Day 58 Strichen to Inverallochy
I’m not sure which map is most important.
Is it today’s stroll?
Or perhaps it should be this one?
Regardless of all that twaddle we set out for Inverallochy this morning finding it very difficult to believe that it would be the last day of the current adventure.
It was so unbelievable that we left twice.
The main street in Strichen was quiet enough this morning for us to be able to stand in the middle of the road and take a load of photos.
We had a choice in how to leave Strichen. We could return to where we left the railway or we could rejoin some distance away. The latter choice might cut off some distance but it would certainly have meant that we would not stroll over the old viaduct. Obviously we chose the former. Who can resist a high viaduct? Not us.
Then once more on the railway we headed towards Mormond. We have been singing Fare ye weel ye Mormond Braes for most of today. Luckily for us and for others we have seen very few others so our tuneless warbling offended no one. Not even the White Horse I hope.
I know that these white foxgloves have probably escaped from someone’s garden but they did look spectacular.
Some work has been done on the path, thank Goodness. It was quite damp for a considerable distance and I suspect that it must hsve been a damp boggy nightmare before the clean up happened.
We sauntered onwards enjoying the views of Mormond, of the White Horse and of the stag etched onto Mormond’s flank. The stag needs some imagination to be honest. In order to celebrate this auspicious day we devoured our last two aniseed balls. Their fiery flavour boosted us onwards.
The railway eventually came to an end for us. We left its comforting presence at Lonmay and sat on a wall. Having sat on the wall we realised that we were tired and hungry. Cheese and oatcakes fixed the hungry bit. The wall sort of fixed the tired bit with the help of a small chirpy bird with a crest. The little blighter had no fear of us but had no interest in our oatcakes. Perhaps it preferred flies?
Now that we were nearly there Janet cut the threads holding our house keys safely in their hidden bag. Another symbolic event. An event nearly as powerful as devouring the last two aniseed balls
The weather forecast hinted atrongly of rain this morning, rain which never came. As Janet finished severing the threads on our door keys a mighty ahower hit us. We climbed into our kilts, hats and coats, covered our rucksacks, got wet in the process, only then did this capricious cloud move away never to show its face again.
As we put the familiar key into the familiar lock it felt just the same as it has done all the many times which we have done this simple act. Almost immediately the stroll atarted to slip away and become unreal.
A visit to our kindly neighbours, for a coffee and a chat, started to bring it all back as we chatted of this and that.
Tomorrow? No alarm. Sleep all day? Possibly.