This morning was a cultural walk to whet the appetite. We went down the path towards Ousdale Broch, which is basically a little path without much excitement, except at the end, where the foundations of an old round tower remain, which was once something like a defensive chalet from the Iron Age. There isn't much left standing, but there are panels that explain that this area was forcibly evicted during the Highland Clearances. In other words, the history here is not exactly for children. The best thing was that we were completely alone and could sniff around the ruins at our leisure.

After this slow-motion walk, it was time to move the mothership. We stopped briefly at Berriedale Braes Viewpoint, a spectacular viewpoint where you can see the fjord snaking between green hills and cliffs, and where the trucks sweat ink to climb the hill. Not me, of course, I was like a marquis in my travel cage, with a biscuit in my mouth.

In Dunbeath, we made a tactical stop at the SPAR to replenish supplies, and then we continued towards Latheronwheel, a quiet port where the wildest thing was the sound of the seagulls. Pretty, yes, but without much doggy activity. Then we passed by Lybster, with a cuter harbour, a small white lighthouse that cries out to be on a postcard, and views where even I was looking at the horizon as if pondering life.

But the highlight of the day was the Whaligoe Steps. They are more than 300 steps carved into the cliff that go down to a natural harbour hidden among rocks. Centuries ago, women used to climb up there loaded with baskets full of fish. I went down trotting like a champion, although the climb was slower, and it was obvious on Daddy Edu's face that he's still not one hundred percent.

From there, with our legs trembling a bit, we headed for Wick, which, besides having a short and effective name, has a Tesco with a petrol station, which was vital. The tank was drier than Daddy Edu's throat with his cough. We filled everything that could be filled: the tank, jerry cans, and shopping bag.

And from there, without further ado, to our resting place: a cliff overlooking the sea and the ruins of Wick Castle. In Park4Night they say that this sometimes gets like a caravan festival, but today there was only one more, and us, of course, with the best views. From here you can see the sea crashing against the rocks, a piece of tower that still resists the wind and a couple of hikers who look like poets.

However, today we didn't leave the camper. Daddy Edu is still coughing, I'm still having my professional nap, and on top of that... the car has decided to join the drama! When he puts the turn signal on, the rear lights do nothing, but the position lights start flashing as if they were at an illegal rave. Something electrical is causing problems. So tomorrow, while I take care of sleeping and keeping an eye on the bread, Daddy Edu will have to become a self-taught electrical mechanic.

We'll sleep with a view, yes, but also with a to-do list. But hey, with these cliffs and this silence... everything is better.