WHW - Day 9: Drymen to Milngavie (12 miles)

We woke feeling worse for wear on this, our last day on the West Highland Way. Despite the rest, my shins were still agony and Kathleen's blisters weren't looking too pretty. We patched them up as best as we could and prepared for the off. It was at this point that James delivered an absolutely cracking bit of satire on our wigwam: he comes into the hut and tells us that "a six-foot chicken is outside and says he wants his hoose back!". Class!

We skipped breakfast as we wanted an early start, so James and Susan drove us back towards Drymen where we left the path the day before to ensure we walked every mile of the Way. After saying our goodbyes, we set off feeling hungry, tired and sore and not really in the same cheery spirit as when we started this trip so many days previously. Still, we only had to get through the day and beer, baths and bed would be our reward.

We hobbled on, and almost immediately started fantasising about breakfast. Unfortunately, it being Easter Monday, all the wee shops and cafes we passed were shut. It was approaching noon and the combination of pain, tiredness and hunger was making us a bit grumpy. We just put our heads down and got on with it, as neither of was in the mood for anything else. We eventually found our oasis at the Beech Tree Inn in Drumgoyne. After eating we came up with an cunning plan to get through the remaining miles - self medication with beer and painkillers. Despite being only just lunchtime, we washed down a few ibuprofen with a couple of pints of Stella and waited for the blessed numbness to come. It seemed to do the trick so we hauled on the packs and were off, much restored.

This last stage couldn't be more different from the morning's walking. We felt much better and enjoyed the easy walking and chatting with other walkers who were just starting their treks up to Fort William. We were impressed when we spotted huge buzzards circling above at exactly the spot where the map in our guide book had a drawing of buzzards. Once we had passed through Mugdock Country Park we knew we were on the home straight. We had great fun reminiscing about the previous days and remembering the wrong turns, dramatic scenery, booze-ups, hangovers and laughs along the Way.

We got into Milngavie and posed by the obelisk for the obligatory victory photo, although for most people this is the starting point. A guy working in a nearby cafe commented that we were a bit late starting the walk and Kathleen took great pleasure in telling him that we were, in fact, finished and heading home! We strolled over to the train stop, noticed the train in the station ready to go and used our last bit of energy to run and made it on with seconds to spare.


West Highland Way... done!

WHW - Day 8: Rowardennan to Drymen (15 miles)

James and Susan declined our invitation to join us on the next stage of our walk, opting instead to drive to Drymen. The good news was that they would ferry our bags while we trotted on behind. We made arrangements to meet in Balmaha for lunch and Kath and I headed off. The section of the loch between Rowardennan and Balmaha is absolutely chocka, due to road access so close to the water and it being a nice Easter Sunday, so it felt increasingly like we were heading towards civilization and the end of the Way as we marched on the road dodging walkers, jetskiers, caravans and campers all out to enjoy their day.

As we approached Balmaha, Kathleen started developing blisters, and I got agonising shin splints. This wasn't good as we still had miles to go to Drymen after lunch, and that included a walk over the top of Conic Hill just outside Balmaha. We decided that a good long lunch stop might be the best remedy, so we met up with James and Susan and went to the local watering hole for beer and food. They had already been up Conic Hill earlier in the day, and we even seen pictures of James at the top to prove it. From their accounts it wouldn't be too difficult, but with our various ailments I wasn't looking forward to it.

After lunch we headed off and made slow progress. Despite my shin splints getting worse, we went for the optional diversion to the summit of the hill. It was definitely worth it, as the view across Loch Lomond was stunning. What followed was a bit of a slow trudge as blisters and shin splints reduced our enjoyment of the next stage of the walk.

We traipsed into Drymen and headed to the pre-arranged meeting point pub. James and Susan were nowhere to be seen, and after a quick call we discovered that they were in the swankier Winnock Hotel bar, as the other pub was a bit too skanky for their tastes. We all agreed that the pub grub on offer in the hotel was beneath us as well. So, despite me and Kathleen looking like tramps, we went to the hotel restaurant for a slap-up meal and some good wine. Perfect! Dinner was a nice, unrushed affair and after the last drop of wine was drunk we got a taxi to our lodgings for the night.

We had a "wigwam" booked at Easter Drumquhassle Farm and I must admit to being a bit underwhelmed by the accomodations. It was basically just a hut, with bench-style seating around a central table that converted into beds by laying the back boards around the table. After literally making our beds, I took a look a Kathleen's blisters. The plasters on them where looking a bit filthy, so we decided to take them off and let the blisters dry out overnight. Peeling the plasters slowly was causing Kath too much pain, so I convinced her to let me yank it off in a waney. This turned out to be a very bad move, as a massive chunk of skin came off and the raw, exposed wound started to ooze blood and wouldn't stop. We tried to cover the blisters with "liquid skin" stuff and eventually got the bleeding to stop. After all this stress we all just crashed out, while Kathleen cried herself to sleep.

WHW - Day 7: Inversnaid to Rowardennan (7 miles)

We crashed pretty hard the previous evening, and an early night and a good kip was just what we needed. We were up, fed, packed down and away bright and early and set off with a sense of anticipation for the next stop. We would be meeting James, Snelling and Susan in Rowardennan later in the day and the promise of seeing familiar faces and having the traditional campsite booze-up was enough to get us storming through the easy seven miles ahead.

As we neared Rowardennan, we spotted a mental Alsation running towards us. No, it wasn't Estelle, but James' dog Dana! James rounded the corner a few seconds later, looking pristine in his Daz-white trousers. It was at this point we noticed that, after seven days on the road with just one set of clothes, we stank like dead skunks and were manky wee fegs. Ah well, we were kind of used to the stink by now.

We strolled back toward the campsite, filling James in on our trip while Dana went loopy in the woods. When we arrived at the campsite, James and Susan had already arrived, claimed their spot and were setting up camp. I just dumped my stuff, grabbed a beer and started to play with the dog. I did notice a real stink while I was petting Dana, but I didn't know if it was the dog or me. That was until I seen that she had been rolling in squirell shit while running around the woods and it was all over my hands. James had to give the smelly mutt an impromtu shampoo, while I scrubbed up at the loch.

James stayed with us until after dinner then headed off home with the dog. The rest of us settled down in front of the fire. We headed into the tents reasonably early as the rain had come on, and a really boring couple that Snelling used to know from his days working in Gabriels had spotted him and decided to pitch camp beside us.

WHW - Day 6: Crianlarich to Inversnaid (13 miles)

I woke up to an absolutely shocking hangover. My throat was killing me – a sure sign that I had been snoring loudly all night and most likely pissing off the other guys in the dorm no end. I staggered to the shower to rinse the beer sweat off, packed up my clothes that were strewn all over and around my bed then went to see what state Kathleen was in. Not a good one. She looked like I felt and was suffering badly too. Not to worry, only thirteen miles to cover today! We dragged our sorry arses to the railway platform, where the wee shop opens for breakfast and slowly and quietly ate several rolls and downed a couple of mugs of coffee. We felt a wee bit better, but still in poor order. While in the pub in Inveroran, someone told us about the Inversnaid Bunkhouse where you can soak outside in the hot tub while the bar staff bring you cold beers on request. Kathleen gave me the puppy dog eyes and we agreed to try and book in as it sounded infinitely more appealing than the wild-camp we had planned. Kathleen hurried to the phone box but came back with a look on her face that said "No Vacancies". Resigned to our fate, we plodded on and rejoined the Way.

After a slow start our hangovers faded a bit and we felt in better spirits and the walking was very easy on this stage. We were still a bit shaky though, evidence of this was Kathleen falling in a stream and having to be hauled out by a teenager who was following behind! I missed the incident as I was under a bridge just up ahead, but still laughed until it hurt (two seconds – then Kathleen hit me) when she told me.

The weather was glorious all morning, but just as we pulled into our lunch stop the heavens opened. We waited in the bar at Beinglas Campsite for the rain to go off and left a bit behind schedule. Shortly after setting off we got our first view of Loch Lomond. Our route would take us along the east bank of the loch, through a difficult path crossed with fallen trees. This proved to be really hard going and slowed our progress considerably. After hours of slogging over rocks, trees and mud it was getting late and we were very tired. The feral goats looked on as we struggled on, desperate to get to the camp before dark.

We got to the place where we would be camping just before sunset and I got busy setting the tent up while Kathleen prepared dinner. Once everything was squared away we enjoyed a fantastic view with disgusting pasta that we were too tired to eat. Soon enough it was dark and we retreated to the tent.

WHW - Day 5: Bridge of Orchy to Crianlarich (13 miles)

Another day, another full Scottish breakfast! As we were going from accommodation to accommodation today I wanted to use one of the baggage services to take our rucksacs and give us a break. I called one and asked if they took bags from North to South and he told me that they wouldn’t as "nobody walks it that way: the mountains are the wrong way round; there are no views and the wind is in your face all day". It was then that I told him I was halfway through the walk and heading south no matter what. How we laughed! I managed to do a deal with a local taxi driver who took our bags down to Crianlarich for a reasonable sum.

We set off with the wind at our backs, our packs in the taxi and feeling great. I think we had toughened up after the initial warm-up stages and were now feeling much stronger. We set a decent pace until we found a herd of about a dozen highland coos in our path. We slowly and gingerly eases passed them (mind you, I do everything gingerly) trying to steer clear of the big horned beasties. Shortly after that I bumped into a former colleague who was walking the Way in the "right" direction and we stopped for a good chat. After all that excitement the rest of the day’s walk was pretty uneventful. We got a sense that we were leaving the wilder country behind us and approaching some easier walking (not strictly true!). This probably contributed to the decision to stay for a few more pints than necessary once we reached Tyndrum at the halfway point. The pub was playing tunes full blast and had a pool table and so was the perfect antidote to all that scenery and nature. It was hard to drag ourselves away but I noticed Kathleen’s pool playing was getting erratic by Stella number three so we pushed on to our final destination. The walking was noticeable slower post-pub but we got into Crianlarich soon enough.

After checking into the Youth Hostel, showering and sorting gear we headed to the pub for dinner. We spotted the other couple heading south that we had seen yesterday and invited ourselves to the table beside them. It turned out that the girl was struggling with the walking and they were calling it a day at this point and heading back home so we had a couple of pints together before they got on the bus. Another couple took the table they had vacated and we got chatting to them. They were an Austrian couple who had come to Scotland for a few days to do some climbing. They had just got off the bus and were planning on walking into the hills that night and finding a camping spot. So it probably wasn’t a good idea to keep them out drinking until 1am, but I didn’t really need to twist their arm that much, well not the bloke's – Tomas – at least. We had a great, impromptu night of drinking, playing pool and ripping the pish out of each other. When we staggered out of the pub I insisted that we tried to sneak them into the hostel, but they were dead set on camping. Kathleen dragged me away and pointed me in the direction of the male dorms.

WHW - Day 4: Kingshouse to Bridge of Orchy (13 miles)

From the moment we stepped out of the hotel we were rained upon. There were only rare and brief pauses in the downpour as we walked on our longest day yet. Despite this we were cheerful enough, having slept in a real bed, eaten good food and drunk a few cold ones the night before. We had also broken out the foot rub for the first time and Kathleen's feet were feeling much improved. Knowing there would be no real hills today, we just had to plod on at a steady pace and we would be in Bridge of Orchy in plenty of time.

The traffic coming in the opposite direction started early and was like Sauchiehall Street on a Saturday. We were nodding, waving and hello-ing all day and had to time our "comfort breaks" wisely and take turns to "keep edgy" to avoid embarrassment. We only seen one other couple going in the same direction as us, the traditional route being South to North.

The WHW crosses Rannoch Moor on this section, which is spectacular in its scale but relatively unchanging as you move through it. This, together with the constant rain and long distance, made for a dreary walk compared to the mountains, glens and lochs we had passed on previous days. By the time we reached the tiny village of Inverornan we were soaked through and a bit miserable. Fortunately this village had exactly what is needed in times like this: a pub! We piled in to dry our clothes and wet our whistles and so, it appeared, had everyone else walking that bit of WHW. The wee pub was full to bursting with dripping walkers all seeking refuge from the elements. We ordered drinks and squeezed onto a bench. Everyone was so glad to be warm and boozing that a real party atmosphere quickly grew and the banter was flying. There was the old fella who had walked the Way every year for twenty-six years, probably in his kilt every time; the three Belgian lads who had RyanAir'ed in from Brussels to walk and camp the way and couldn't quite believe the amount of water pouring from the sky; the Dundonian woman topping up her drink from a water bottle full of whisky who looked like she was planning on flying the rest of the way to Kingshouse and a really friendly family from Glasgow who had roped their tiny, hobbit-sized mum into driving the support vehicle for them. We were all drinking, swapping stories and having a great time but eventually everyone had to push on to their final destinations.

We were soaked to the skin and again didn't fancy the prospect of camping that night. Before we left the pub, I called the West Highland Way Sleeper bunkhouse at Bridge of Orchy to see if they had any beds. Predictably at this late stage in the day they were full so I called the only other accommodation, the Bridge of Orchy hotel and bunkhouse, expecting the same result but they had just had a cancellation and a double room with en-suite was available for £95. At this point, with the rain still chucking it down outside, I would have paid anything so instead of the tent we had a nice warm hotel room to look forward to. You can imagine the look on Kathleen's face when I told her the good news! We made quick work of the last few miles and as we passed the wild campsite I knew I had made the right decision: the ground sloped at thirty degrees and was totally sodden and muddy. We strolled past it and over the bridge to the hotel. Once in the room I ran a roasting hot bath and endeavoured to get as much out of my 95 notes as possible. So with shower cap on I used every lotion and potion while eating my complimentary shortbread with a cup of coffee – fantastic!

We dressed for dinner and instead of Uncle Ben's Instant Rice and Pepperami I had maybe the best steak I've ever eaten. The bar was packed with a wide range of walkers all doing the WHW, from students and Johnny Foreigners through to middle-class Pringle jumpers and pensioners. We didn't last long and, like every night before, we were in bed before 10pm.

WHW - Day 3: Kinlochleven to Kingshouse (8 miles)

We woke next day feeling surprisingly good and got ourselves and our kit together. Another guest at the hotel stopped me near the shower block to ask how we were feeling as he had seen the state of us when we walked in the night before! We scoffed a massive breakfast of porridge, toast and jam followed by a full Scottish before setting off through the village to continue our journey.

The Way was going to take us uphill all morning to its highest point, the big hill known as the Devil's Staircase and feared by all who haven’t walked it before. In truth it isn't too bad a hike and we were very quickly at the top for the obligatory summit photos. The views across to Buachaille Etive Mor and down Glen Coe were stunning but we moved on pretty quickly as the pass was covered in snow and the wind and rain had moved in. This rain kept up all afternoon as we descended to Kingshouse, where we had originally planned to camp at the official wild campsite beside the inn.

I had already decided to try and treat Kathleen to a room in the Kingshouse Hotel that night to make up for yesterday's hard day and once I seen the wet and boggy campsite I decided that I too could do with a treat. I managed to get the last room in the place and we gratefully dragged our wet bags and bodies upstairs. After a fantastic hot bath and a change of clothes we went down for dinner and beer. We were still walking strangely and my hips, knees and feet were feeling the strain, so every trip to the bar was painful. Before too long we headed upstairs to bed. This was really different from the last time I was drinking at the Kingy – that time I ended up trying to swim in 3 inches of river and got my bum midge-bitten to hell.

WHW - Day 2: Glen Nevis to Kinlochleven (12 miles)

We woke up to discover half an inch of ice on the outer wall of the tent, which explained why Kathleen, not being a fan of the cold, had a broken sleep. We later learned that it had been -7C during the night. We dressed, packed up and got brekkie sorted – porridge with sultanas and a couple of squares of Dairly Milk – yummy.

We set off to rejoin the West Highland Way [WHW] and almost immediately I made a navigational error that would have some serious consequences: instead of taking the WHW path, I turned onto a forest path which had very similar features to the correct path. This meant that we were blissfully unaware of the mistake and didn’t spot it until we were two hours down the road and scrambling up the side of a mountain. We had to turn back to the very start of the path which meant losing four hours of what would already be a very long day. There wasn’t much whistling and singing going on at this point. We plodded on and Kathleen, to her credit, didn’t give me too much abuse, even though her feet were aching and the first of her blisters had just begun to appear. Neither of us can give you a great account of the scenery that day as we got our heads down and adopted the motto of the French Foreign Legion that would become our rallying call at times of fatigue or despondency – "March or Die!". We also cannot show you many pictures as we discovered that I had left the memory card for the camera at home, doh!

And so it was that we arrived into Kinlochleven at 8:30pm, just as night was falling and with a very peculiar way of walking - think John Wayne with bad piles. We shuffled into the pub and got the key to the cabin round the back were we would be staying that evening. I went to dump our stuff while Kathleen got the beers and food in. The wee cabins at The MacDonald Hotel were fantastic and we were so glad that we didn’t have to set the tent up. I returned to the pub and drained my first pint in less than two minutes. We had a couple more to celebrate the end of a tortuous day then hobbled to bed.

WHW - Day 1: Fort William to Glen Nevis (2 miles)

Kathleen and I completed the 95-mile stretch of walking paths known as the West Highland Way which joins Fort William in the North of Scotland to Milngavie near Glasgow. What follows is a really quite lengthy account of our trip. Good luck to all who attempt to plough through it!


Sunday 9th April would be a bit of a practice session for the rest of the Way. We took the train to Fort William, heaved on our packs and took them for their first walk of the trip. The target would be Glen Nevis Caravan & Camping site just down the road and sitting under the shadow of Ben Nevis. The walking was fine as we were both in good spirits and really looking forward to the challenges ahead. Our first navigational hiccup of the trip occurred when I took a wrong turn when coming to a junction and took us about a kilometre out of our way. The bonus being that we got to see the not very famous Wishing Stone of Glen Nevis. Not really knowing the ritual for unlocking the powers of the big rock, Kathleen gave it a hug and made her wish. We set of back down the road and quickly found our campsite. Maybe that was her wish?

It took a good while and some additional guy ropes from the site shop to get our new tent up, but once it was done we had our wee home for the night. With this job complete we moved onto dinner, which was a rubbery Dolmio Express Pasta and Sauce. We had great fun reciting the various catchphrases from the spoof Dolmio Ads while cooking up. We had dinner with a bottle of red wine and a view that not many restaurants can compete with.

We crawled into the tent to escape the cold, lit our wee candle lantern and read up on the day ahead before going to sleep. Inevitably, after half a bottle of wine I had to get up to answer the call of nature at around 4am. I wriggled out of my sleeping bag and tent to see a perfectly clear sky with thousands of stars shining and the snow on the Ben lit up by the moonlight. It was amazing enough to wake Kathleen up for, but thought better of it knowing how much she likes her sleep. I also noticed at this point that it was very, very cold!

I fought The Law, and The Law won

Myself and Kathleen headed off to Stirling this weekend to get some fresh air and put in a bit of training for our 95 mile walk of the West Highland Way, which we start next weekend. We finished our packing in a hurry on Saturday morning then rushed off to Queen Street station with just enough time to get a coffee and a baguette for the road before the train left. Once on, we woke up a bit and started looking forward to the weekend.

We had planned a walk that included a circuit of some of the Ochil Hills - namely The Law, Ben Cleuch and Ben Ever but before we could set off we had to drop the bags with our civilian clothes off at the B&B as arranged. Now Kathleen had said the the Hotel Manager had sounded a bit strange on the phone so maybe we shouldn't of been surprised when no-one answered the doorbell or phone. We waited for a wee while until another guest opened the door then we went in and shouted "Hello!" at the top of our voices before giving up, leaving our bags with a note then left for the bus with fingers crossed that our bags and a room would be waiting for us when we returned.


Our hotel manager "If you'd have left your bags on a Wednesday, I'd say Yeeeeeeess!"

We arrived at Tillicoultry (near Stirling) later than planned so didn't have time to go look at furniture or Dougie Donnelly. We set off up the first hill and were very quickly puffing and panting. The route up "The Law" includes five hundred metres of direct ascent and we both felt every one of them as other walkers passed us by and left us for dead. The surrounding hills and views of the Lowland plains of Scotland made up for it though and we plodded on to the summit. The top of The Law was totally exposed and the winds were so strong that we had to quickly move on to avoid getting blown off.


Action Manson prepares to assualt the hill


On top of The Law, with the Scottish Lowlands stretching into the distance.

The rest of the ascent to Ben Cleuch was pretty easy and we stopped for a flask of coffee and some lunch while huddled behind a dilapidated stone shelter at the summit cairn. By Scottish standards the weather had been fantastic all day, but it was really cold at the top so we headed down via our last hill and into Alva where we and everyone else on the High Street was told to "f*ck off" by the local jakey before getting the bus back to Stirling. We finally managed to check-in and finished off a great day with a wash, change of clothes and a nice meal and wine in Stirling town centre.

Neither of us could walk very well the next day so we abandoned plans to climb the steps to the top of the Wallace Monument and just went to Stirling Castle instead. Some say this castle is better than Edinburgh's and I'd probably agree. We had a good wander around, looking like the tourists we were with the audio guide playing. If it hadn't been chucking it down with rain we might of stayed even longer.


At Stirling Castle, with the Wallace Monument beyond

After the castle, we had some lunch and pints then headed off back to sunny Glasgow.

End of an era

Thursday was my last day with the Royal Bank of Scotland.

I have been contracting at the bank since January 2001 and was initially only supposed to be there for a few weeks. I happened to be in the right place at the right time as the bank was embarking upon a series of acquisitions that, like my contract, just kept rolling on.

I had a joint leaving do with Jonathan Broster, a colleague and friend who worked on some of the same projects as I did. He's off on a career break to learn how swear, and possibly cook, like Gordon Ramsay, with the long-term aim of working as a chef. Good luck, JB - may you never need to work in HR again!

The do itself was a good one and the first of many tequila shots were salted and lemoned before 6pm. This was followed by too many sambucas to count and we had some early casualties.

A former member of our team, Raymund, had made a surprise visit up from London for the party and the crowd moved on to his brother's pub in Edinburgh. I don't know when the last man left, but the party raged well past closing time as everyone's favourite - the lock-in - was in effect. I left about 3am and went back to my mate David's house, as not only had he helped to arrange my excellent leaving gifts, he had also very kindly put me up for the night. Cheers Dave!

Camping Trip in Glencoe

Myself, Bob and James headed up to Glen Coe on Friday night to get a head start on a camping trip we had planned for Saturday. We got to Glen Coe in time to squeeze an hour or two of drinking and catching up on each others news before closing time at the Clachaig Inn. We staggered up the road to our bunkhouse where we had to tackle the climb to the top of the three-storey bunkbeds, which was hard enough sober.


Heading back from the pub.

After a wee lie-in, we stocked up on food from the local shop and set off for Coire Gabhail (The Lost Valley) where we would be setting up camp. This was a tough hike for me as I hadn't really done much exercise since beginning my studies.


Me on top of a big rock.


Our campsite.

We got to the campsite and James and I set up the tents while Bob had a wander and cut down most of the trees in the valley. James done us proud with a great looking fire that unfortunately put out a midges fart worth of heat. It was so cold that we were in the tent for 8pm draining the hipflasks and talking shite. It was great to get together with the lads as we hadn't been out since Hogmanay. We had a good laugh and some serious chat, and despite the sub-zero temperatures it was an excellent weekend.


Bevvying in the tent.

Quick roundup

I realise I haven't posted here for a while, so here is a quck roundup of what's been happening:

• I passed the last of my professional exams, which means I can now move forward with my visa application for residency in Australia.


• Had a fantastic Hogmanay bash in Glasgow. You can read about this in minute detail on Bob's blog.


• I have been working on my application forms for the Aussie visa since the turn of the year. The hard work is done and I will be submitting the application soon.


• My five year contract with The Royal Bank of Scotland will be coming to an end on the 31st March. I am really looking forward to finding new work, hopefully closer to home.