And then the day somehow already came to an end. I was done by lunchtime and in retrospect could have easily rolled Day 4 and 5 into one. The rain started to beat down again as I drove south to check out my first destination of tomorrow: Helmsdale in prettier, hillier, and greener surroundings than I had experienced in the morning. So I prepared a sandwich, watched the rain come down even more, took a nap in the car and drove back up north for my overnight stay in Lybster. This turned out to be my most expensive accommodation of the entire trip. A bed and breakfast in someone’s house with farm junk, tools, and spare parts around the yard. The view out of my window was of a mobile home, where a member of the family had retreated to as his house had burnt to the ground recently. There’s a strong sense of isolation around here. One of the family’s older relatives told me that not long ago, people worked in either farming or fishing. Now what all the younger ones want to do is leave. With all the rain and wind driving in from the North Sea, the place felt desolate, and even the landscape for once felt rather uninspiring. It stopped raining at last just before sunset, so I drove to the cute harbour, set up my camping cooker and opened some tins that I had brought along. Luckily, the Champions League was still on in the evening.