The day started off rather splendidly with a full buffet breakfast in our very nice hotel.
In a surprising turn of fate, I failed to have a hangover, which was a very happy event.
We went downstairs and ate some slices of melon and a glass of orange juice, just to be on the dietary safe side. After that we had scrambled eggs, bacon, two sorts of sausages, hash browns, fried bread, haggis and mushrooms, washed down with two pots of strong black coffee.
I felt ace after that. Whatever else you might say about the Scots, they do breakfasts superlatively well. I have never had a rubbish breakfast in a Scottish hotel. When it comes to eating things that warm you up for the day, they are world leaders.
Once suitably warmed up we packed and assembled for coffee in the hotel lobby. Elspeth wondered about a swim, so we were obliged to discourage her, swimming is not the best way to follow the consumption of a bucketful of fried lard for breakfast.
In the end we just said our farewells and Mark and I went for a gentle amble along the banks of the Clyde, by way of helping the lard settle comfortably into place. It was sunny and crystal-bright, the way only Scotland ever is. The light changes somewhere around Carlisle, and Glasgow this morning was as fresh and sparkling as a bride’s first glass of Prosecco, and the wind was so cold it made my teeth hurt.
We didn’t hang about for very long, even despite the warming breakfast, because I haven’t got my being-mended boots back yet and my feet were freezing. After a while we set off on the long journey back down south.
We went for another look at the site of my non-existent castle. It is perfectly possible to see why it doesn’t exist any more as every house in the village seems to be built with second-hand castle stone. The only bit that still remains is an old drovers’ road leading right to it, which is perfect, and an ancient boundary dry-stone wall.
Mark’s father was an expert on dry stone walls and could tell you absolutely anything about them. He knew all about their age, construction and style, and could discourse for ages and in huge detail on the topic once you set him off, which if I am honest we tried hard not to do.
You will be astonished to hear that I never paid attention to a single word, and indeed ridiculed this passion shamefully and was secretly glad that he had failed to pass it on to Mark.
Of course now that it is too late I regret it very much. It would be very handy indeed to know all about historic stone walling. Oh, the valley of missed opportunities. How I have eaten my just desserts.
In short, we spent all of the day that had not been occupied by eating breakfast in travelling home. The journey was enlivened by the sight of an upside down lorry in a ditch and by some more detailed exploration of the road along which I think my poor imaginary foot-travellers will have to stagger in the snow.
We were almost home when the battery light came on.
For those who know nothing about cars, let me explain that this means that the alternator has stopped working.
I did not know this either, and Mark had to explain.
I have got a very lot of driving about to do tomorrow and we need both the cars to work.
I drove back to Kendal to get a bit from Autoparts, who were closing and had to leave it behind the skip. Mark went to the farm to start taking my taxi apart.
It was minus four outside.
I took the bit to him and went home and unpacked and organised the dogs.
As I write these words he has just staggered in.
I am going to leave you and make some sympathetic noises.
