Driving down the A9 was a little strange. It's been five months since I've been further south than Newtonmore - somewhat ironic given how much I was driving up and down last summer. The weather was certainly looking OK and I reached Aberlady in the early evening as planned. I'd originally thought about setting up camp and then cooking but I was already hungry so opted for a chippy in Gullane before setting out for a few miles along the John Muir Way to Yellowcraigs beach. Here, it was easy enough to get into the dunes and attempt to find some reasonable shelter from the strengthening winds. However, getting a combination of flattish ground, shelter and a view of some sorts was somewhat problematic and I must have spent a good 30 minutes pacing up and down with my torch before finally settling on a spot. As it was, I should have taken a bit longer. It was only once I had the tent pitched that I discovered it was on top of numerous buckthorn twigs. That saw me spend another good while pulling them out from under the groundsheet before I dared inflate my mattress.
|It seemed flatter in the dark!|
It was around 1am that I first awoke, aware that the wind seemed to have increased and that one of the guy ropes had pulled out with the foot of the tent caving in as a result. Getting out of the tent, I positioned the bike at the windward end and attached the guy ropes through the wheel spokes as a sort of anchor. I wasn't too miffed at having been wakened though. The wind had blown away the clouds revealing a fantastic starlit sky. The winds had definitely turned though and the rest of the rest of the night turned out to be extremely noisy despite me trying to bury my head in the sleeping bag.
|Fidra Lighthouse was a constant companion through the night|
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