I’m thankful to have a job that lets me take the odd ad-hoc day off to chase the good weather and sun, whenever we get it. In August I did just that, and stole away to return to Sandwood Bay.

In 2018 I visited this incredible beach with D, but we had no luck with the conditions: it was blowing a proper hoolie, as the Scots say. It was the most miserable 6kms I ever hiked — walking against 50mph winds in freezing horizontal rain is no fun, especially when you’re already wrecked from climbing a munro (Ben Hope) the previous day. The place still blew our minds though, and I’ve been wanting to go back ever since.

The opportunity finally presented itself earlier this month. I wasn’t quite up to the 390km (240mi) drive that it takes to get there, so I had to look for public transport options.

Luckily, it is possible to make it up there in a single day:

• M90 bus from Edinburgh to Inverness
• 805 minibus from Inverness to Kinlochbervie
• 12km hike to Sandwood Bay, half along single track roads and half on well-maintained footpath

There is about an hour wait in Inverness, which is perfect for a quick run to M&S for snacks, and then you arrive in Kinlochbervie just after 5pm, which makes for a pleasant hike out to the Bay in the setting sun.

On top of this, I got lucky and a lovely local lady from the bus offered to give me a ride to the car park, which meant a much shorter hike (6km) at the end. I could take my time enjoying the stillness around me, and the slowly transforming evening light.

As I skirted the final hill on the path out to the Bay, the most incredible view opened up, the familiar mile-long sandy beach in the setting sun:

A rush of giddy happiness, my mind buzzing, just drinking it all in.

Sandwood Bay is a completely wild place, with no human-built infrastructure. Grazing sheep and fellow hikers are the only company you will get, and plenty of space to feel utterly alone in the landscape, even with others around.

I could see a few tents here and there, down in the dunes, and an already occupied bivvy bag, practically right across the footpath.

I couldn’t sit back and relax just yet, I had to find a spot of my own before darkness, somewhere to pitch a tent and feel safe enough for the night.

I pitched (in windy saddle, but hidden enough from view), and settled in to watch the failing light over the cliffs. At dusk I cooked dinner, ate, then zipped up and hunkered down for the night.

A cold bad night’s sleep followed (no surprise, it was an exposed spot — a learning for next time), but it was all worth it when I woke up to this view:

The next morning I upped camp, headed down to explore the sands and to say hello to the Old Man, Am Buachaille:

It sat proud and tall in the sunshine, the North Sea roaring at its feet. I stood there watching it for a long time, and watching the waves break too, their wide frothing peaks, taking in the wild sound of the surf. The power and ferocity of the water was humbling.

I plodded along the sandy beach as far as I could manage, sat to cook lunch in the shade of a sand bank and then turned away from the sea to explore the dunes. The loch in-land was shallow, warm and inviting. I didn’t even think to pack swimmers, or I might have gone in — though it may have been a long wade before I could paddle.

That afternoon, it was time to retrace the previous night’s footsteps to the car park, and then on towards the honour campsite at Sheigra beach.

This was a far less special place, but still calm and green. Remembering gulls diving for fish into the stormy surf when we passed here in 2018, I pitched, ate, and read until darkness fell.

The next morning I had to be up early, if I wanted to make the 8am bus back (same route as before, in reverse). But I couldn’t resent being out walking so early, not with this spectacular sunrise over the land:

The walk back to Kinlochbrevie could have been boring, undulating single track tarmac, but the shallow pale morning light transformed it into something utterly beautiful.

This hiking trip was but a short one, only 24 hours spent at my destination, a mere 12kms walked and there and back in just two and a half days.

But even so, my mind completely rested in the solitary silence of this north-westernmost tip of Scotland. I walked away with many more beautiful memories of stunning light on the cliffs of Sandwood Bay.