My son ze murderer!

 Dear Marmite

I have just returned home and I am almost in one piece. My left heal has a blister the size of a saucer and I have lost my voice. My trip to Scotland with Sammi, Dylan and Lucky did not go without incident. In fact, I reckon I could dine out on the tales I could tell. Warning Marms... this is a long one!

Firstly, it was not me who even thought of Sammi as a murderer. On day 5 we reached Crianlarich Youth Hostel. This was our first night not under canvas and the place was full of rugged types with all the gear! Among them was a pleasant and not so rugged German guy- Dennis - his friends had left him there and continued on their way as he had hit a wall. I told him my tale. Sammi had promised me this holiday walking up the West Highland Way as a Christmas present and as it was also my birthday we chose this week. 

On cue, Sammi turned up. Dennis said to him, "Ach so you are ze murderer!". Unfortunately the police were at that time onto the case of someone who had gone missing  somewhere near the hostel so poor old Sam was thrown a little. Personally, considering my current condition, I reckon the description of my darling son isn't that far off. 

Love you, Sammi - really I do.

So where do I start? I met Sammi and Co at Glasgow Central and we set off for Milngavie - pronounced Mull Guy on a train. That was  an easy and very pleasant trip. There Sam bought doughnuts from Greggs and so we set off walking - everyone was chirpy. The sun was shining and all was good. 

Along the way, Dylan started to lag and moan. He is 10 years old and carrying a big rucksack. I thought it was going to be too much for him. We plodded slowly along a path in the middle of nowhere. THEN... at one of the rest points he threw up. Nothing can describe the quantity of stuff that erupted forth. Let's just say it was impressive and widespread. Not long after, Sammi threw up with equal vigour.

From then on there seemed to be a competition as to who could barff the most. We trundled on slowly putting one foot in front of the other between sick stops. I knew we weren't going to make it to our first stop by nightfall. We reserved a campsite that wouldn't take dogs and then couldn't get a taxi to come out to where we were. Our options were limited. So our first night of wild campimg happened in a patch of ground under a rookery. Not ideal but it really was a necessity.

Sammi had brought two tents but we only put one of them up the first night. Four of us shared a VERY small tent and two occuptants continued to be sick while Lucky snored. Outside the rooks shouted loudly at each other. One of them kept saying, "Mum" while another called out for "Gareth" all night. Sleep quality  on night one was non-existent. 

Next morning and not totally refreshed we set off for Drymen. We had breakfast in a lovely little cafe while Dylan slept across two dining chairs. Energy levels were low. We didn't eat the night before and both lads were still not quite 100%. Outside there was a driving wind and it was raining. We took up plan B - A bus to Balmaha and then a ferry to catch up on lost walking time. 

Plan B was only half good. The ferry timetable and the arrival of said ferries didn't match so we started the Loch Lomond stretch of the journey rather late in the afternoon. We found a real campsite - pitched two tents - one without a working zip! and survived a night in a squall. By this time everyone was feeling much improved and more bouncy. 

Onward and upward -  now one tent lighter, we carried on along the bonnie banks of Loch Lomond (I won't burst into song, promise), did bits of wild camping usually in really bad weather and met a really lovely lady, Mel -from Germany - who joined our merry little throng. Sammi carried my backpack and Dylan turned into Mr Dynamo. At one camp, I went for a refreshing swim in the Loch.

When we were resting at the top of a very steep bit, loads of people trudged along behind and overtook us. Everyone has a bit to say to complete strangers on the walk- they'll say where they are off too or how far they have come. There is a lot of camaraderie along the trail.  One man was struggling a bit so I gave him encouragement from my comfy rock seat. I told him he was looking good... he called me a liar! - bloody cheek. I personally thought he was doing well as by that time my sciatica was beginning to kick in. By the time we got to the pub, he was there and in much happier spirits. Again, people in pubs all talk to each other - wonderful. Meanwhile Lucky had turned into the trail tart. Everyone gave him a cuddle or a tickle. That could have been you, Marms!

We sheltered in a lovely little bothy with a couple from the Netherlands and Mel while the rain battered the land one afternoon. Sammi made coffee and we played Polish Poker and spoons! All was well with the world. The sun came out. Mel left and Dylan set off just after. I didn't want him out of my sight so I followed him. It wasn't long before I realised he wasn't ahead of me. Sam's phone was turned off. Dylan was missing and I was worried. Sammi and Lucky caught up with me. Sammi was convinced Dylan was ahead. 

We met a French man who said he hadn't seen a little boy. Sammi dumped his bag and ran back to the bothy post haste. Just as he got there, Dylan was on the phone to Sam's girlfriend. From St Andrews, she had pinpointed the the actual spot where the bothy was and the Dutch couple were still there to keep him comfortable. He hadn't set off on the trail. He had gone outside to play. He got back to the bothy to find us gone. Poor thing!

I think he showed real presence of mind to stay calm and contact someone who could help. He realised Sam's phone was off and he didn't panic. Pretty good for a young boy!

We were much slower than planned. By this time, I had got a blister as well. So to make up time and rest my weary leg we actually managed to get a ferry to Tarbet on the far shore. Then the bus refused to take dogs so Sammi stayed while Dylan and I headed off for Crianlarich on a bus with a grumpy driver. Just as the bus pulled out, I realised I had Sammi's wallet... argh. I thought I wouldn't see him again - ever. Not to worry - he got a train, didn't pay but had a fellow passenger lined up ready to pay for him anyway.  

We set off for Tyndrum after a night in the hostel - me in flip flops - to protect the blister on my heel. The last campsite was lovely and to keep the joy of camping going, Mel joined us for our last night together in our tent playing cards! She set off for Fort William the next day and will be meeting Sammi and large gang of extras there about now as I write this.

With train strikes, I was worried that I wouldn't be getting back to Glasgow for my connection. Two trains from Drymen had already been cancelled that day. What relief I felt getting on the train and then the two hour plus trip went by in a twinkling because the three of us played cards.

So I spent my birthday quietly worrying about whether Scotsrail would get it together for me. Meanwhile, so many people from all over the place sent birthday wishes. I think that is the nicest thing about FB. Probably because of my algorithms, I don't any nasty stuff come onto my page. I never read further than the top three entries either. What is more, it helps me to stay in touch with you, Marms.

I spent a holiday with three of the loveliest souls around. Thanks guys... ready for my next adventure.. nearly.

Love and hugs

XXX