Contact — Penelope Janu

Setting the Scene:

After a warm and restless evening (our room stayed at a rather too balmy 30 degrees, confirming that Scottish hotels are built with the aim of keeping heat in, not letting it out), we walked 22 km today. The temperature was a balmy 23 degrees and, much as I have become pathologically afraid of being bitten my midges (pretty much the equivalent of funnel web spiders - except they don’t kill you), we only saw them at a distance. Mr Darcy and I enjoyed spectacular highland views, contended cows and black and white sheep, and our boots experienced quite a lot of country lane walking.

An environmental initiative:

The flower photo is evidence that a local innovation, On the Verge, where community groups plant native flowers to encourage food sources for bees, is working well. And what a wonderful idea! 🌸🌸🌸 Not only that, the colourful flowers at the sides of the roads as we walked into our evening’s destination, Dryman, were a welcome diversion from the afternoon uphill climb.

Walking in tandem:

Mr Darcy’s legs stiffened in the final few kilometres (the words ‘my body is shutting down’ were groaned more than once), and he took to complaining about the route, and how he thought walking around a grassy rise would have been much more efficient in a physical and psychological sense than walking over the top of it), but we are reasonably healthy, and anticipating dinner and a well earned rest this evening.

Our accomodation is the Ashbank B & B, which is not only picturesque with a lovely host, Robbie, but very well appointed (providing a hot shower, tea and shortbread!) and right in the centre of a lovely little town. Dinner will be at the Clachan. which claims to be ‘the oldest public house in Scotland’ or, if Mr Darcy can’t walk that far, in the closest pub we hobble into.

The good, the bad, and the I didn’t expect that…

Good: Every walker that overtook us (or that we, occasionally, overtook), not only said hello, but was very happy to exchange a ‘where are you from?’ and ‘where are you headed tonight?’ There is no competition on these walks, and we all want the other walkers to simply enjoy their day and feel a sense of achievement at the end of it.

Bad: When it comes to having a pee, men (in my experience) simply face a tree, a thistle, a bump in the road, and point and shoot. Women have to pull down their hiking trousers or leggings, squat (as difficult as Olympic wresters make it look) and maintain a crouch for a not insignificant period of time. When Darcy and I hiked across England, and around Mt Blanc, we’d trek miles with barely seeing a soul. And even when we did, there were hills and boulders and stately trees to hide behind. On day one of our walk in Scotland, we were on picturesque (but not at all private) paths, country lanes, and hillside trails with very little privacy. By the end of the day, the pelvic floor exercises were more taxing than the walking!

Different: Black pudding for breakfast? I think not.