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.