London is big but Biggar is Biggar

So said my B&B host for last night, Neil at the Westport in Lanark. He should spend more time cleaning his guest house rather than passing on witty quips. It was loppy. Good breakfast though. 

Just 13 miles today, from Lanark to Biggar, chasing the River Clyde upstream. My right foot is blistered with a long walk yesterday and I need to plaster up the poorly bits at some stage. Later. It just makes me walk a bit funny that’s all, and plenty of people have permanent conditions that make them walk a bit funny so I should rejoice and be glad. Dry morning and a cool breeze. The road dropped down to the Clyde from Lanark, crossing this elegant 250 year old bridge.

Again it’s a road walk but the country is getting countryish and the hills are rising. This is Tinto Hill, a local focal-point for walkers.

I copped for some showers today. Luckily they fell when I was on a cycle route later on which was lined by trees so I stayed dry. Each step for the last five miles was painful. It’s road walking again that does it. Same spots on me foot that flared up on the last couple of days road walking in Spain in April. I’ll man-up, if it’s pc to say that still. 

These youngish bulls came down to see me when I started mooing. Luckily they observe the restriction of a fence that they could bring down with a decent stampede.

Again my track criss-crossed the Clyde, and looking downstream this looked like a posh place in the distance. White walls do it don’t they?

Getting Biggar and Biggar now and the hills are looking fine.

And the scent of the gorse wafting down from the south facing slopes is delightful. Brilliant.

In Biggar for 15.00 and a couple of drinks and haggis in a local. Feeling recuperated! I’m getting another early one. Maccabees might be on the agenda later on this afternoon. That’s my statement of in-tent. Boom boom. 

Night night for laters.