Now some of you won’t like my inconsistent use of capitals in blog titles but when you’ve had a few (plastic) glasses of whisky and are writing on your phone in the tent you sometimes can’t be arsed.

Like the beasts of steamy discipline that we are we set the alarm for 7, got up at 7.45 and started walking at 8.30, along the Glen over the top from the Red Bothy and into Aviemore via the Burma Road (not sure why it’s called that but the views were glorious) feeling disproportionately shagged for a mere 10 miles. We passed some lovely pigs too. Spotty ones.

On Platform One we met the good Doctor who had travelled from York and that was a very very joyous reunion for all three of us I think. 

We washed clothes bathed drank beer and are a lot of cakes; the whole night was one of aceness, lots of walkers together talking gear routes and shite and quaffing a lot of beer. Anyway our rest day wasn’t really a restful one. But we met Pongo and Dave and those were our most joyous re-encounters, as we felt a good rapport, warmth, and respect for those two. And Nick but I’ve been accused of fancying him. Which I don’t. But I would if I was a woman or gay. But I’m neither.