It’s not a great nights sleep. There is a ton of noise outside and because the window doesn’t close properly, I can’t block it out. I’m damn glad it’s not cold, because otherwise it would have been bitter here. At least I now know how Raskolnikov felt like in his draughty garret. My back is feeling better this morning, which is a relief.

The room gives me another joyful surprise when I go to use the shower. The last person who used it decided to turn it off at the wall rather than on the shower unit. As a result, when I turn the power on, it springs to life with the water aimed directly out the shower door and onto my towel. I rectify the situation and then begin the Ullapool Shower War. It goes as follows:

· Press button – water comes out, then stops

· Press button again – same result

· Hold the button in – works briefly, then water stops (The shower, by the way, is amusing itself by alternating between scalding and freezing)

· Jam the button in place to get a constant stream of water

· Move the shower head to a position above me. Shower head comes off in my hand

· Replace shower head, which now faces the wall

· Attempt to adjust shower head and shower fitting comes off in my hand as it was clearly not secured properly

· Finally shower one handed. No wonder the last person just turned it off at the wall

Having survived the USW, I head down for the wonder that will be my “Continental Breakfast”. (By the way, have you ever wondered which continent this is from?). The FBI continues to impress with its’ commitment to service as the waitress wanders around with an expression on her face that implies she has been sucking lemons all morning. I look past her unresponsive form to see what is laughingly called a “breakfast buffet” strewn over the bar of the pub. She doesn’t speak to me but grudgingly confirms that I can sit anywhere when I force her to engage me in conversation. I deliberately sit at the only table with a Reserved sign on it. I impatiently await anything resembling service.

(To give you an idea of the quality of the buffet, the bread is a sliced loaf which is elegantly served in the plastic bag.)

I decided not to pay for anything but I am lured away from this position by something described as Ullapool Smoked Salmon. This turns out to be scrambled eggs with a couple of slices of salmon and one slice of toast. Taste nice, but not worth the £12 they are charging.

Outside is glorious with a much better view of the loch and mountains.

Today I’m off to Shieldaig. Should be some waterfalls and a falconry en route. Showers were predicted today but it’s currently sunny with clear skies. As I head off I pass a line of motor-homes waiting to get into the petrol station. I’d seen something about this on FB a couple of days ago. I head off, glad that I don’t have to refuel.

My first stop is at CorrieShalloch Gorge. I’m there too early for the main car park, so I head up the hill slightly to the overflow car park, where I am treated to the lovely sight of a man from a motor-home taking an indiscreet piss in the hedge. There is a path here with a circular walk, so I head off down it. It is sheltered amid trees for the most part, but there are some fantastic views down thegorge and over the mountains opposite. Part way round, I come across a footbridge to the other side, which is another one like Smoo Cave and it shakes alarmingly as you step on it. As the gorge below disappears to unseen depths, this is a much more alarming prospect.

I meet up with a Scottish Couple who are completing the same circular path. The lady is disappointed and says there isn’t much to see. Granted, it’s missing a troupe of dancing elephants, but it is a satisfyingly deep hole in the ground and I really enjoy my walk around.

I head back up towards the car, my back twinging enough to make me decide not to progress up to the main area of the Falls. Instead I open the gate to surprise a coachload of German tourists who are clustered around it, clearly nervous about daring to open it. They look first surprised, then sheepish as I amble past them.

There are a lot more motor-homes on this section and I follow one out of the gorge as it plods along at 35 mph. I spot an opportunity and I and 2 motorbikes tank down the next spectacular stretch of road. Which of course, has nowhere I can stop and take a bloody photo!

I head down to Dundonnell where I stop to take some pictures at the side of the loch, and then proceed to an amazing beach at Gruinard Bay.

The road from Aultbea to Poolewe is a really fun road, spoiled by the number of motor-homes which are a serious pain along here. I get stuck behind one who is blithely ignorant of the queue he is causing behind him. He doesn’t need somewhere to pull over to take a photo – he just stops in the middle of the road! I find somewhere to stop and let him get a decent distance ahead. Just as I’m getting ready to go a coach goes past and I gloomily predict I will now be stuck behind him. Not so – he pulls over as soon as he can to let us past. What a class act!

As I head down to Badachro along a very exciting single track road, I can see that it’s slowly getting cloudier. But it’s still sunny when I get to Victoria Falls. Surprisingly, there is a signpost indicating the wall to the Falls. Just the one, though. This is a lovely little walk, especially as the sun refuses to give up and is making it really pleasant. The falls are very photogenic, but it’s not quite the same as the mighty Zambezi.

I head along Loch Maree and stop several times to take some more pictures.

Then to Beinn Eighe, which is another wasted opportunity. There is a visitors centre here – but it’s completely unstaffed and no retail opportunities at all. There are 4 walks of differing lengths and difficulties, but no signage to tell you where they start. The hides for observing the bird life are great, but the rest of this place (and the entirety of Scotland) needs some bloody signs!

I then head down to Torridon which is at the end of a very exciting single track road. I go into the Torridon General Stores for a late lunch: cappuccino, black pudding & egg roll and a slice of salted caramel sponge. Eaten sat at a table while the locals doing their shopping peer at you and furtively make signs against the Evil Eye.

I then drive down to Shieldaig and my overnight accommodation at the Tigh an Eilean hotel. It is beautifully situated at the water’s edge and is really attractive. I ask the receptionist how to pronounce the name of the hotel and she shrugs and makes something up. She politely explains that she doesn’t really know as she is foreign – indeed, she has the sort of accent that appears about 23 of the way through Eurovision. I head upstairs. The stair are a death trap as the ceiling is only about 5ft9” in height. The room is very nice, though I change my mind about opening a window as I am directly above the bin storage area.

I’ve booked dinner for 18:00. This is my last night in Scotland, so I mean to make the most of it. Beforehand, I head down to what is rather grandly referred to as the Residents Bar. This is basically a room with comfortable seating and a drinks fridge at hotel minibar prices. But it’s my last night, so I splurge £2.50 on a can of Diet Coke. This must be what the Romans felt like during the worst excesses of Nero!

They have a seafood platter on the menu. I’ve never had one, although I’ve seen a friend of mine demolish one. It has langoustines on it, which I have never had, so I decide to give it a go. I match it with a glass of Chardonnay and decide to order the Scottish cheese plate for dessert. The waitress recommends the pannacotta, so I change to that.

The seafood platter arrives and I’m glad that I ordered the small one. Quite quickly there is an issue – it’s all stone cold. I had never actually realised that a seafood platter would be served cold. Eating it becomes quite challenging and I discover that I really hate the taste of cold shellfish. (The exception is the smoked salmon on the plate, which is about 4 times the amount that I had for breakfast). I give up about halfway through, much to the consternation of the waitress who is sure that she warned me it would be cold. I am equally sure that she didn’t, but I let it go.

At least I made the effort – the person on the table next to me doesn’t and I overhear them ordering a Chicken Pakora and a Meat Feat Pizza!

The meal is finished with a lime pannacotta and orange sorbet. The pannacotta doesn’t wobble, but both taste delicious.

I finish the day with a wonder along the water’s edge, enjoying the quiet and the view – and then enjoying a sign I find on the community noticeboard.

I slowly head back to my room. It’s nearly over. Last day tomorrow – and rain is forecast.