The day started after shoddy sleep (camping is better) with some much appreciated feedback from our good friend Fraser The Wino. As yon Wino is a writer I sought his feedback as to whether this blog was shite or acceptable. Wino is sensitive and I appreciated this feedback on particular:

“Maybe over stepping the line a bit with the Pongo description, especially as the nature of the whiff is not revealed. If the aroma is cheap perfume then no bother, but if it’s of a more bodily nature then offence could be taken.”

The aroma was of the bodily variety.
Luckily as we headed out we were overjoyed to bump into first Pongo and just after The Geologist who we have renamed The Firestarter, but more of the Firestarter later.
I was able to read Wino’s feedback to Pongo and grateful to receive affirmation that the description was acceptable due to its truthful content. Phew. But it was ace to meet Pongo again.
More joy was received telling The Firestarter just how much fun he had given us watching him run repeatedly betwixt fire and river, and we left him a bit rueful as he thought he’d got away with it, unobserved.
Anyway, today we started and ended very shagged. Having stopped for cooked breakfast in Invergarry, 5 miles on we found ourselves in the wonderful and wonderfully hosted Thistle Cafe, having quiche, chips beans and two deserts (Nick had three, chuff knows how). We think we might be the first people to walk for two weeks and put on weight.
Our route took us up Glen Buck and over the flat tops; we stopped for a cup of tea at Blackburn Bothy where we bumped into two able pups, Sam and Will. Nick and I cast our minds back to being their age and concluded that at their age we were both total wankers and incapable of even thinking about this kind of trip. So we remain impressed with their maturity and efforts. Also, as Nick was about to partake we were grateful of spotting their arrival in advance.
Anyway after this we cruised into Glen Tarf and followed the Tarf upstream. This is a stunning dramatic wooded Glen and it’s beauty must remain a secret, as must the bothy at its head nestled within trees and between a fork in the river, and below cliffs. The views down the Glen are stunning. Somewhere else to return.
We cooked in the bothy with some folk who had the stove going and, less welcomed, more allowed us, to share the warmth; they are here for a week undertaking repairs. They said they’d been coming for years and never met any ‘casual’ visitors which we took as a sort of compliment. But being outside in our tents hearing the wind and the river, the elements of the hills, that’s one of the reasons we are here. It might be warm in there but outside there is a connection worth more than warmth. We learnt that yesterday, dipping our toes in civilisation felt like somewhere we truly did not want to be. There is a joy and connectivity with the Earth in just walking and sleeping on it. I’m not even drinking much whisky. But that’s only because I’ve not packed enough.
Tomorrow brings the second of 4 consecutive days walking, we have decided to abandon the rest day in favour of reducing two 17 miles days to two 14 milers and a 6. We don’t want to be too shagged for disco dancing action in Aviemore. Nick sure can move.