The End Is In Sight (just over there, beyond those mountains, yeah?)

So perhaps it's a little premature to be hallucinating light at the end of the tunnel, induced no doubt by mother-nature's very best work today, but there really does seem to be a renewed sense of energy in knowing that we are ploughing towards the finish line, and that a large chunk of wandering is behind us. I will concede that we do indeed have an entire country to cross, and that it is booby-trapped with all sorts of nonsense, including mountains, loch's, storms and (as I've managed to keep a straight face for Liam), giant bears. Don't anybody let on - there's a lot of fun to be had here...

Many, many things have happened since I last spoke to you all. It goes without saying that we have met yet more fantastically generous people - some of whom only ask for their guitar to be tuned in return for dinners and beds, and others who are simply happy to receive our smelly underwear (to be washed, obviously - nothing odd or untoward. Although, if that's your thing, the proceeds would of course go to charity...weirdo).

So from halfway we have progressed into Scotland, and were understandably excited about crossing Hadrian's Wall. Well, I don't want to spoil it for you, but it's a total non-event. I won't be surprised to open the door in the morning only to be sliced in half by an angry Centurion, or perhaps a slightly mentally-dispossessed member of the national trust - and I did see it when it was lit up on the TV, which was far more exciting. Can’t they keep the torches up all the time?

My Mum and Sister (aww) were kind enough to drive up and visit us in Hawick (pronounced as if you’ve just swallowed a toy soldier and are trying to choke it out), and walked the remaining few miles of the Newcastleton to Hawick road (a 22 miler). The scenery is noticeably changing now, along with the weather: both appear to becoming far more dramatic.

Finally, it wouldn't be a blog entry without mention of our four-legged foe. Our fear took an unexpected turn when we were calmly told by a hotel owner that a local bull had decided to take a hiatus from being in a field, and had eloped into the surrounding woods with a cow. Our alert level was raised from amber to red when, upon a passing mention of it to a kindly farmer on our travels, she confessed that it was hers. "Oh good!", I thought. "Perhaps it's nearby. That'll be terrifying."

Please keep the messages coming, it’s great to hear from you. Also, we’re planning (slowly) a party for the second, or possibly third, weekend in September. Raise hands those who’d come!

Alex x