Happy Feet

Forget dancing penguins - my feet are the happiest feet around. I have swapped the hiking boots in the Highlands for my slippers at home, and we have finished the West Highland Way. Since my last post, we finished the stretch from Bridge of Orchy to Fort William over two days, in more kinds of weather than I thought were possible. Our fifth stop was Kinlochleven, equating to a dreadfully steep descent into the town in Wednesday evening, and an equally awful ascent for our last morning. My greatest challenge, however, was one knee that had given up before I did. As a result, my walk developed a bit of a waddle and Dad resorted to calling me Pingu. That said, I wasn't the only silly-looking Mortimer on the way: Dad was sporting antique waterproof trousers from 1977, Mum was determined to wear a Legoland rain poncho whenever possible, and an exasperated James was like a walking Tiso advert at the front. Perhaps the most dysfunctional expedition team ever, but one that seem to have managed 97 miles and raise nearly £2000 in the process. Happy feet indeed.