114.08 kms: Bridge of Orchy-Inveroran-Glencoe Mountain Resort

Are you tired of hearing me talk about walking? What if we have a little chat about metaphor instead. There was a lot of space for thinking today on an amazing, sunny twelve mile stroll through Rannoch Moor. I know I said no walk-talk, but can I just tell you it was extraordinarily beautiful and remote. Stunning. I was listening to Dolly Parton while taking in all the amazing scenery, and she was singing 'Love is like a Butterfly'. It made me think: I much prefer metaphor to simile. Sure she would have had to change the tune, but 'Love is a Butterfly' evokes a much stronger image. Instead of 'the multicolored moods of love are like it's satin wings', go 'the multicoloured (better with a 'u') moods of love are it's satin wings'. Not that I am trying to tell Dolly what to do—she is a master poet—it's just that I think I prefer the directness of the metaphor without all the mess of 'like' and 'as'.

Left: Between Bridge of Orchy and Inveroran Centre: Walking with Rannoch Moor in the background (hard to not stop and look back every thirteen steps!) Right: Stormy over the mountains

Walking the great wide moorish spaces between hill passes, my body was Clan, wool clad, marching to meet the leaders of my enemies in the valley of Glen Coe. My feet are military boots, ringing a march on the rock-lined roads. My heart is a starling, high on the wind with the world a curve below me. It was more pleasure than pain today. I don't know if it was the sunshine, the pathway, the eggs I had for breakfast. Maybe it doesn't matter. Whose over-thinking things? It's nicer to walk through the countryside and think about elements of grammar.

Top: 'You lookin' at me?' Centre: There is a magical light in the UK when there is cloud and sun together—it makes colour sing in a way that really can't be captured with a point-and-shoot camera Bottom: Hobbit Huts, Glencoe Mountain Resort

Good night to Glencoe, good night to you.

95.76kms: Tyndrum-Bridge of Orchy

The day greeted us with a steady falling rain. All the weather gear came out. And stayed out. It made the prospect of camping tonight one that we no longer wanted to entertain. In the tiny town of Tyndrum, with its award winning fish and chip shop, a Green Welly catering-for-everything establishment and the Tyndrum Inn, they also managed to squeeze in a Visit Scotland shop. We decided to put an end to worrying and book accommodation for the next three nights.

Left: Leaving Tyndrum in the rain Right: Highland cattle

For any of you who may not have read this blog before, worrying about accommodation is my biggest bug-bear. It comes about from the fact that although I have the rudimentary things necessary to camp out, and I persist in carrying them miles and miles on my back, I really, really, no, really, don't want to camp. My main camping accessory is a bivvy bag. Read: a body bag with a tent bottom, a goretex top, which closes with a drawstring, into which you shove the precious things—leaving all the rest outside under your waterproof bag cover, including boots which slugs can walk into for warmth—and then yourself, sleeping bag ensconced. You fashion a pillow from clothing and a beaver (if you have one, pseudo-beaver if not). And you pull the string tight so that only a small hole is left for air, and to allow more slug ingress—won't do to not wake up with slug bits in your hair. It will be cold, damp and no matter how carefully you selected a hidden treasure of an illegal camping spot, two things will happen: there will be rocks, lumps and thistles where it looked amazingly flat, and you will be caught by someone on the morning. This is usually because the night is so miserable that the only sleep you get is when the sun comes up and warms you above temperature frozen. I always sleep in!

Left: Someone's (no names) ridiculous, but luckily short lived attempt to get a bit of that snow Right: Home for the night—just don't convert from pounds and it sounds perfectly reasonable!

We celebrated booking accommodation (especially an expensive alternative to camping tonight) by having coffee and cake before doing any walking. Luckily it was an easy-ish sort of day, and mid afternoon had us in a warm hotel having gins and tonics. Too many. Is that a thing?

Good night to Bridge of Orchy, good night to you.

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