So we've reached our 20th leg, and with it comes the prospect of finally completing Scotland and crossing back into England after a mere eight years!
To be fair, the ample time it's taken us to haul our carcasses around the Caledonian realm hasn't solely been a result of the terrain – challenging though it most undoubtedly has been – but also the small issue of my getting married and having had two children during the intervening period, which has restricted my ability to get away somewhat. And Steve's had a load of cheese stuff going on too.
But enough of the excuses already – having followed up our May trip a couple of years back with a highly successful and mileage-heavy August jaunt around Ardnamurchan and Mull, we were both keen to repeat the formula, preferably with similarly fine weather to that which we'd enjoyed back in 2013, and, with any luck, to round off this year's achievements with a milestone border crossing.
Things weren't looking too great when we arrived in Glasgow for the final time on a grey Wednesday morning – and I don't just mean our hangovers from the usual London jolly prior to catching the 11.50pm sleeper train up – but by the time we'd sat through the subsequent two-and-a-half hour train journey back southwards to our restart point at Stranraer, the skies did what they only ever seem to do for us when James and David aren't in tow, and promptly cleared to blue sky and sunshine. Now that's magic!
Our final approach was marred only slightly by Steve's realisation that his toothpaste had somehow lost its lid in his bar bag, and had coated all (and I do mean all) his surrounding belongings with a healthy and substantial dose of fluoride protection. To my credit, I at least was able to see the funny side.