Contact — Penelope Janu

The weather was far better today (though yesterday’s squalls, sideways rain, mists, winds and flooded paths - as well as the 31km hike - made for a memorable day) . We enjoyed the views from the isolated and historic Kingshouse Hotel (which has been beautifully modernised) and we also used the drying room for my boots and our bags. Mr Darcy made the most of the bath , and I was happy to take a shower with good water pressure.

Today’s hike was 14km, much of it weaving through mountainous passes and hills (to the left, right, straight ahead and behind us!) on cobbled mountain paths. There was also a significant elevation, known as the Devil’s Staircase, which offered spectacular views. To quote Robbie Burns’s Yon Wild Mossy Mountains:

Not Gowrie's rich valley, nor Forth's sunny shores,
To me hae the charms o'yon wild, mossy moors;
For there, by a lanely, sequestered stream,
Besides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.

If Mr Darcy was a fan of Robbie Burns, I’m sure he would have recited this poem (I quoted a lot of Burns when I wrote Up on Horseshoe Hill, as Finn Blackwood was Scottish!.) But back to Mr Darcy’s song…

We were at the end of our hike and I was hobbling down a particularly steep (and prolonged) stretch of path, when Mr Darcy quoted an ode that his mother used to sing - The Happy Wanderer:

I love to go a-wandering,
Along the mountain track,
And as I go, I love to sing,
My knapsack on my back.
Chorus:
Val-deri,Val-dera,
Val-deri,
Val-dera-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Val-deri,Val-dera.
My knapsack on my back.
I love to wander by the stream
That dances in the sun,
So joyously it calls to me,
"Come! Join my happy song!"

Much as I’m sure this is an excellent song (there was a lot of enthusiasm in a yodelling sense with the Val-derai Val-dera), I’m not sure I needed so much joy at the end of the hike. But… Mr Darcy has all my gear in his backpack (including items I might need ‘just in case’ like clean socks and chocolate), so I tolerated his song. Most importantly I loved his unintentional prompt - two young and enthusiastic singing hikers from Romania who passed us on the track.

And this brings me to my next point. Fellow hikers have been uniformly friendly and helpful. There aren’t so many of us that complete the whole 160km hike in a limited amount of time, so we tend to come across each other occasionally. We started our relationships with a cheery wave and, much as many of us aren’t now as sprightly on our feet as we were at the beginning of the trek, we continue to smile and ask each other how things are going. Mr Darcy and I are on the high end of the age demographic, but the lovely thing about challenging climbs is that there is an equalising factor irrespective of age (and my readers over 50 will appreciate the importance of this!) Darcy and I can offer a blister band aid, or midge cream, or an apricot or biscuit (because we are always prepared!) to a young hiker. And they are likely to offer a sympathetic ear, weather advice or a tip on the next town (and where to go for a coffee or beer). We met a group of Italian cyclists in a large drain (literally) and they very enthusiastically offered us a shot of coffee. Many hikers spend their nights in tents, while we are ensconced in B & B’s and small hotels, but we all meet up in the local pub every night and exchange a word or two on the day’s adventures. I really love this aspect of the hike!

And tonight’s accomodation at the Alt Na Leven? Excellent! Mr Darcy thinks it’s more Mr Collins’s taste than his own, but I think it charming. So many towels and such interesting wallpaper. The rooms we stay in vary every night. Sometimes the memories are excellent, sometimes less so. The brioche bun? Choosing between midges and a small room with no ventilation? The grumpy host who insisted I had to have the ‘full Scottish breakfast’ (including the black pudding, haggis, mushrooms and buttered toast, even though I wanted plain toast, bacon and an egg? But on the whole, the hosts are generous, the showers are hot and the beds are comfortable. Tonight’s accomodation is pictured!

The good:

Beautiful scenery (yet again) and it stopped raining. Also, a delicious meal at the local hotel.

The bad:

Mr Darcy’s leaking boots have gone to boot heaven (which is actually kind of nice, because they have joined my boots on the deceased boots boot rack). Both sets of boots had been brilliant for two earlier long distance walks, but they self-destructed a few days into this walk. Personally, I blame Covid.

The I didn’t know that:

Tonight when we walked into Kinlochleven’s pub, the bartender said there were no tables left in the cosy bar area overlooking the street, but (he added apologetically), would we mind very much sitting upstairs? We expected a soulless little space, but the views were spectacular. And that’s what we’ve found so often. Beauty is everywhere - including where you least expect to find it 💕