Eventually, having learned icy water shrivels yer bits lesson (one again), I filled up the primus kettley thing, warmed the water up a bit and attacked meself with a pack towl and some hotel shower gel. This worked a treat, as it happens, thanks for asking. I even managed another shower later on. I’ll have to be careful of me natural oils….
I crossed the Geldie and wandered up a bit of moorland to find the path to the Linn of Dee and then blasted Eastwards in the TGO migratorial drift towards the Braemar chips and beer establishments.
I met the Parsons once again and had a brief discussion with some old folks who told me that the night before the town of Ballater had received a bit of a pasting from an energetic thunderstorm. The water had been up to the old chap’s chest. Almost as high as the top of his trousers, in fact. I continued Eastwards – calling in at Mar Lodge which appeared to be occupied by surly people in tweeds with a marquee and deerburgers. Yes, it was the British Deer Society, dressed to kill deer despite the fact they were having a picnic.
The kitchen of Mar Lodge was occupied by multiple Challengers, swigging tea and scoffing biccies. I joined in with Gusto (he’s one of the Italian TGO-ers….)
Soon, I was in Braemar where I had some pints and some enormous fish and chips at the Hungry Highlander, and then up to the campsite where I recognised, off a walking forum, the diminutive figure of Fight Club Hiker walkingirl aka buzzingirly aka Gill Mott. And with her was Ukmase aka Paul Mason. We greeted each other like people who had only ever met on a walkingforum and I went and put up me tent and had a little whisky party with some TGO-ers I vaguely knew.
Later, I met up with the full complement of FCH-ers, now including Titaniumdude aka Patrick Burrows and Peter Crawford aka Peter Crawford. They seem to have been enjoying themselves and we had a bit of a boozy-do.
Bingowings played and Sloman and the Wiglet jived.
We all got rat-arsed.
Thats what you do in Braemar.
Today’s pictures have been generously provided by Andrew Walker, Mike and Marion Parsons and Shirley Worrall.
Thanks ever-so, peeps.
During the night, during a short bladder emergency I thought I recognised Kylie's distinctive snoring coming from another tent. Nah....
