Up at the crack of dawn it was, not even the Lark was up yet.
The ‘dawn chorus’ was very disappointing (frog treading!…Pheeert!)– did the presence of two girlies in the group have an effect on this?
Breakfast consisted of Cheese on Toast, expertly prepared by ITN and Colin (I think, not sure, eyes weren’t fully open yet). No cereals or drinks…no milk!.
It was a glorious day outside and one just itching to be taken advantage of. The bus was loaded up and we headed out of the hostel (which was excellent by the way) along the A93 back towards Blairgowrie. The scenery along here was quite superb and I do recall travelling this road before on a motorbike. Looking at it from the inside of a bus gave it an entirely different outlook. Not as much fun for the driver, but at least I could savour the scenery a bit more.
Somehow or other we took a wrong turning in Blairgowrie but we soon found our way again with some expert navigation at the front of the bus.
Prior to arriving at the drop off point we pass by one of the sights of the day - the magnificent Meikleour Beech Hedge which is an incredible living wall of beech trees, 100ft high and about 1/3 mile long. The trees were planted in 1745 and are now officially recognised in the Guinness Book of Records as the highest hedge in the world. Didn’t know that did you?
Team Yomper were dropped off first and were aware of a possible problem in crossing the River Tay on the Kinclaven Rd. The ‘Road Closed’ signs were out prompting fears that the bridge may not be there anymore after the floods of last year. Team Yomper were requested to advise if the bridge was in so we could make alternative plans to the route. A possible ‘get out’ would be via the old railway track, which crossed the river further downstream – but this wasn’t required.
Team G started from where we finished the previous day and headed back towards Bridge of Isla. As we started the day a few miles behind schedule, our target of reaching Dalnacardoch by end of play Monday was extremely doubtful. For today’s mission we were planning on pulling a few miles back by clearing Dunkeld by the end of the day. This, too, was very doubtful because of an appointment in front of the TV in a suitable boozer in Dunkeld for the final games of the English Premier League; we all had a vested interest in the outcome of events in these games. The logistics of Colin picking us all up at different finishing points and getting to Dunkeld on time was another logistical nightmare. Team Gringo was, therefore, resigned to the fact that Dunkled would be the likely terminating point for today’s walk.
A slight ‘Yomper’ style detour was taken, as suggested by the Team Yomper themselves, at Woodside, when we left the road to follow the track bed of the old railway line that used to run between Stanley and Forfar. It was only about a mile or so but it made a nice change from walking on tarmac, but not enough of a short cut to make the world of difference to our target.
We leave the railway at the first bridge and return to the road for Bridge of Isla. A call from the Yompers confirmed the bridge was ok, it was only closed to road vehicles whilst repairs were being made.
Kinclaven came and went and wasn’t really worth taking as the sleepy hamlet looked so quiet – who were we to disturb their Sunday peace, besides, if the Yompers hadn’t done it we’re sure we weren’t going to.
We cross the main Perth to Inverness railway at the road crossing in Murthly before taking a breather by the Mace shop (Yes, Mace! Remember them?), where Private Mrs PB did her MFR bit. We listened intently as we drank cold Irn Bru and scoffed an Ice Cream.
The sun was blazing and I took the opportunity at this break to apply the sun cream, I’m sure as hell wasn’t going to get burnt and suffer like I did last year.
Leaving Murthly we take to side roads again, part of which follows right alongside the railway for approx a mile and a half. The GNER London service passed by with a resounding hoot from the driver – we gave him the ‘orn too.
The drone of the A9 could be heard in the distance and it wasn’t long before we passed under its bridge, crossed over the railway by another bridge and picked up cycle route 77 for the trudge towards Birnham and, eventually, Dunkeld.
Slight resistance was present as we walking past a wee burn when some frustrated wee tims tried vainly to put us off our pace by chanting, what sounded like, threatening anti ICT chants. These oicks were totally ignored, as we believed we were being mistaken for huns, a common situation in these parts I’m afraid.
Entry into Dunkeld was quiet as we passed over the Tay once more to end our day at the Royal Dunkeld Hotel on the western edge of the town. Our mission was then to secure the seats for the footy but, before doing so, had to make sure the darn boozer had Sky TV which is where The Royal let us down, so we headed back towards the Tay and the Atholl Arms Bar.
We took the seats with ease, placed the HM Flag in the corner, settled down with a pint, browsed the grub menu and awaited the arrival of the Yomper crew.
They eventually arrive looking bedraggled, hot, sunburnt and in much need of refreshments. Capt ITN was informed that the match being shown on TV was that of some amateur sides from Edinburgh and Glasgow but the ‘Survival Sunday’ games should be on afterwards when the channel can be changed.
For the rest of the afternoon we all became Baggies fans as they strived for Premiership survival. Although it was a bit nail biting the Baggies did survive to fight another day, which prompted scenes of celebration from just about all of the HM3ers.
Oh, during all this we actually managed to get some milk from the Co-oP across the road.
Our destination for the night was the Wester Caputh Hostel and this involved a joyous ride out of Dunkeld on the bus.
The hostel was excellent and this really is the way to go for cheap overnight accommodation. Good bunks, large dining and relaxation area, in fact, the only ‘down’ side (if it can be described as such!) was the lack of a signal for the various mobile phone networks. The best signal could be obtained by going outside and standing on the wall, all quite funny watching them all really.
After yet more excellent scran the table was cleared for the first and only instalment of the Really Nasty Horse Racing Game. There then ensued a few cans of ale before all the washing up was completed and we headed for our beds.
