Day five. Deep breath. I’ve got this. I mean, I’ve got it now, a whole year later. But I was trying to keep it together at this point. Cousin Stu had already seen through my cunning plan of slipping away to catch a train.
Damn him! Damn him to hell and back!
Another deep breath.
Not too deep.
Cheese and sweat and all that!
I think, at this point, I’d also eaten all the Ibuprofen. So, to say I was struggling is a little mild. But, to be fair, as cousin Stu likes to say, apart from my feet looking and smelling like roadkill, I was feeling quite good. Losing weight – all that sweating! And, we even had a chance to dry our gear at a campsite.
I was also consuming one or two pints of cider each night.
I’ve never been a big drinker, but I stopped completely the day we arrived in Greenland as I could see what alcohol did to small, remote communities. But, on the other hand, the thought of cider at the end of the day got me through the day.
That and cousin Stu.
Patience of a saint, that man!
And then, the chance to give the shuttlers another blast of freeballin’ cheese ‘n’ sweat… Well, small pleasures and all that!
The views were nice, too!
Oh, and if you’re wondering what happened to the map, and why I’m not telling you about each place, the flora, the fauna, and really trying to sell the whole “hike the West Highland Way” idea.
Honestly, I was living day to day, as my feet rotted away with toenails turning black and… Yeah, at this point, I had a pretty good idea that my wonderful Scarpa hiking boots were NOT broken in!
To be fair, as cousin Stu often said, I hadn’t worn them for over twenty years!