stroke. Halfheartedly I held out my thumb, trying to get a lift. But with my bike and all the packs, it would have been a long shot to find someone to be able and willing take me along. Sure enough, the two cars that had passed me during the last twenty minutes had not stopped.
