We’re still on our way. The West Highland Way. One more day to go. There’s still throbbing in the feet whenever I take my boots off for the day, but these last days that were supposed to be harder aren’t as hard as portrayed online. We did “the Devil’s staircase” today, the steepest ascent of the Way that winds upward in a zigzag. Out of breath a few times, but the downhill afterwards was a breeze. Arrived at our micro lodge at MacDonalds (named after the Scottish clan presumably, not the restaurant). We made up for the shower we didn’t have yesterday, and the sighs of relief that came from benign under the hot water and soap must have made anyone outside think something else was going on. At the Tailrace Inn after, we had some pub grub, and appreciated the bartender’s honesty about the coffee “being shite”, and Terry went for a whisky instead.

We’ve had a bit of drama at home this week that I haven’t mentioned. My poor little Stumpy was attacked by one of the big neighborhood boys who are about three times her size and do not give her the time of day last week. She had a scratched nose, two wounds on either front leg and a gash under her paw, so she’s been wearing the cone of shame for a week in vet’s orders. She looks to be healing nicely so hopefully she’ll be able to go on with her normal life this weekend.