Day 68 - Rest Day in Dornoch

  I woke slowly, a sudden urge to pack and leave almost too much to resist. All the tennis was over so why wait? Then I remembered just how crabby I'd been yesterday and lay back down. Relaxing into a hike is something I seem quite incapable of. When I get back I'm going to do some walks where I have no destination, or very very small ones to try to force myself into a slower more calm style of hiking. I think its partly fear or failure: when I'm walking I feel competent and in control, but when I rest I feel suddenly unfit and over weight.

Dornoch Seaside

  After eating the reduced sandwiches I'd bought yesterday I lay around trying to work out what to do. There is supposed to be rain and I wanted to hang out on the beach for a while. That said I decided to head into town first to buy postcards which I could write up on the beach. Dornoch is a strange town,

Dornoch Cathedral

with signs at every corner which suggests a town considerably bigger in size. The 'Shops' and 'Tourist Attractions' is actually a small corner convenience store and a single historical museum with a large forsaken building site around it.  'Golf Course' might have deserved a sign, although I found the place horribly unfriendly when I popped my head in, 'Tennis Courts' were two run down council looking courts while 'Beaches' sign took you the long way round past council houses.

Dornoch Gold Course

  The church was lovely, as was the town itself, if small and limited in attractions. It was bustling with people. I wondering round the Dornoch Cathedral, smiling as I discovered a Tardis hidden behind the mass organ. The old prison turned market place was interesting but specialized with niche items which I could ill afford. Stopping in a cafe I bought myself an ice scream feeling parched by the unexpectedly warm day, dropping a few items into the post office on the way back which would no longer be needed. In the last few days I wanted to be as light as possible.

  All jobs done I wondered back to camp, dumping my things headed over the sand dunes to the beach.

Dornoch Seaside

  The coast is soft sand, with the sea flat and crystal blue falling into the distance. Not crowded like tourist sites I found a solitary patch and lay down in an attempt to even out my weathered and tanned legs. Five minutes later I was bored. How do people do this for hours? The wind also blew strong enough to pick up the sand and slowly covered me on one side making it impossible to write. My

ipod was soon covered and by the ten minute mark I stood up relieved to be back on my feet. Instead I spent an hour up to my ankles paddling in the sea, the waves crashing up to my ankles and feeling marvelous. I could feel my body rimming with energy and all my stiffness drain out of me. I must have walked nearly three miles today and the exercise was a good amount to warm up my muscles but not enough to tire me.

  In the afternoon I sat back and watched the women's tennis finals in the campsite's entertainment room while writing up several

pages of my blog. I was a long way behind now and struggled to motivate myself. Before retiring I completed some needed laundry and chatted on facebook with my brother in America before lying back to watch Buffy. Less than 80 miles left! I'm so excited for it to be over but, unlike yesterday, I am also excited about tomorrows walk. A lovely day off.

Day 67- Ardjachile to Dornoch 6 miles

  I woke up this morning feeling stiff, but more than that, fed up and hard done by. The fact that I was having a fantastic experience that few get to enjoy, seen some of the prettiest parts of the country, didn't matter. The world was obviously out to get me and I hated it back in kind. This actually means one simple thing: I really needed a day off as I'm turning more and more unreasonable. Unless you're Levinson Wood or other real explorers 280 miles without a day off it a tall order.

Dornoch Firth Bridge

    Today's walk only took two and a half hours. It was exactly what was needed, a quick jaunt across Dornoch Firth Bridge, followed by another side lane all the way to Dornoch. Again there is very little to describe. It was an easy stroll along a deserted track with the Firth to my right behind flat and bleak looking sand dunes and wooded moorland my left. One thing that did bring a smile to my face was the first sign for John o'Groats, only 88 miles to go!  

John o'Groats 85 miles!!!

  I tried Dornoch Caravan and Campsite first but been told it was £11 fee I left not too graciously. Within a few hours however I'd come to realize that it was in fact the only site within a few miles of the town. In the end, after spending even more money in a cafe, I sheepishly returned and payed for the next two nights. 
  My first impressions of the campsite were dismal, the man behind the counter looked high on weed and the cloudy sky made the whole place look dull and depressing. After I'd settled in a little, washed and relaxed I realized it was an unjust judgement. While it's expensive this does include showers, a tv room (to watch the tennis) and free internet which stretched across the entire campground. Moreover the camping area is quite sheltered with the beach barely two hundred meters behind. Even the people behind the counter became friendlier as I got to know them. It seemed, to me, a very well run family campsite.  

Dornoch Caravan and Camping Site

 Once I requested to watch the tennis a man came to mend the TV. I still caught the start of the match and was quite happy to sit alone in the room. The expense of the campsite is more than mediated by been able to sit for three sets without having to buy a drink- like I would have had to in a pud. When Federer thrashed Murray I actually felt relieved rather than disappointed: I'd watching the final between Federer and Djokovic if I could but it was no longer imperative and I could enjoy the next few days. If I passed a pub at the right time I'd drop in, otherwise I'd simply carry on and look at the score after. Murray would win next year.
  The rest of the day was spent lounging around and eating, I'd popped into town to buy some food but didn't look round at all as I'd have the whole of the next day to do so. Early to bed I revelled in the idea that I could sleep in as long as I liked tomorrow. The campsite was silent and I fell asleep easily.

Day 66- Dingwall to Ardjachile 28 miles

Cromarty Firth

  I started out slowly, not leaving Dingwall till 9 o'clock. Even after I packed up I ended up talking to the campsite manager and a few other people before leaving. Through town I bought a bacon bun from the bakery before climbing up through an estate to join a lane above the A9. It's a deserted road with pretty views of Cromarty Firth. A seventy something lady passed me jogging and I watched her with admiration and a little sadness: my nan was younger than her when she died last year never having smoked or drunk and I feel so envious and bitter on her behalf as well as mine.

B9176

  At Evanton I found a church cafe and stopped to have an early lunch, beans on toast, and a glass of orange juice. I'd considered this as a possible spot to camp but it was still only half eleven and I felt much fresher and more relaxed than yesterday. There was no need to rush, quite the opposite in fact if I was wild camping, so I strolled on-wards and enjoyed the walk along a series of B roads, turning north through Balnacraig to cross the Dal Neich. Two cyclist past me at the bottom, their progress slowing as they struggled back up from the river back to the B9176 road. Both were carrying enough supplies to tell me that they were also heading for John o'Groats, I'd already seen half a dozen others today on ladened bikes. Quiet and easy going I made good progress, stopping only once to munch on some biscuits perched on my bag on the side of the road.   The further along the road the more pretty and rugged the landscape became around me. Happily listening to Deasert Island Disks I carried on past Strath Rory, ignoring where I'd planned to wild camp. I felt strong in a calm and absent minded way so it seemed a pity to waste it. About eight or so miles away there was a campsite, less that six miles from Dornoch it was a perfect rest stop. If I reached it tomorrow would be nothing but a stroll.

  Half way along the lane, just past Blackpark, I lost my footing in a pot hole and fell face down on the road. I knew quickly that I was unhurt, just grazed palms and leg. Rolling over I unclipped my bag rather than make any attempt to lift it up from the ground, I was also a little concerned with been sprawled across the road strapped into a 40 pound backpack. As quiet as the lane was it would only take a distracted driver speeding to get home. Once on my feet I checked on my leg and sucked my palm clean before pulling the backpack on. I was suddenly a lot more weary.

School glass house in Edderton

  A lady stopped to offer me a lift in the four wheel drive and after I politely refused I began to descend towards Edderton. A family with bikes strapped to the roof of their car had stopped near the town and were rummaging in the side ditch. The man informed me they were geocaching, something I'd only loosely heard of: people buried of hit objects or boxes around the countryside and provided both the GPS location and a clue so others can hunt them down. Its a clever way to get people into the countryside.
  Once at Edderton I turned east and walked the last 3 or so miles to the Dornoch Firth Bridge. The A836 was busy and rather unpleasant to walk, and I was pretty tired at this point. I'd only walked 28 miles once before and, even more urgently, I needed the toilet. Just before Maikle Ferry roundabout a side lane takes you to the entrance of the campsite. Its a horribly long campsite, the road

Parish of Kincardine, Croick & Edderton

on one side and train track on the other, the tent field five minutes walk from the toilet block. That said it was well maintained and clean enough. Once I'd had my rest stop, set up the tent and washed, I sat back and ate. My body was beginning to  stiffen, my knees in particular complaining loudly. It took me longer than ever to go to sleep, constantly trying to stretch out my aches in the sleeping bag with no affect. It wasn't the crippling pain after a hard work out at the gym, just a dull ache of weary joints which had walked over a 1000 miles in less than nine weeks. Not much
longer to go.

Day 65- Bunchrew to Dingwall 18 miles

Entering Inverness, Kessick Bridge in the distance

 Another tennis day- not that many to go and I'm relieved. I swear they drain me to the bone as I rush through the day trying to get to camp in time to watch the bloody boy play. Murray is due on court at mid afternoon against Pospisil (someone I know nothing about)and Wawrinka is playing Gasquet just after. I am aware that this is not why people read hiking blogs but as a summary of my day these are the key points I remember. The walk on the other hand was unmemorable. You follow the A862 from Bunchrew to Inverness along the River Ness. Its a narrow road not designed to be walked and at one point I chose to balance on the wall instead of the road. On one side there was a two meter drop to the shores of the river and on the other cars whizzing past a few feet below.

  Once through Inverness, which I only skirted, and across Kessick Bridge. I'd finally reached the A9 which would take me most of the rest of the way to John o'Groats. The bridge is an impressive structure from afar but walking across it wasn't very pleasant, the sides high, traffic loud and litter all over the place. After is road walking all the way to Bingwall. Most goes along the old highway, a very quiet side road now ignored my all but those who live alone it. It meant I could tune out and trudge along. My back was hurting today and the arch of my food seemed to be having trouble. It didn't help that I refused to allow myself a break, forcing a pace I'm not used to in order to reach Bingwall in time.
  At Tore I crossed the A9 to follow the A825 towards Conon Bridge and the River Conon. The last
stretch to Dingwall on the western side of the River Conon is only a few miles more, flat and paved. At Dingwall I found a pub which provided me with the tennis and ordered some food. I'd missed the start of the match but due to a rain delay I still had two sets to watch. Murray made relatively easy work of it but Wawrinka struggled which upset me as I needed him in the next round to beat on Djokovic a while. Wawrinka seems to have Djokovic's number and if he can tire him out before the final Murray might stand a chance. Unfortunately Wawrinka failed.
  Dingwall campsite was another Camping and Caravan Club site which meant a very reasonable fee and good standards through out. There were also a few signs of Land's End to John o'Groats cyclists, out routes finally meeting again for the first time. I watched one cyclist in reception sat with his chest thrown out with pride boasting of his journey so far, I wonder if that is how I appear at times, I do hope not. That said he cycled it which in my mind takes a lot more fitness, or at least a very different type of fitness and one I haven't got. He started under two weeks ago, it staggering how quicker it is and makes me appreciate just how long I have been going.

  The next few days would be an awkward affair and for no other reason than the fact that the men's semi finals was on Friday and I'd quit the walk rather than miss Murray playing Federer- probably an over exaggeration but only by a little. I also needed a day off badly, my last one had been in Peeble: after 13 days walking and 250 miles covered my body was complaining in earnest. Yet I couldn't have tomorrow off as well as Friday to watch the tennis. Tomorrow I'd carry on walking, cover as much distance as I could towards Dornoch so that the next day I'd only have a few miles to walk before camping. If I could reach Dornoch my lunchtime I'd have most of that day off as well as the whole of the next to potter around and do as little as possible.

Day 64- Drumnadrochit to Bunchrew 18.5 miles

Last night was the first time I encountered other hikers doing this trail. Four or so friends in camp, the lady I ate with and the two in the last section of yesterdays walk. Today there were a few sat on the side of the road but once I'd left town I was alone again. The path out of town goes along the main road for a while before rising into the An Leacann forest hills overlooking Loch Ness. The view stretching back was stunning.

Loch Ness

  The climb up is hard, but I'm yet to get to a hill and enjoy it which I think says more about my own fitness than the difficulty factor of the hill. Huffing and puffing I trudged on wards, pulling the rain covers over my bag as the drizzle began. Along this path there's a rather good outdoor center, raised by the locals to create a safe place for people to go and learn about the outdoors. I dropped in to use their toilets before heading across the Corryfoyness Ford to Creag Bhan. I was told to look out for a cafe about ten miles through today and sure enough I'd have had to be blind to miss it. There were dozens and dozens of signs everywhere with things like 'coffee?', 'beans on toast?', 'scrambled eggs?' and 'real coco?' making me hungrier by the moment. I wondered up the strange path to the door of the cafe, bark underfoot wet and rather slippy. Chickens were running wild and the actual house further along was fenced off, a horde of huskies running behind it barking. Not exactly how I pictured the organic cafe I was told about. Still a very friendly lady came walking towards me and explained they were doing some construction work at the moment but if I wished to have a drink I could sit on the terrace further down.

Abriachan Eco-Campsite and Cafe

  It was a very strange place, the lady had to walk nearly 150 meters between the house and the little shack like building I was sat in, first to take the order, then to bring the drink and twice after that. That's well over half a kilometer for one customer. The hot chocolate was a generous portion and good strength however. The lady warned me weary of the chickens as they were rather cheeky and spoiled. I'd never met a pampered chicken before so allowed it to approach, excited to pet it if allowed. In a flash it had jumped on the table and stolen my bloody biscuit! Outsmarted by a chicken...

Bunchrew Caravan Campsite, view looking at Beauly Firth River

  The rest of today was dull enough, more pine forests and snippets of lane walking. At one point I was walking along a road when I saw a herd of cows walking towards me. Unsure of what to do, the road narrow and with fences on either side, I climbed to sit against the fence and wait for them to pass. They had three handlers who coaxed them along, yelling for me to stay put while they past.

Bunchrew Caravan Campsite

  Before the end of the Great Glenn I turned directly north, dropping down off the ridge to the Bunchrew Caravan Campsite along Beauly Firth river, a few miles west of Inverness. 18 miles walked I happily set up camp, the site rather stunning and views set to match. With toilets and shower facilities in good condition and a small shop with computers at reception you couldn't ask for more. Rain, however, did dampen the evening. Just after I pitched it began to pour and continued all night. I ran to the burger van which had opened fifty or so meters away and ordered myself a chicken burger with chips. Eating in my tent I happily lay around ringing a few people, (yes I had signal!) and watched an episode of two of West Wing on my phone. The rain not stopping I gave up waiting and ran to the shower block to wash. Back in bed I wasted a little more time before going to sleep, the rain still heavy against the tent, but dry and warm I wasn't the least bothered. The Great Glen was done, an easy trek tomorrow before the final stretch to home. All would be on roads but the finish line was in sight and I couldn't wait to reach it. 

Day 63- Fort Augustus to Drumnadrochit 20 miles

Lane up from Invermoriston

  Another day which would have been enjoyed more if I wasn't so Tennis obsessed. Murray was due to start playing at 2ish which gave me six hours to walk the twenty or so miles to Drumnadrochit- unlikely. With that in mind I was gone by 8 sharp, filling up my water and waving goodbye to the bikers headed off to find breakfast. The co-op provided it and following the road out of Fort Augustus. I'm afraid I cheated a little from here and walked along the road for the next five or so miles to Invermoriston. This was probably a mistake as there was no pavement and far too sharp a corners. I have no excuses I was feeling lazy and wanted to listen to music and tune out. I'd discovered my scorn for Tom Jones was wrong, if I ignored his really popular numbers like 'Sex Bomb' then I couldn't get enough of it. Such a great voice! I need to stop judging things without just cause, it means I miss out on so much.

Wicker wheel with Ben Nevis in the far far distance...maybe

  The road took a while and I reached Invermoriston eager to go back to the trail no matter how savage the climb. I bought myself a banana milkshake from the post office and leaving the road put both earphones in set to blast Delilah at me. The path zigzags up Croit an Talleir, but even then its horribly steep. On the way up I was past by a dog walker with two big dogs at his heel, one a great dame and seeming to have as much difficulties as me with the gradient. He was huge and stunning but no walker, unlike the mongrel along with them who ran backwards and forwards with excitements.
  The higher route is freshly laid, the path not yet on the map, its sides sharp and the bridges still gleaming. Both routes have a climb but this ones is accompanied with views. The climb got to me and I changed my music to 'Touching the Void' and suddenly felt considerably less in pain as I listened to Joe Simpson struggle back down to camp. Even though the climb was tough the rewards were considerable, views of Loch Ness can be glimpsed bellow and as you approach Meall na Sroine you can look back all the way to Ben Nevis- well the guide book says so and there were definitely tall mountains in the distance. A big wicker wheel had been placed to look through and would have been stunning if it wasn't for (yet again) the logging which carved up the landscape around it.

Loch Ness

  The hard part of the day is now done and carrying on along the ridge, over a wonderful little troll bridge with posted poetry nearby, before pausing to enjoy the view and ate a load of crisps. At Grotaig you join a small lain and follow it all the way to Drumnadroichit. I met a pair walking the Great Glen Way and matching their brisk pace talked with the lady for the next hour. A fascinating woman, experienced hiker and wonderfully young in spirit. I desperately hope that I'm like that after my retirement, still able to wonder around the world and seek adventure. As they were been true to the trail they turned left before reaching the town, me been a lazy cheat I carried straight on down to camp.

Loch Ness above Ruskich Wood

Borlum Barn Campsite

  Borlum Barn Campsite is cheaper than most of the other campsites in Scotland, friendly and well equipped. As it's a ridding school there is also a wonderful stock of beautiful horses around the place. I only had one thing on my mind by this point, it already been 16:30, and I dumped my back still packed at camp before whizzing into town in search for a pud with live tennis. The Lochness Backpackers Hotel provided just this and there was still a set an a half left to watch of Murray's match! Djokovic due to be on court next! This made me very happy and wiggling my bum into a better position I lent back to enjoy it. Another hiker came in a joined me for the evening, a lady who'd given up on her Skye hike (too wet)  and decided to walk this one instead. We talked, Murray won and Djokivic went two sets down- a good evening. Djokovic would almost certainly come back tomorrow but the wearier that man is the better it is for Murray's prospects.  

Day 62- Gairlochy Lock to Fort Augustus 23.5 Miles

Clouds hung low above Loch Lochy just after leaving camp

  After yesterday's low I woke determined to set get today's stretch underway early and get some distance done no matter how hard I'm struggling. There is another wild campsite just a few miles before Fort Augustus which would be my aim today, 20 or so miles ahead. For the first section I'd be

Clouds clearing over the loch, view from Bunarkaig road

Road through Bunarkaig along Loch Lochy

skirting Loch Lochy, never on the actual shore but dipping up and down through the logging plantations stretching up it's banks. The track is mostly dirt till the end of the loch, there the water narrows near Laggan and path becomes more solid. Then you have the length Loch Oich to walk, this time along a flat and handsome bike track, then another stint along a canal like path all the way to camp. No navigation needed, its another day where I can tune out and let my feet do the work.
  Midges were rampant when I woke. I scrambled from my tent and quickly packed up, using the picnic bench to organize my things. As I packed the last of it two canoes were carried into the clearing. Four guys had been camping in hammocks in the woods. They were canoeing the entire Great Glen Way, wild camping along the way. I exchanged a few pleasantries before leaving them lowering their boats and things back into the water.
  From camp the path stays on the left of the loch, rising above a houses and along a road through Bunarkaig, and Clunes. Clunes Forest is a nice sheltered walk, the ground covered in moss creating quite intense shades of green. I passed more people along this stretch, two girls making coffee and drying their things, a couple of bikers as well as a runner and her friendly dog. No other long distance hikers.
  Laggan Locks seemed to have a campsite beside it, although its not on the map, and I eyed their toilet facilities. As I crossed over the the southern side of the loch I saw the canoeists from earlier today, they seemed surprised to see me again and I felt myself become a little more energized. I had someone to beat.

  Great Glen Water park was the first chance for a toilet break and bike to eat. I popped in and ordered food before going straight to the toilets. Its only a slip of a restaurant with paper napkins covering lousy tables but it did the trick. When I rejoined the Way it went along a very straight clean bike trail. Having a sinking bout I played a lot of Beatles and sung along happily enough. The weather was fine and I was making good progress.

View from the north coast of Loch Lochy

   Cullochy was a lovely section, once again squeezed between a river and the canal. Although I'd walked 20 miles I still felt relatively fresh. I spotter the canoeists one last time stretching their backs and legs looking pretty much done it. No surprise, I think I could row for about ten minutes in the gym before stopping.

On the top corner of Loch Oich

  Kyltra Lock was lovely, the buildings covered with handing baskets and Loch machinery enclosed in retro style shed. One thing it didn't have was toilets or any real sheltered spot I could squat. I stopped and considered it but when the rain lashed down chose to continue on the last 3 miles to Fort Augustus. The last hour wasn't at all bad just wet. When the rain finally came it poured it down. At Cumberland's Loch Ness Campsite I sat in a shelter for a while waiting for the rain to lessen, when it seemed to get even heavier I gave up and leaving my bag found a pub to dry off in. When the break in the cloud finally came I ran back to pitch. It only took me a few minutes and leaving it wondered into town in search of supplies. I hanged out in the campsite pub that night but wasn't very impressed with the place, stupidly expensive and not worth the trouble, some locals soon came in and proceeded to be so loud that I no longer felt comfortable. I talked to the bikers nearby but soon walked back to camp and washing pulled myself into the sleeping bag.

Cumberland's Loch Ness Campsite

     

  

Day 61- Glen Nevis to Gairlochy Lock 12.5 Miles

   Today was rubbish. Woke up feeling desolate and finished the day exhausted after 12 or so miles when I'd planned to walk 20. Yesterday was pretty much a rest day and while today's scenery wasn't the best I'd stridden through much worse without blinking an eye. A week's worth of companionship came, to put it simply, to bite me in the ass. Everyone got to go home and I was suddenly walking alone again starting yet another trail with more than two hundred miles left to walk. As I passed the transition  for the very first time I was tempted to buy a ticket and go home. Diverting my eyes I carried on. Urgh.

Trains from the station, wonderfully old fashioned and tempting

  I woke up to rain, which probably didn't help, and ferried my things to the toilet block shelter to pack them up. Practiced by now I did it all without thinking much, ducking into the toilets to retrieve my EasyAcc external battery which was once more fully charged. On the way out of camp, which was already bustling with people determined to walk to Ben Nevis, I stopped in the shop and bought a lemonade, as well as a bacon roll from the burger van outside. That was breakfast sorted.
  On the road into Fort Williams I spotted the man from yesterdays and stopped to wait for him, walking the last stretch of the trail together and going to explore Old Inverlochy Castle before he caught his train back down to Bath. It was quite a way to the Castle, through a  council estate and across a river. Its a pretty ruin, the grandeur still evident, the walls impressive masses. From there I bid him goodbye, mumbling something in-distinctive when he complimented my venture. Never know what to say, usually settling for something like "you've walked a week right? well the rest is repetition." I wondered whether I should have added him on Facebook o made some sort of signal of friendship but as he made none I left it alone. A three day long friendship has its virtues, plus he was buggering off home.

My companion at the Old Inverlochy Castle

Road after Neptune Stairway

  From the ruined castle I crossed over River Lochyand along a rather horrible A road to Neptune's Stairway, a series of lochs raising boats to the Caledonian Canals. The path for hte next few miles is nestled between the canal and the River Lochy running to my right. I say path but it was close to a single lain road in width, the ground flat and even but rather unpleasant under your feet: too hard to use hiking poles effectively. Even when it changed to stones it didn't make comfortable walking. The boats along the bangs were very different from the canal barges of England, these were closer to ships, mass in size. 

Caledonian Canal to the left and River Lochy to the right

Camp

  As my mood, as I might have already hinted at, was dour I struggled and stopped a few too many times. I passed a bunch of people sat waiting on the bench for a bridge to be put in place so that they could cross the canal, and stopping I talked for a while trying to steal some energy from their admiration with little success. No one else was visible all day except the people taking boating holidays and the soles that manned the waterways and opened the locks for them. 
  I was tired, bored and aware that while I was walking down this long straight path Murray was playing in the third round of Wimbledon. At the Gairlochy lock I gave up, dumped my bag and set up camp. Along the Great Glenn Way there are areas you're allowed to camp for free, and due to a very kind cleaner I also had access to the water ways toilet facilities including showers and wash basins. It was a lovely camp, and having arrived at 3 in the afternoon I had most of the day to enjoy it. I sat around and listened to the radio in the hope of catching snippets of the tennis news but soon fell asleep in my tent, waking at about 6. A couple of canoeists set up a sent a little further along the bank but otherwise I was left in piece. 

Gairlochy Lock Wild Camping Site, on the edge of Loch Lochy- the block across the water is the shower and toilets

Okay...not the worst scenery. Just takes perspective to realize just how stunning it is.

   Fed on a 'just add water' packet of tomato pasta and Parmesan I watched a few more episodes of Buffy before going to sleep. Angel (the vampire boyfriends- for those who've not watched Buffy) had just turned evil and was trying to kill her, I took comfort in the fact she was also fed up. Ten miles short on my target tomorrow promised to be equally disheartening. 

The view at 9:30 o'clock at night, the sin still bright