The track through the woods brings you to a substantial bridge across the Kingie at NN 090998, and this is the view from the bridge looking back up the river.Certainly uncrossable this far down - but who needs to do a river crossing when you've got a bridge?
Once over the bridge it was another six kilometres on the forest track to Poulary, and then a little over two kilometres by road to Tomdoun. I was there before 7, but not by all that much. I took off my waterproofs and left them outside in the porch with my pack, took my shoes and socks off and changed into my sandals, and wandered into the bar. There were a good number of Challengers there, a friendly welcome, and a roaring fire. I put my shoes down by the fender to dry - alongside all the other sodden footwear, and checked in. I arranged for the hotel to do some laundry for me, then I enjoyed a dram in the bar and a chat with Humphrey Weightman.
Eventually, dinner was served. I will not try to describe dinner at the Tomdoun. Either you have dined there, in which case it needs no description; or you have not, in which case the experience defies description. The food was good though - very good - and there was a great bunch of Challengers all anxious to share stories of their struggles through the wind and the rain, their river crossings and miserable camps. And With it all we drank - and we drank - and we drank.
And when I went to bed that night, oh how I slept!
No comments:
Post a Comment