Arran

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After the climb (and the last climb was a muddy and steep terror) the reward.
Loch Garbad.

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Me with hat hair.
And hot from climbing, climbing, climbing. And not falling over.

Quick word here about the biker.
It turned out he was really nice. Some sort of Scandinavian. Or Dutch. Well, not British anyway.
I glanced behind on the last hill to see how far I'd come and bugger me if it's not my nemesis carrying his bike up the track!
At that point I did stop thinking of myself completely and wonder if he was just as disappointed as me to find someone else in a reasonably remote location.

Anyway, by the time he got to the top, I had already disrobed to an extent, had taken my photos and was ready to descend. We exchanged a few sentences and I realised he was a proper human being and not an annoyance. He was in fact quite charming.

He buzzed past me on the way down saying "Unt here comes der eazy part!" I thought - yes for you it is, I still have to work out how not to roll down the hillside! I resisted asking for a backie though, the man had an iron sphincter to take the way back on two wheels.

[Sundae]

As I walked back down the hill (yes, it did feel like a mile on the way back - just not on the way there) it snowed. As I descended it became sleet and then drizzle. Waterproofs back on. Collected by Limey.

That eve we had marinated chicken with slightly undercooked roasted carrots, then went back to the Social Club.
Limey wanted to check how things had ended up the night before, and see how it was doing after the jubilee of the opening night. Gave me a chance to sit in the bar, which was packed stiff the night before.

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Pool room, and dog in a bar.
See, Bruce? I can do dogs too.

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Safes used as part of bar furniture. Steampunk/ Torchwood look.

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Something else safe - Mr & Mrs Limey.
I have to say it's not a great picture of Mr Limey.
He is more handsome than the photo shows. I've never thought Limey comes across as her best in photos either, but I changed my mind when I saw her wedding photos. Okay, she was sublimely happy, but the camera caught her beauty that day too.

[Griff]

Thanks so much for giving us a peek in. Look like good folk.

[Clodfobble]

Good to see you, Mr. Limey! You have a lovely wife.

[Sundae]

Thanks to all for comments.
I'm still going I'm afraid...

Thought I would show you my accommodation.
The Limeys have a wonderfully comfortable sofa bed. Far better than the one we have here, despite the fact Mum uses it damn near every night.

And cats, cats of course.
And me.

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BTW - none of my teeth are grey OR black.
It's a camera glitch I have been aware of for a while.

No, really.
You can ask the Dwellars who've met me. My teeth are not American-perfect. They are uneven and they are naturally a shade of yellow. But I was told years ago that the colour of my teeth suggested they were stronger than average. And to date I have had no fillings, no teeth extracted and no toothache ever.

But okay, they don't look good in some photos.

[Sundae]

So. Back to Arran.
My trip to Blackwaterfoot.
I went there with Limey the day I arrived, and she dropped me off this time as well.
Plan was to walk to King's Cave.

Blackwaterfoot in general.

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.

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More water.

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Gosh the walk to King's Cave was tough.
I thought I had everything nailed after the walking I'd done. NO.
The mud on Arran is sooooooooo slippy!
I'm used to good old Vale of Aylesbury heavy clay. It doubles your weight within ten steps, but you can't fall over in it. You're anchored by it.

Started following the signs for the Cave but after a while I admit I lost faith. There were no further signs, the going was tough and I had a bus to catch. Not making excuses. I fell over twice before I decided to call it a day. Once on the steep hill, once on the flat. First fall I lost my popcorn. Not a euphemism; I had a bag of healthy air-popped corn which the wind gleefully scattered for me.

Second I just slid sideways in the silt. And lay there for a few moments considering my position. Prone, as it turned out.

So I simply turned around and gave up. Something I regretted enormously. Until Limey made me feel better the next day. Exhaustive research ( map of Arran) proved I was going the right way. But it wasn't obvious at the time. And I made the bus with ten minutes to spare - meaning an extra five minutes walking there and back. I still wouldn't have reached the Caves.

Oh and I fell again, in the sheep shit, on my way back. Broke my watch. Broke my watch so bad it couldn't be fixed. Forget Australia people, Arran is just as bloody lethal.

[Sundae]

Blackwaterfoot on the way back.
And a welcoming fire at the Limeys'.

Limes was ever so good to me.
Well she was in all aspects, but particularly in respect of the fire.

I used to have an open fire, and let the male visitors to the house take care of it. Not because I am a weak and silly woman, but because I am a manipulative one. The deal was they could build and light the fire, but only if they cleaned it out thoroughly beforehand.

Then again, I cooked for them in return, so I guess it was all gender-role-playing after all.

Anyway, Limey understood my need for crackle-crackle-burn-burn and heaped on wood for my benefit alone. Now she and Mr Limey are snowed in I feel guilty at the profligate use of wood I urged her into.