I suppose it was my plan in the first place.
A walk across part of Scotland, taking in some of the hills I’d like to climb and one of the hotels I’d really like to visit.
It sounds lovely but wrenching oneself away from the white sheets and white paneled walls of ones room (steam room included) at Monacyle Mhor hotel is almost as big a feat of self will as climbing the subsequent two Munros. Add in the wine consumed, the gin sipped and the heat of the sun inviting a leisurely breakfast on the terrace, and you have a bitter internal conflict to contend with.
However, it was my idea and we did have a bottle of prosecco secreted in the rucksac, and so, off we went. Continue reading