Getting On It

A long crossing over to the coast of Caithness, past oil production platforms! How cool is that? I know, I know. The Beatrice Field, apparently. But it wasn't cool - I had my shoes off and shorts on. And I still got a bit warm.
So, into Wick, another place showing traces of how grand it once was, and how far it has fallen. The council have pedestrianised part of the old High St, and put in benches and iron street lamps, but half the shops are vacant. And by the harbour, whole buildings have been left to decay. What happens when the economic life blood goes. And no one knows quite what to do about it.
But the Wetherspoons (yes, we did get there) was so busy. Two pints of Deuchars and a pint of Guinness for £6.08. So all the other boozers fold and the young kids in Wetherspoons work their arses off for the minimum wage. I'm not sure where all this is going. I know where I'm going, though. Because the harbour master told us. There's a north running eddy right in close to Duncansby Head starting just before High Water at Wick. A 6am start then.
Night, all.