Weaver’s Bay

My Tardis informed WHW. It’s all written in the past. But it could be true!

Today is our longest hike. Nineteen dang miles. We’re looking forward to a bit of luxury at the end of it all though. A bunkhouse/hotel. Hot showers. Not that we stink. Oh no! But anyway, a nice respite from Tent Land, before our last two days of walking.

And here’s a thing. This constant walking feels like a bit of suffering by our standards. But have a listen to Weaver’s Bay, and imagine what it must have been like during the clearances here in Scotland. People forced to leave their very homes and leave for a completely uncertain future in another land.

I’m imagining that today. This little ramble is a relative walk in the park. Any one of those involuntary migrants would have swapped places with me, without hesitation.

I’m a lucky bugger.