After much messing around, shopping, breakfasting, snoozing and so on, I packed up the tent and wandered off in the general direction of Callater. At Callater Lodge I was given a cup of tea, which was nice.
After this, I erected the akto and had a bit of a snooze in the warm sunshine and then , sans pack or anything much, I wandered off over the moors and up the nearest Corbett – one Creag nan Gabhar (My grandmother’s talkative cliff)
It was a lovely clear evening and I could clearly spot the lights of Stokholm from the top. I hung around a bit on the top, noting the erratic progress of an arctic hare doing a bit of late grazing, and then retraced back to Callater where celebrations were just beginning.
Another boozy night ensued. There was singing and Lancashire monologues. I was the music man and I came from down your way. When , after a substantial while, it started to become a bit maudlin, I crawled off to bed.
I failed to find the main entrance to my sleeping bag and eventually gave up and slept underneath it.
I awoke at 4:00 am in a pool of my own whisky (the bottle had leaked)
I strongly suspect that I’d had quite a good time.
Thanks for todays pictures go to Shirley (Peewiglet) Worrall. Bless 'er
