New Thing #33 – Land’s End to John O’Groats

Well, I’ve done it. After years of wondering what it would be like to travel from the southern tip to the northern reaches of the United Kingdom I now know: it is long, boring but very, very beautiful. I completed the trip this weekend with three chums, a reliable Ford hire car and almost no problems. Which is a pity because problems and mishaps usually make for more entertaining copy.

We left London promptly on Thursday afternoon in the rain and began the long trip down South to Land’s End. Taking it in turns to drive, we made good progress and ventured deep into the West Country. Sustained by ample amounts of service station food and warm beers (for the non-drivers, obviously), we arrived at our destination as dusk settled. As you will see from the pictures below, it is not the picturesque little landmark that one is led to believe.

Land’s End has been commercialised almost beyond recognition, with 4D Sherlock Holmes experiences, craft shops, an old helicopter and a pirate-themed ghost ride. Luckily though, they also had a pub and this is where we headed to celebrate our arrival long into the night with traditional West Country drinks of cider Stella and gin tequila.

We awoke the next morning to find that in our drunken state we’d managed to camp on some sort of live firing range, dangerously close to the edge of a cliff. Deciding it was best not to push our luck, and mindful of the long trip up to Edinburgh ahead of us, we rose quickly and performed the necessary poses at the Land’s End sign before hitting the road.

The trip to Edinburgh was long and, to be honest, a bit arduous. Pretty much all motorway, our hangovers ensured those not driving slept and those in the driving seat mainlined Lucozade and salted snack products. Shell and BP service stations were doing a brisk trade in Pringles, Quavers, Gatorade and of course, Ginsters from the 52 New Things crew. As we left Devon and Somerset, the landscape flattened out and became noticeably more industrial. We hooned it up the M5, skirting Wales and flirting with Birmingham. Green fields gave way to endless housing estates and factories but the Ford Mondeo’s cruise control option meant we were strolling along and making good time at little effort.

As the M5 turned into the M6, we hit our first and only real traffic jam as we bisected Manchester and Liverpool. After 2 hours of wrangling, swearing, shortcuts, longcuts and finally a little bit of violence towards the sat nav, we made it through the other side and were in sight of Edinburgh. We made it into the city and to our designated stop at the remarkable time of around 8.30pm. We were staying with one of our parties brother-in-law – an affable chap with the excellent name Nick who flew planes for a low cost Irish airline for a living. I won’t go into too much detail as to our hijinks for the night as that will be covered in New Thing #34.

But we did drink a little bit and consequently our early start on Saturday morning turned into a somewhat leisurely 10.30am start. John O’Groats is a surprising 6 hours away from Scotland’s capital and we had a long drive ahead of us. As we made our way into the famous highlands, the scene changed from pretty city to dramatic country. We soon found ourselves surrounded by steep mountains and pine-covered hills – it was stunning. Regular food stops brought with it strange encounters with local Scots, whose heavy accents often made every conversation twice as long as it needed to be. We did manage to get hold of two £1 notes though.

We almost didn’t want the drive to end. Apart from Inverness. That was a bit dull. But after around five hours (but definitely not after we had a competition to see who could get the car up to a top speed of 125mph) John O’Groats came into sight. It seemed slightly less built up than Land’s End, although it did have a tacky craft shop (shut), a Costa Coffee (shut) and a cafe (also shut). It was all a bit……well, sad really.

Look mum, I made it.

We took some photos in the sunshine and threw some rocks we’d picked up from Land’s End into the North Sea. It was an incredible feeling to think we’d managed to drive from one end of Great Britain to the other in just under 2 days. It really drove home how small this Island is and how tightly packed we all are. Well, except in Scotland where instead people live in the cities and then in tiny little villages with just thistle and the odd goat for company.

We camped on John O’Groats for the night and toasted our success with a BBQ and some whiskey. Sadly not even Scotland’s finest triple malt allowed us to sleep through the ensuing gale that night and after our tents had been literally uprooted and us soaked, we decamped for an uncomfortable night in the car.

The following day was a long, hungover, testy drive home to London from the tip of Scotland (Yes, I know it isn’t the Northern most part of the country, but let’s just pretend it is for artistic effect). Ironically the day was a warm one and we spent the journey listening to the cricket bathed in sunshine. 20 hours after getting into the car at 2.30am that morning, we arrived home – tired but esquisitly proud to have seen the length of our country, albeit from a Ford Mondeo.

Distance travelled: 1,955.5 miles
Fuel bought: £230
Z-list celebs spotted: Two
Scotch Eggs eaten: One
Monsters in Loch Ness spotted: None

More photos below