The weather gods could not have been kinder to us today, as we woke to glorious blue skies, peppered with fluffy white clouds. My enthusiasm for the day ahead was only tempered by the slow realisation that the greatly improved weather would mean the Jubbster would wear his shorts! Sadly, I was proved correct. Not sure what was more blinding, the sunshine or his white legs.
Breakfast was a chaotic affair with Webbo resorting to subterfuge in order to secure a cold sausage sandwich, and some purloined yoghurts for his lunch. That lad does like a bargain! You can take the boy out of Yorkshire.....well, you know the rest.
The table next to us was occupied by and American couple, who insisted in raving about their 'wunnerful' holiday in 'Scatland', wherever that is. I believe Mr Trump has built a golf course there however.
Anyway, Day 2's walking commenced later than hoped and with 22 miles ahead of us we were hoping to make good time on the flat stretches along the shores of Loch Lomond - we could not have been more wrong! Despite the glorious weather and the remarkably beautiful scenery, the going was as tough as I've ever experienced. Constant, rocky, short shap inclines and declines made for thigh burning, slow going.
Top performer of the day was Paul who again raced ahead of the rest of us slackers. This was despite (or probably due to) his insistence on wearing Hush Puppies rather than proper walking shoes like real men wear. Anyhow, our incredulity that he would even consider such a choice was well and truly parked, as he skipped from rock to rock like a mountain goat, before disappearing into the distance.
With yesterday's 19 miles still weighing heavy in the legs, I truly believed we would never, EVER get to Beinglas Farm, where we were staying. After a NINE HOUR slog it finally hoved into view, and the lager and the venison casserole in the bar, that followed a hot shower in the room could not have been more welcome. Paul of course, was first home, and sat drumming his fingers on the table for a good 15 minutes waiting on me appearing over the hill (it was my round apparently).
Tomorrow consists of another 22 miles, and I'm freaking out at the thought of it!
Time for bed!
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| Morning breaks over Loch Lomond |
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| Good grief! |
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| The bonnie, bonnie banks... |
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| The views get better and better..... |
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| North end of Loch Lomond |
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| Way marker looking South |
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| Hungry native |
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