Shattered after what on paper, grass and tarmac should have been a routine walk of around 13 miles. The hour lost by the move to BST had a much greater effect than anticipated due to, for no particular reason, a sleepless night.
There was no portent of what was to come in the opening four miles. After a publicity pic for potential use in the Pompey programme,
I set off and reached the promised land (OK, Scotland) in just over the hour.
I had a Costa in Gretna outlet shopping centre to celebrate and I felt thoroughly pleased with myself, also musing the purpose of the maverick of traffic cones. “Right, guys, you can go out in orange but I’m doing my own thing. What can they do? Sack me?”
It was a long afternoon to reach Annan, and a leaden legged body really needed an injection of milk and Belgian bun from Tesco to scoop together sufficient energy to complete the journey.
I was too tired to even notice my accommodation and wandered about 100 yards past before realising the error of my ways. The Queensbury Arms Hotel is a big place, the price average, but the room is fantastic. I had a deserved first ever jacuzzi and it won’t be my last. It might not even be my last today.
Total distance 627 miles, under 400 to go. Another shortish one tomorrow, up to Lockerbie.