Still Smiths About

And just to prove it.

Would you like your horse shoeing? 

And there are still a few Owls about. But it took a Blade to create this one.


A long sleep. I got up at 10.00, not really wanting to get out of my sleeping bag. It had rained a lot in the night but it was clear when I vacated my pit that the worst was over. I’d met an old bloke in the toilet last night and we had a chat over the Dyson Airblade. He invited me round this morning for a coffee with him and his old lass. Smashing bloke. From Manchester but had gone to west Wales for two weeks’ work 50 years ago and never went back. He was a doctor. Pretty good one by the sounds of it. 

I went round to their caravan after I’d packed all my tent and stuff and they gave me a proper coffee and croissant. Turned out that he’d been a bit of an adventurer in his time and had been Chief Medical Officer on the Everest Marathon. He made sure each competitor didn’t get altitude sickness and dealt with those who did. He worked in Nepal four times and made films there sponsored by pharmaceutical companies. Eventually I told him that me and Jet were doing the Annapurna Circuit and told him of my concerns about my head, which had been answered. He confirmed it was ok and that drinking water was crucial. When you get higher the oxygen gets less and you breathe in more but exhale more carbon dioxide which strips your blood of acid. The alkali screws with your system and you need to drink water to pee it out. 

Karma, coincidence, whatever. It was a brilliant explanation and for an 80 year old medic he was a star. Rob – may the road rise with you. I had to tear myself away but needs must. Over to Chester today and a bus ride out of town to a campsite and back in the morning. Only 14 miles but by the time I’d left Rob and his missus it was not too far from noon. 

I got my head down and enthused by Rob’s advice I smashed it, stopping in Kelsall for fish finger sandwiches and then cracking on again. This decal on an old Land Rover summed up my  euphoria. 

It was road again but I managed to find an overgrown footpath that might shave half a mile off the total. Sadly at a cost to my legs, photographed as I write in an empty marquee in the middle of nowhere. 

Anyway less about me and more about you. How are you? Well? Good, good, good. So look after yourself. 

Bugger that. More about me now. I’m so interesting and clever and my dad says “Thank you Lord for giving me such a son, such a bum, such a son. Good boy. You’re such a …. lick spittle ….. lick spittle. Good boy, good boy, good boy”. 

Sorry. I’m back again. Cop this. The grazed leg was worth it.

And back on the road the heaviest cherry blossom in it’s prime.

Luscious and framed by a blue sky. 

I was beginning to smell by this time. For those who don’t ‘get’ trekking this might sound gross. I was sweating in the same clothes that I’ve worn for the last three days. I haven’t washed or showered. I’m staying in a posh hotel tomorrow night that I found ridiculously reduced to 27 quid. I’ll turn up with my rucksack and shorts stinking like a skunk and they’ll either call security or take my money and let me in. 

I got on the bus in Chester. Nobody sat next to me. Their olfactories are working ok. The views were nice but I didn’t get time to see Chester as the 17.01 was the last bus and I onlyjust made it. 

The campsite is on a massive complex called Chester Lakes. Year round top class carp fishing on 5 lakes, a caravan and tent site that could accommodate at least a thousand caravans, a restaurant, a cafe and a bar in a marquee. Who’s there? Nobody. This place is the size of Hyde Park in the Smoke. No bugger. And everything is shut. And I’m 2 miles from the nearest pub.

I pitched my tent and the people running the site drove round, opened the bar and let me buy crisps and cider for 10 minutes. Nowt else to eat here. They were here to stock up for the weekend then pushed off but have let me stay in the marquee and plug in my iPad. Least they could do for a hungry geriatric. 

I’m going to get the 9.17 in the morning to Chester. Get back where I finished, get a breakfast and walk four hours only to this hotel. Twenty seven quid! Way Hey!

Night night.