Day 14
Thursday 19th May - Edzell to St Cyrus
But her knowledge of the previous proprietors of the hotel in Marykirk proved sadly outdated by a change of ownership; horrid details of this encounter are in Shirley's diary. Shortly before, in pouring rain, we had passed a huge sign pronouncing that we were "welcome to Aberdeenshire". But even my protests to staff that I had been born in Aberdeen and brought up in Portsoy, and they had made me ashamed to be local, cut no ice with this establishment - not even to the extent of allowing just one lady to use the loo. Yet they were, I think, sporting a Scottish Tourist Board badge: I shall be making enquiries in the appropriate quarter.
There were two silver linings to this cloud. One was, as described by Shirley, lunch-in-a-cowshed. The other was the inestimable Rosie, lady of the house in Whyte House, on the main street, who not only gladly allowed use of her loo, but enquired about the Challenge and declared she would enjoy providing hot drinks and snacks for Challengers in the appropriate week next year. When I have confirmed with her that she really means this, I shall post her details on the website. Those heading for St.Cyrus or thereby next year, take note!
At the end of the last lap, the weather finally had mercy, and in watery sunshine we stripped off (the ladies, I hasten to protest in case of slanderous lies in the air, to a more modest level than the gents) and had a complete but very brief dip in the North Sea, before climbing back up that long path (you are unkind, Roger) to the bus stop. The relieved faces can all be seen in Shirley's report. If anyone had told me then that I would be stripping willows, Highland Schottische-ing, eightsome-reeling and the like that night until the small hours, I'd have thought they were mad - but it's true, and I was mad instead. What a swell party that was (to misquote Cole Porter). (I didn't really try to sing, did I? I seem to remember our Irish friend set us off with Cockles and Mussels...) However did I make it to that morning bus to Perth?
After a parody song at the start - how about a bit of (almost) real poem for the Montrose dinner? (With apologies to William Wordsworth, naturally):
"I wandered, lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
Then in Montrose I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils"
...otherwise known as Challenge Compleaters - courtesy of Berghaus, suppliers of dazzling glorious golden T-shirts. It's a lovely gesture, but with one problem. It makes it even harder to find and identify all those now-nicely-cleaned-up new friends one made en route. I even failed, momentarily, to recognise Howard (but that was the wine, and the light shining into my eyes - honest, Howard). I certainly did not have a chance to satisfy my curiosity about details of his route from Newtonmore to Fraserburgh, and would still like to hear. I was seated next to Shirley, Barbara and the Boys from Balerno, but I caught only a glimpse of Paul before losing him in the sea of yellow, only waved to Max and Trine and Maggie, said a brief hello to Brian and Jim, and never saw Dave and Gavin, Mike and Owen, Francis (who I think finished earlier) or the others mentioned above. I have contact details for a few, including Tim and Kate, but not for many, and I'd love to hear from any of them. I also managed only a brief word with my fellow-Fifers from Dunfermline, who were presented with their 10th-crossing award - congratulations and I must try all the J.Robbs in the 'phone book one day.
And it was both pleasure and privilege (when announcing the arrival of Lemming No.275) at last to come face to face with Roger and Patricia and the redoubtable JD, and later with my highly-respected vetter, Peter Goddard, and our esteemed editor Cameron McNeish - none of whom I can ever thank sufficiently for the wonderful, life-changing experience that is the Challenge.
© Jean Turner 2005
