I got lost.
I walked all the way down from the top of the cliffs to the sea, to find myself in a bay sealed with rocks / cliffs at both ends and so, cut off, had to ascend the steep path to the top to go and find the right route north and onwards to the Cape.
A lot of sweaty walking and not a yard of progress. Not always easy to know the best way to go in life.
Today has included the hardest elements yet, – hot sun, a steep escarpment to climb and an absent path.
Hacking through chest-high bracken and thistles, I fell more than once, but did eventually make it to the top. I’m now at Dunure, eating and resting and aiming to camp outside Ayr tonight.
Though the planned Sunday rest day really helped, the blisters still make walking painful. I feel for those whose daily lot is painful mobility.
I’m at the Heads of Ayr camping site and it is just gone 6pm and I’m just about to set up camp for the night. Contrary to the forecast it hasn’t rained today but has been hot/sunny and it’s now pleasant as evening is setting in.
Though my feet are sore, as the blisters are not healed, I’m uninjured despite my falls earlier in the day. An evening of setting up camp and cooking awaits. And doubtless a very sound sleep!
A campsite is quite unlike the wild camping in the hills of last week; families with children, folk playing footie by the pub. As I have nothing to sit on, (a rock usually serves) a bench from which to observe this world click on-to another day is a welcome source of rest and entertainment. On sore feet joining in the footie is quite beyond me at the moment.
A man in a sporty Merc, with semi-dark glasses and greying long hair down the back encouraged me as he passed, with a big thumbs up and a smile: One just knew he’d been where I am at some point in the past.