Today was another St Silas deathmarch. Or hillwalk, if you will. It was a couple of munros that tower over the hotel at Bridge of Orchy, an hour and a half north of Glasgow.

It was a beautiful day, but the whole ascent malarky was a bit hard-going, and I am realising that I am built for the flat – on the ridges and lower ground I was a powerhouse, but the climbing really took it out of me.

The weather – a cloudless sky, scorching sunshine, and a strong breeze at higher altitude – made for a great day, but I was dehydrated and exhausted at the end of it all. A swift visit to the pub at the bottom of the hill was therefore in order, and I don’t think a pint of lager has been as gratefully received since that famous one in Alexandria. It was truly worth waiting for.

I think I also somewhat impressed Rob in the pub by identifying the barmaid as New Zealandish, purely because she’d told the people in front of us at the bar that dinner would be served from “half pest sux”.

Photos from the hike can be seen here. Some of them are quite good.