the west highland way
Day 7 – Kinlochleven to Fort William
I’m on the train from Glasgow to Manchester now. All the people in a rush at Glasgow Station was a bit of a culture shock, nobody giving way to me despite the fact that I was carrying 2 heavy rucksacks. My world was invaded by buskers in the street, crying kids on the train and loud people getting ready for the big Friday night out.
The train down from Fort William was the most beautiful one I’ve ever done. The train was full of nostalgic walkers of the Way. I was sat with 2 Scottish lasses. We were all on our OS map apps working out exactly where we were in relation to where we’d been. Loch Lomond seemed even bigger from the train than it did while walking. It was hard to believe that we’d made it all that distance on foot!
Here are some shots out of the window.
We all piled off the train in Glasgow, and the adventurers dissolved into the commuters. I have more than a tear in my eye while typing this because it brings it home to me that this is the end of that road. I need to finish this before I get to Manchester because after that I’ll have left the zone…
Before I start on the last day of the walk, a quick addition to the end of day 6.
While I was walking back to the cabin in Kinlochleven, I managed to spot a black phone on a black footpath in the dark. It had a bankcard in the case. I called 101, and was told to drop it off at the police station in Fort William when I’d finished the walk. Feeling good about my moral fibre, I enjoyed my night cap. Halfway into my beer, the phone rang. I picked up and it turned out the owner was in the cabin next to me. We both stepped outside and had a laugh about the coincidence. I called 101 to close the loop on the case, and went to bed.
I got a good night’s sleep on a proper bed. I woke up to rain hammering on roof and wind howling in trees. I was tired, physically and mentally. I was also saddened that this was the last leg. To sum-up, morale was low, and I couldn’t drag myself from under the covers until 8 o’clock.
The trail started with a steep uphill climb for first few miles. It was hard going. I checked my phone after around half an hour and found that I’d only done a mile. 13 more to go. It was raining horizontally. Every now and then, the sun broke through the cloud, creating contrasty scenes of God-rays beaming through the dark skies.
Once out of the valley, the trail wound off for miles into the distance along the pass between the peaks. A guy came running back along the trail, asking if anyone had found his phone. I met him in the pub later, and it turns out it was in his other pocket!
With 9 miles to go, my feet and ankles were in pain. I stopped for a lunch of hobnobs and cereal bars. Caterpillar-man came over for a chat. Then, wandered off the trail saying, “nature calls…”.
It was a bleak 6-mile slog along the pass. I started entering work-mode for a while, thinking about what I’d need to do next week. “You’re not at work; don’t think about work”, I said to myself. “Take photos!”, and I did.
All this time that I’ve been spending alone has been liberating. In day to day life, we’re so influenced by external sources – friends, colleagues, family, the media. They all change our thoughts and behaviours. They say or do things, and we respond. Then, there’s the psychology of what we think everyone expects us to be, and what we want others to think of us. Out here (or ‘there’ – cos I’m not there now!) none of that matters. I’m just me.
We rounded a corner and Fort William came into sight, with Ben Nevis shrouded in cloud on the right. The town was deceiving close, and I started to get thirsty. My app said 3 miles to go. It was all downhill. I’m good at that!
They turned out to be the hardest 3 miles of the day. I said goodbye to the Scottish lads that I’d met for drinks for the last few nights. They were camping out of town.
Once down the hill, I reached the finish-line, or so I thought. It turned-out that I’d plotted my route to the original finish instead of the new one. I still had a mile to go.
I hobbled through town, along with everyone else. The locals must find this hilarious. I got my photo taken with the statue of the old geezer at the finish line (I need to find out who he is!)
I had celebratory pints with a couple of Swiss girls. Miraculously, I got my knee support back from the girl I’d lent it to a few days earlier. I realised my hotel was a mile out of town, but managed to hitch a lift with a local joiner. Bath, food, beer, bed. And that was that.
To be continued…! A different trail, a different time. Probably, in Scotland. The planning begins!
