The sun kept shining through the Borders until the day over the Pentland Hills when rain threatened all day and the wind got up and the sky darkened, over the high, remote-feeling moors, but didn't break until we were into the small central belt towns at the end of the day. I was accompanied by a friend, who mostly survived, although I haven't asked recently how his ankle is ... (better do that..). It was good to be accompanied, and for the first 2 or 3 hours I found I was talking and talking. This introvert occasionally needs company. The first photo is a Victorian footpath sign at the top of the Cauldstane Slap. A slap is an old trading/droving/travelling route, and this one, through the Pentlands, is ancient ... sheep, shepherds, traders, religious fugitives, the persecuted, the rich, and thieves (its nickname is 'the Thieves Road'), preceded us. After we came down off the Pentlands, a last, pathless this time, rise over Corston Hill, and we could see Edinburgh, Arthur's Seat, the sea, the Forth Bridge, and all the wee towns and large industrial areas of the Central Belt towards Glasgow (second photo).
I'm now in Glasgow, having spent a couple of days of rest with a good, generous, hospitable friend, and other lovely people who live here or pass through. I've played a lot of football with the dogs, and played a lot of piano too.
It feels like another milestone has been passed, and tomorrow I head towards and onto the West Highland Way, and into the final wilderness. Only about 340 miles to go. I imagine the WHW will be busy and I am strangely pleased about that. The next 100 miles are familiar territory and I have looked forward to it all journey. For now, I am grateful to those who have shown me kindness and hospitality in this place.
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