8 May 2019
It's blinding bright. I still can't feel my feet. It's too early. I refuse to wake up.
Some time later, it's still too bright, and I still can't feel my feet, but I'd better fight myself awake. My feet have been AWOL since the windy and cold outdoor soup session yesterday evening. The wind's been coming off the loch, through the ventilation in my tent and straight onto my feet. At some point in the night, I tried to make them some insulation, but to little avail.
We only have fifty kilometres to cover today to Ullapool, but we'd like to get there for lunch. We hit the road around nine. There's some climbing to do for the first half. We top out in silly wind and icy precipitation. Just before the Braemore junction we score a bacon and hash brown roll, coffee and chocolate, shivering.
The remaining distance into Ullapool begins with a decent downhill, and then leads into a few benign ups and downs. I don't feel as good as I did yesterday, and I'm glad of the early stop.
We pitch tents on the campsite and head off to sample the delights of the metropolis, which include Tesco.