As I was descending I had half expected to find Greg waiting for me by the loch shore; but when I got down I was the only person there. So I made my way round the end of the loch, looking for a suitable pitch, and eventually found a suitable little patch of ground with the most stunning views along the loch. So that was where I pitched my tent.
I arrived at my pitch at almost exactly 8 pm and, having pitched my tent, I changed out of my walking clothes, lit my stove, heated up a lamb hot pot for supper. As I sat eating it, I kept scanning the hillside, looking for signs of Greg descending to the loch. But I could see no sign of him. It looked as though he may have been benighted on the hill.
It had been a long, hard day and I was tired; so I turned in at 9.15 - almost exactly 12 hours after I had set out from the Dornie hotel. One day down, one Corbett ticked off. All going to plan.
I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, and I slept well that night.
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