We left Ballachulish at 6:16 this morning and to be honest, were not sad to see it go. For the princely sum of £186 we were provided with a Mira Vigour shower that did not live up to its name and no breakfast from our BnB. So we bought the world’s driest pain au chocolat from the local COOP, which was basically just pain and headed south again. The population of Ballachulish breaks down as follows:

Total population – ~600

Median age – well above UK average at ~48.

Number of immigrants left to run vital services such as fish and chips shop post COVID after they left to support elderly relatives but post Brexit when they couldn’t get a visa to return to the UK – 0

Number of students at Aberdeen or Edinburgh university back for the summer waiting tables or serving in the fish and chippy – 3 and they’re all in the Laroch restaurant and bar.

Number of boy racers seen – 3

Suffice it to say there’s a lack of reasonably priced battered and deep fried food in Ballachulish where there should be some.

Anyway, we were out early enough to see some proper Scottish wildlife before joining the route out to the West Highland Way.

The West Highland Way is a 96 mile long walk from just north of Glasgow to Fort William and people only seem to walk in this direction – south to north because (as a couple of young American guys said at our BnB) “that’s how it’s advertised”. The power of independent thought and critical thinking is safe and well in the next generation obviously.

So since we are going North to South, we saw numerous people coming towards us once we were on the West Highland Way, but total peace and quiet before that.

The only decision we have had to make today is do we want to walk against this traffic on the tiniest verge in the world….

Or walk safely on the track that runs down the side. Now, in these two images, it’s a no-brainer.

But wishing the track not to be a bog and it actually being a bog are two different things. In this next image you can see the remarkably clever combination of a swift death on the A82 and the slow death of Lyme disease or trench foot in the bog combined. The white patch in the middle of the image is actually the side panel of a van thrown onto the boggiest part to make a path through – two birds, one stone, genius.

So we survived to see some of the most magnificent scenery albeit with slightly damp feet. Again.

Occasionally the boggier bits were kind to us with stepping stones.

Sometimes less so.

No one has thought to build bridges over any of these areas. The weather however has been glorious, T-shirts all day.

Eventually we stepped off the bog and onto the West Highland Way proper, which goes up for a long way on a gravel path which feels like a foot massage for 5 minutes and torture for the next 5 hours.

Finally, we were in sight of our destination – Bridge of Orchy, which we could identify by virtue of the bridge. A whole place name dedicated to the excitement of avoiding the boggy bits. We did of course re-enact the words from Monty Python Holy Grail with a “none shall pass” in deep tones by Mark and a “what’s your favourite colour?” from me.

This killed the last few minutes to reach not only a marathon distance for today, but also the 60 mile inn, which notably has a public bar and a private hot tub. We are actively enjoying both.

Tonight we are eating at the nearby hotel, which no doubt will be overcharging us for the privilege but for now, relax……

Distance – a whole f***ing marathon in twice the time it takes to run it 42.2km.