27 April 2011

This weekend - after a rather stressful and busy return to work - I will start to write my report about my trip and will add photos and details regarding the route I took. I very much hope this will interest any other CWT 'ers' out there. Anything to avoid the Royal Wedding (you might be thinking), although with no T.V. I would not be watching it anyway!
I have downloaded about 400 photos and 7 video clips, and will select some of these for this blog.

For now, here are a few selected photos:



Heading towards Shenevall Bothy from Ullapool

Today, after several very solitary days when I was lucky to see even a human footprint, I encountered about 40 people doing a "Mountain Marathon" from Ullapool. I stopped some of them (the more tired ones who weren't looking as if they were going to win!) and asked them to take a photo of me.

On another day, on the way to Kinlochlewe, I came across a very un-timid flock of red deer. I kept expecting them to run away, but they just stood still, watched my every move, and seemed curious enough to want to follow me as I left them. Amazing. I felt very lucky undeed.

This last photo (FOR TODAY!!) is taken on 24th April as I approached the summit of Gleann a' Chaorainn and started the final descent to Glenfinnan (and so-called civilisation). It seemed a long and arduous descent and I was reminded that the last mile of a long walk is nearly always the hardest. Of course I was tired, but my pack was the lightest of the whole trip, as I had run out of food and fuel.

It rained for most of the day, apart from when I was de-camping, and I considered myself to be remarkable lucky.

8th April - Home (Wiltshire) to Inverness Youth Hostel

Cape Wrath Trail Trip Report

Day 1:      8 April 2011

Home (Wiltshire) to Inverness Youth Hostel

(hundreds of miles)

Today I went to work at the Stonehenge School from 7.15 – 12.30 and then rushed home to get changed and get a lift to Southampton airport from my husband. The usual minor catastrophes happened; one of the Cover Supervisors collapsed at school, and I got stuck behind a tractor on the road to Laverstock. (You will be glad to know that the cover supervisor is O.K. and his wedding is proceeding as planned - perhaps this catastrophe should not be referred to as minor...)

But the flights were on time and I made it to Inverness Youth Hostel by 9.30 p.m. despite everything; I even managed not to forget anything crucial. You might be interested to know that my pack weighs 13 kg (exclduing food, fuel and water) and I expect to carry a maximum weight of 16 kg when I am carrying 5 days' worth of food.

In my diary I have written (at 20.29 p.m.) “Oh S***! I was looking out of the (airplane) window and I saw snow on the mountains. And I’m only just in Scotland. Bugger! I just know I’m going to get cold and miserable”. Reader, you will only know how true this prediction was if you read my trip report!

My experience at Inverness Youth Hostel was not very positive. There was an American woman in my dormitory who spent about an hour between 11.30 p.m. and 12.30 a.m. trying to find her phone charger. This activity involved incessant rustling of plastic bags, loud use of zips, and annoying mutterings and tuttings. I was not impressed, as I wanted to go to sleep much earlier and failed miserably. I wish I was more assertive in these situations. However I was buoyed up by the thought that I was going to get up extremely early in the morning so I could get my revenge.

At manchester airport.

The adventure has begun. I am told it is too early for tics and midgets. Small people visit the the highlands later in the year.

9 April - Inverness Youth Hostel to Rosehall

Day 2:      9 April 2011

Inverness Youth Hostel to Rosehall (Achness Hotel)

(11 miles          4 hours walking)

I woke up deliberately and unnecessarily early at 5 a.m. and spent an hour showering and drying my hair with the hairdryer I had brought with me. The American woman was not impressed but got the point, I hope.

This is me about to leave Inverness Youth Hostel on my great adventure.

    

I had my breakfast at Morrison’s this morning and got my first omen about the trip: I was seated at table number 13. I believe I mentioned this in my blog and took a photo of the table number.

I did some shopping in Inverness (which is a lovely town by the way) and bought some meths and a Gelert water bottle in an excellent shop called “Tiso’s”. My water system was two-fold; I had a 'Source' 1l bottle and drinking tube, to which I added an orange-flavour multivitamin tablet for daily use. I also had my 1l Gelert water bottle which I kept clean and used to collect fresh water in (and carry spare water for cooking).

I also went into the Blacks at Inverness and found the staff there were as useless as they are at the Blacks in Salisbury. This is the conversation I had with a member of staff:

Me: “Do you have any meths” (Blank Look) "It is a kind of fuel"

Staff member: “Oh. Look we have fuel” (showing me an empty bottle labelled

’Fuel ’ that I have already looked at    

Me: “It is empty, look” (I shake the bottle to show her)

Staff Member: “Oh. I’ll ask the manager then”

What is it with Blacks?!! I have vowed never to return to another Blacks store.

After breakfast at 08.42 I got the train from Inverness to Inverchin and arrived at Inverchin in the middle of a misty afternoon at 12.00 noon. I had to request the train to stop and I was the only person to get off at Inverchin. There was a really “Conan Doyle” feel about the place, but after about half an hour the sun burnt through the clouds, and by 1 p.m. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt.

My walk to Inverchin was uneventful. The navigation was easy and the weather was excellent. This was the first of many days when I saw no people (walking) but some pretty scenery.  I felt as if I was away from home and in Scotland. It was a real blessing that the weather was warm and sunny, and I felt very positive about overcoming the challenges ahead of me. Today's journey took me along small country lanes, so there were no problems with bogs, tics or stiles. My feet and body felt fit and healthy and I was quite excited about the walk ahead. The countryside was gentle and the road was tarmacced.




I am a sucker for old crofts and houses and loved this one.

The staff at the Achness Hotel were very friendly, and the meal I ate that night (chicken, cheese and bacon and chips) would have kept an army on the move for a week. But I comforted myself with the knowledge that I would be camping for the next few nights and would probably burn off the calories. I went to bed at 8.45 p.m. absolutely knackered! There were no rustlings or mutterings to keep me awake and no train to catch the next day. I was going by foot from now.

I have not included any route notes for this section as this is not an official part of the CWT.

“I took the road less travelled, and that has made all the difference”
<>  <>  <>  

Robert Frost The road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

<> 

10 April - Rosehall (Achness Hotel) to near Duchally Lodge

Day 3:      10 April 2011

Rosehall (Achness Hotel) to near Duchally Lodge (wild camping

(12 miles          7 hours walking)

I got up at 7.00 (after more than 10 hours’ blissful sleep!), packed, and then had a lovely breakfast at Achness Hotel. I was quite restrained and avoided the cooked breakfast. I had some grapefruit and prunes, a small bowl of porridge with honey, and some brown toast and marmite. This seemed like a good breakfast to march on and I knew I wouldn’t see any toast and marmite for a while….

I had breakfast in exalted company that day; “Sir Henry”, an assortment of armed forces veterans and two young veterinary surgeons were dining at an adjacent table, wearing very expensive fishing gear. I felt completely out-of-place in my ‘rohans’ and ‘crocs’. Their conversation, which concerned employing Somalis to do students’ dhobi (“They’ll be glad of something to do”) was extremely un-politically correct and I enjoyed it hugely.

The weather was great, sunny, calm and clear. I felt I had the beginnings of a mouth ulcer, and after some embarrassingly blatant hints, the manager of the hotel very kindly gave me a tube of bonjela. The hypochondriac in me was strong that morning.

I followed the beautiful river Cassley north for a while, and saw my first (and only) otter on a rock in the middle of the river, fishing for salmon perhaps. There were lots of unidentifiable birds, high up and flying in formation, heading NW along Glen Cassley. I saw many lizards, hundreds of red deer, and no other humans whatsoever for most of the day.

Looking towards Ben More Assynt from the south with a Highland cow

I was planning to camp near Duchally lodge, but on approaching I was surprised to see a naked man standing pinkly in the doorway, completely oblivious to my presence and enjoying the fabulous weather. I altered my plans and crossed the Cassley River via a convenient bridge.

Then I had to find a sensible place to camp, away from naturists. This was surprisingly difficult (not, unfortunately, due to an abundance of naturists) as the ground was soaked from previous rains. In many places the path was a fast-flowing stream, and the ground was extremely boggy.

However, I soon found a lovely spot to 'plot up' near a stream, just past some woodland. It was just before the beginnings of the climb towards Ben More Assynt. As I was feeling rather hot and grubby I had a wash in a stream. The fact of seeing no people all day was very liberating, and over the coming days I got to depend upon nobody surprising my solitude in the wilderness (and became a bit of a naturist myself!).

I had a nutritious supper of soup and couscous, which I really enjoyed. I had seen Ben More Assynt and Conival getting larger and more ominous as the day approached, so had no illusions that the next day was going to be easy. But having experienced two days’ fabulous weather my spirits were high and I felt really positive about the climb. I had no phone reception but that was only temporary I realised.

My Vargo hexagonal stove was ace…really my favourite bit of kit!

I should mention that today was my first experience of tics in Scotland. I went through a patch of long grass and brushed off a small cloud of them onto my legs. That afternoon I had to remove about 7, the size of grains of dust, from my legs. The number of deer prints around convinced me they were deer tics and I increased my vigilance w.r.t. tics from this day onwards. Lyme disease no thanks!

11 April - Duchally Lodge to Inchnadamph via Ben More Assynt

Day 4:      11 April 2011

Duchally Lodge to Inchnadamph (and on to Lochinver via thumb)

(12 miles          8 hours walking)

Well I woke up to the sound of rain and that awful wet head you get when the tent is really damp on the inside (and too small). It had rained overnight and was raining when I de-camped in the morning. To make matters worse, I found that my Coleman single-skin tent did indeed not let condensation out so the inside of the tent was quite wet and my sleeping bag was damp. Not ideal. But thank goodness for Andrew's lightweight tarpaulin, which had protected everything from the worst of the rain.

I quickly de-camped, cooked up some porridge (which was gorgeous by the way) and started walking at 7.30 a.m. I had survived the night (my first one all alone in a tent ever I think!) and was quite proud of myself.

This photo shows the view looking back to the SE down Glen Cassley. My campsite was just to the right of the centre of the photo.

 The next few hours were purely up-hill. I went over a MASSIVE pipeline which I think had oil inside it. Certainly the pipe diameter was about 2 metres and it traversed the mountain-side like a motorway. An amazing feat of engineering to be sure.

The countryside was beautiful on an epic scale. The weather was wet and misty so photos will not do the scenery justice. This is a view of Ben More Assynt and Conival from the east side.

Shortly after crossing the pipeline my path petered out (where does that phrase come from by the way?) and I took a compass bearing to intercept the ridge path I hoped would exist and take me to the summit of Ben More Assynt.

After several hours of tramping uphill, just following my idea of what was ‘Up’ (and keeping just below the steepest snow-line on the ridge) I finally reached the summit of Ben More Assynt. On the way the weather did its best to deter me. I experienced rain, snow, hail, gales and low cloud which completely obscured my view of the summit. Occasionally the cloud shifted a bit so I got a slightly different view of the 100 meters above me, but generally speaking I went by map, compass and gut instinct.

At about 11.00 I reached the top of Ben More Assynt - wearing dad's hat and Andrew's buff (as well as my other clothes of course).

I was feeling rather smug because I had reached the summit despite snow, hail, gales, rain, 45 degree slope, bog, fog, ice, and a heavy pack. Yes I was rather proud of myself. I rang my husband to tell him of my achievement, and to confirm that I was alive after 24 hours’ without phone reception. It was at this point (I realised several days later) that I knew I was going to make it all the way to Fort William.

Pride comes before a fall; so I went the wrong way off Conival and had a nightmare finding my way back on track. I had one of those real nightmare moments when I realised what a cock-up I had made. I had ziz-zagged off Conival and mis-identified Dubh Loch Beag as Dubh Loch Mor. It was only as I came out of the cloud and saw clearly that the lake I was heading for had a small round island instead of a small oval island, that I realised I was about 1 mile off track. This might not seem like a long distance, but when the terrain is purely wet, bumpy, treacherous bog, and you are already exhausted, the extra distance back on track seemed heart-breaking. I had two choices; I could forget about Inchnadamph altogether and head straight south towards Oykel Bridge, or I could back-track and try to get to my intended goal of Inchnadamph. With a wet tent and sleeping bag, and the lure of a hot meal in the hotel at Inchnadamph, this was no choice at all. (The third choice, of just stopping and giving up, was no real choice either, although it did enter my mind for a fleeting moment). I back-tracked with a heavy pack and heavier heart.

I was absolutely knackered by the time I got to Inchnadamph - and to bang the last nail in the coffin everything was shut. The hotel was shut, the hostel was shut, there was no phone reception and even the phone box didn’t work.

I looked half-heartedly for a camp-site and there was a realistic bit of land which even had a picnic table; however it was bleak, squishy, and had driving rain blowing through it. The only bonus about Inchnadamph was there was a road passing through it WITH LOTS OF CARS. I decided (not liking sleeping in damp coffins) to hitch-hike ANYWHERE. Kylescu was my plan. However I was immediately picked up by Dutch Ed and his Northern-Irish girlfriend Maureen, who whisked me away to Lochinver to their B & B (“The Rose”). There I hung up and dried my damp clothes, tent, sleeping bag etc, fillling up two entire washing lines, and went to the local pub called “The Caberfeidh” where I had a lovely meal of smoked haddock and chips. The weather at Lochinver was stunningly clear, sunny and windy; perfect drying weather in fact. Ed had an airing cupboard where I dried out my soggy boots, and I had no blisters. I had amazing views of The Suilven from the B & B and I started to feel that things were looking up. I had survived a challenging and difficult day, and was reminded thatt flexibility was the key to coping when adverse circumstances arise. 

The view of 'The Suilven' from the window of 'The Rose' in Lochinver

This is my opinion of Inchnadamph according to my jourrnal entry for that night. I hoped never to go there again. (But this was only temporary!!!)

 

12 April - Inchnadamph to Oykel Bridge Hotel

Day 5:      12 April 2011

Inchnadamph to Oykel Bridge Hotel

(18 miles          8 hours walking)

So I woke up about 15 miles further NW than I had intended finding myself (on this trip) to a clear, windy day that promised sunshine and showers.

The view from my room at "The Rose" B & B in Lochinver - The Suilven obscured by low cloud

My immediate aim (after a lovely breakfast) was to hitch-hike back to Inchnadamph and continue my trip onwards to Oykel Bridge. The unpleasant aspect to this plan was that it involved revisiting – in an up close and personal way – the site of my previous discomfort and rubbish navigation of the previous afternoon. Nevertheless it had to be done and I was swiftly picked up by 2 walking chaps and taken back to Inchnadapmh. [The chaps slightly disconcerted me by mentioning that there were mice in the bothies. Thanks guys…]

I managed to negotiate the valley to Bealach Trallgil much more successfully than on the previous day, and then followed a compass bearing of approximately 120 º to the path that runs south along the west side of the River Oykel. My previous acquaintance with Dubh Loch Mor (of the oval-shaped island!) definitely helped!

From there it was just a question of following the Oykel River south through Benmore Forest (another forest with no trees) to Benmore Lodge on the shores of Loch Ailsh.

During this part of the journey there were many showers and throughout the course of the day I must have put on and taken my waterproofs off about 15 times. Near Loch Ailsh there was an immense hail storm with pellets the size of bullets raining down on me. I turned my back to the wind, put my hat on, and let my pack take the brunt of it!

The forestry section south of Glen Ailsh was fairly dull although the tracks were wide and the navigation was easy. In fact, the tracks were being made by huge forestry vehicles as I walked that day, and some of the tarmac was still soft. The only dilemma involved getting from the upper path to the lower path by the River Oykel, and I followed a clear-cut through the trees towards the southern end of the forest.

The ancient sheep enclosure

The path through the clear-cut was wet and hummocky, as the photo shows, but took me down to the river path via a beautiful ancient stone sheep enclosure. This was marked on my 1:25000 map as a circle with a line attached to it :



I arrived at the River Oykel path by a post marked ‘25’. This might give walkers who are going from the south to the north some indication of a good place to alter course from the river track to the forest path.

Shortly after I took this photo I forced myself to stop, ‘brew up’, soak my feet in a stream and air my socks. It was a lovely afternoon by the River Oykel and there were loads of birds including dippers around. I also thought I saw a kingfisher. The water was very brown so I boiled it properly (for a change) but when I got to Oykel Bridge hotel and had a bath, the tapwater was browner than the river water, so after that I wasn’t that worried about the colour.

On most days I have persuaded myself, much against my natural instinct which is to keep going, to stop and drink something, mainly to force myself to have a rest. Coffee and hot chocolate by a stream - what could be better! Simple pleasures really come into their own on a trip like this.




On arriving at Oykel Bridge Hotel I found the place completely deserted and the doors closed. There was no response to my knocking. I tried phoning the hotel but had no phone reception (again). As the sky turned black (again) I got desparate and ‘broke in’ through the drying room. I found two ladies dressed as old-fashioned maids (only they were real maids) in the kitchen, so all was well.

Key points about Oykel Bridge Hotel:

1. This is a very old-fashioned fishing hotel
2. I am in Room 13 again
3. There is no T.V. in any rooms (although I found a residents lounges with a T.V. and nobody else seemed to know it existed - so i claimed it for my own)
4. It is a very posh hotel. I had headed notepaper in my room and wouldn’t have been surprised to meet royalty here
5. There is no internet
6. There is barely any phone reception – I was shown the one place adjacent to the car park where you could get a phone signal
7. I washed my socks and made good use of their excellent drying room
8. There was hardly anyone else staying there
9. The food was fabulous

There were (actually) 4 men staying here, all dressed as Toad of Toad Hall with flat caps, ties (with mysterious mason-like insignias), camouflage fishing jackets, corduery lederhosen, woolly socks up to their knees, fishing spats, and a copy of the daily telegraph about their person. I had a strange conversation with one of them about issues affecting fishermen these days. He said there was a shortage of salmon due to over-fishing etc and you have to use single-hooks these days when fishing for salmon, instead of double or triple-hooks. He told me with some compassion that salmon were prone to stress and you have to “catch them gently” and “allow them to recover after you remove the hook before you expect them to swim away”!!!!! What a loony!! How can you catch a fish gently?! It has to be one of the most aggressive acts imaginable!

So that was my experience at the Oykel Bridge Hotel. It is a great place; sort of U2 (Telegraph Road) meets Hamish Macbeth (if you ken what I mean)

 

13 April - Oykel Bridge Hotel to Knockdamph Bothy

Day 6:      13 April 2011

Oykel Bridge Hotel to Knockdamph Bothy

(9    miles         5 hours walking)

I got up at about 6.30 and had a fabulous breakfast of porridge, kippers and toast, all in the company of Lords. I would recommend this hotel to anyone. (But not if you want phone, T.V. internet, facebook....)

Then I went to my private television lounge and watched an episode of Star Trek (Deep space 9) while the Eton boys read the Daily Telegraph. It was a very peaceful start to the day. Everyone else was going fishing and wearing knee-length pantaloons and socks, with ties with strange insignias a la mason. The whole place was very strange and I felt right out of place in my trekking garb.

I left Oykel Bridge Hotel in drizzle but the weather forecast said the weather would get better from tomorrow.

Once again I met no walkers all day and had no phone reception whatsoever.

I walked through the Einig Wood, a traditional Scots Pine Wood, for a few miles before coming into the open.

I was surprised to come across loads of potatoes which had been dumped on the track. Sadly I had left my peeler at home. Anyway a farmer told me later- the only person I saw all day - that they are for the deer.

While I was still pondering the potato mystery I arrived at the Schoolhouse Bothy. This is a really tidy little bothy and I stopped here to have a ‘cap-a-pasta’.

There are no fireplaces but it is described as "surprisingly warm" in the Bothy book.

 

 

 

I really enjoyed the message I read in the Bothy book. It could only have been written by Germans and I wondered if they were ‘taking the mick’. It wouldn't have surprised me to read "Don't mention the war" (in the style of Monty Python) somewhere in the book

Very close to the schoolhouse Bothy – which was a functioning school until the 1960’s (with a dormitory for the children who lived so far from home) – I met a ‘kind’ farmer who gave me some ‘seasoned’ wood to take with me to Knockdamph Bothy. I carried about 8 kg of wood for a further 4 miles to the Bothy, and only later realised the wood was quite green and completely useless. Thanks Mr Farmer. (But hey what a muppet I am not to know better...)

After another hour I came to a crossing described as a ‘Ford’ (on the map) near the junction of Rappach Water and Abhainn Poiblidh. The water here was so deep I was required to don my rubble sacks and string in order to cross a fairly quick-flowing stream. There was nobody around to take a photo unfortunately. But I thanked my husband whose idea it was to carry the sturdy rubble sacks. They were used on several occasions.

Then I staggered on to Knockdamph Bothy, with the logs getting heavier by the minute.

The night in Knockdamph Bothy was, for several reasons, the worst night on the trip.

It was very quiet and it felt colder inside than outside.

It really felt like the middle of nowhere, and I have never felt more solitary. It was quite an experience. I was out of phone reception and apart from the farmers I didn't see anyone for 36 hours.

I tried for ages to light a fire in one of the two downstairs rooms - I used hexamine blocks, meths, cotton wool, newspaper, twigs, dried peat, prayer, you name it. After 2 hours I had filled the room with smoke and it was so cold I could still see my breath. Not my idea of a good time, although it took my mind off the fact that it was a really remote place, there was no phone reception, and I was all on my own. As time went on it became more and more apparent that nobody else was going to turn up and relieve the loneliness, and I tried to read a book.
Supper was fish and dried pasta. Lovely. It cheered me up for about 5 minutes.There was an upstairs bedroom in the bothy with two ancient wooden beds and massive mattresses. It looked relatively comfortable but I couldn’t help wondering what other wildlife was inside the mattresses and the thought of sharing my sleep with spiders and other nameless beasties didn’t tempt me at all.

I had some fantasy that I would be able to heat up the downstairs room and make it ‘cosy’ but all it became was smoky, dark and cold.
The experience certainly made me realise that I don't really dislike company as much as I think I do.
I tried playing my tin whistle for a while - the acoustics were good and it sounded better than normal - and went to bed at about 9 p.m. not expecting to sleep at all.

I wrote a poem a few days later, inspired by my experience and thoughts at Knockdamph Bothy. It is another place, along with Inchnadamph, that I shall have to revisit in order to banish the ghosts from my memory

Surprisingly I slept well, and woke at 5 a.m. with a sense of relief that I had survived the night. I left before it was properly light. It still felt warmer outside than inside the bothy!

14 April - Knockdamph Bothy to Ullapool

Day 7: 14 April 2011

Knockdamph Bothy to Ullapool (B & B))

(12 miles          5.5 hours walking)

Surprisingly I slept well, and woke at 5 a.m. with a huge sense of relief that I had survived the night. I ate porridge, put in my Vision Express Daily Disposable contact lenses (ideal for camping), and left at 6.45 a.m. before it was properly light. It still felt warmer outside than inside the bothy! It was very quiet, misty and damp as I walked WSW along the valley with Loch an Damph to my left. I was happy to be on the move and away from the bothy. I felt as if I had survived a real personal challenge and learnt something important about myself.

(I'm still trying to figure out what it was...)

I took this photo using the timer on my camera, and attached my camera to one of my walking poles.

As I came downhill the track turned WNW and the countryside started to look more agricultural, with fences, gates, sheep and even outbuildings appearing. Still no people though.

I followed the Rhidorroch river west to Loch Achall where there was an amazing orange boathouse. I am still kicking myself that I didn’t photograph it, as the ornate carpentry and choice of colour was something I am unlikely ever to see again.

However I did photograph this fabulous old alder, whose warped and twisted nature reflected some of my thoughts of the previous night. I spent a lot of time on this day thinking about space, loneliness, freedom and choices. Even ocnophils and philobats – and only the psychodynamic counsellors among you will know what they are!

About 2 miles from Ullapool I saw my first human people – a nice couple doing a 4 mile loop from Ullapool - for about 30 hours, and it was really great to realise that I had not wandered into an empty land and lost humanity. 

I rather pathetically insisted that they take a photo of me – it made me feel more alive to know other people could see me. And if that isn’t daft I don’t know what is!

Shortly afterwards I began the descent into Ullapool and got my first glimpse of Loch Broom, the open ocean and Ullapool itself. It was lovely to see the sea.

Just after my first glimpse of so-called “civilisation” I was randomly and unexpectedly ‘herded’ by a doberman puppy called Lucy. I tried to tell her that I was not a sheep but she insisted on circling me excitedly and trying to ‘round me up’. It was a funny but rather pointless exercise (from my point of view anyway). Lucy seemed to enjoy it though, and her rather embarrassed owner told me that she hadn’t been out for a few days and was a bit over-excited.

I finally got mobile phone reception about 200 metres from the first house in Ullapool. I jest not. Talk about localised! I texted Andrew to tell him I was alive and sent a picture to my blog.I had been trying (and failing) to send a message every 20 minutes for the last few hours which was quite frustrating. Perhaps I will check out which network is best more carefully next time (I have O2).

On arriving in Ullapool my first port of call was to check out where the B & B was. I found the ‘Eilean Donan’ easily but it was only 12.15 and much too early to check in.

I looked around town a bit and found the tourist information office, where the lovelt staff allowed me to leave my rucksack for a few hours. So I bought some postcards, checked out the excellent outdoors shops in Ullapool and eventually decide to reward myself with a visit to the pub recommended by my step-mother Mary – “The Seaforth”.

So I went there and bought a pint of cider and some crisps. They were great. Shortly after I arrived a bus-load of tourists arrived and I had the comical and rather surreal experience of being surrounded by brummies who were all queuing for food at the bar. Most bizarre. And as for the accent! (I love it really)

I thoroughly enjoyed my drink and then went to ‘The Eilean Donan’ at about 3.30.

My B & B had T.V. in my room and my food parcel was there waiting for me. I had a day off tomorrow and no blisters. What could be better? What could possibly go wrong?

I had not a care in world.

This is a picture of my food parcel in Ullapool, sent to my blog via my mobile phone. So Royal Mail works. The anticlimax about receiving the parcel was that I knew exactly what it contained, and it was hard to get excited about the same dried food I had been eating for the past week!

Still – it was good to look at the next map and to think about the next stage in the journey with increasing confidence about the whole adventure.

So there I was in Ullapool on a sunny day.
So far, in 6 days' walking, I had spent 4 days without seeing a single other walker. Today, I saw 4 people (all within 2 miles of Ullapool) and on 10th April (the day of Ben More Assynt) I saw 4 people (again near the car park). This part of the world really is very remote.

I got online today and looked at my blog. It was lovely to see that my photos had actually been uploaded and to read comments from people; thanks to family, friends, Aaron and Sam for doing their sun dances and thinking of me.