Day 8 - Dalbeattie - Kirkcudbright

Last night the panic made way for a eureka moment and a really fun evening. After waiting at the bus stop for half an hour we saw another break in the rain. I'd gotten into the habit of using a google search on my phone to help us find a campsite, but since that was dead I reverted back to my old road atlas. I could see only one near us and it would mean us leaving our planned route to Castle Douglas and heading south five miles or so. It felt like a bit of a leap but we needed a proper campsite to dry out. The usual happened, I'd underestimated the distance and overestimated my energy levels. As we headed south the land opened up into a large flat bottomed valley to my right with large forested hills on my other side. I could tell that this was one of those glacial valleys that I had learned about in school. Coming into Dalbeattie I was worried, it looked small and purely residential, new housing. In the distance I could see a church spire which indicated a more built up area and I headed for it. Soon came signs for the 'town centre' and then the brown campsite signs I'd been hoping for. The route to the campsite seemd to take me on a tour of this tiny town. The houses were unusual, rows of terraces clad in grey granite. I'd noticed a stone quarry on the way down the valley and made the connection. I rolled in past a couple of pubs, parks, a small river rushing due to the rains. I loved this place.

 

I eventually pulled up at the site totally spent and I walked like a stiff zombie. Eleven pounds! That was the best yet, a new record. Too late now I thought and I rarely even bother to pass a sly commet at these moments, just cough up. Maybe I'd complain about it later, online, anonymously. That was the new way of our generation and actually, as cowardly as it is in nature, it's a more effective sort of justice. Eleven pounds was certainly too much for a piece of grass for the night. Everything else was extra. Anyway, we pitched and headed to a pub. Deuchars IPA on cask again and I ended up on first name basis with about 8 ofthe locals at The Pheasant Hotel including the propreitors. The best chat was had with Jock, an ex forrester who seemed ready to die but had a wit that was undeniable. He had some great stories and I had a couple that he didn't seem to mind sitting through. When two of the locals would talk I really wrestled to catch every word but generally just got the jist of what was said and nodded a lot. I was the only person under forty five in their other than Denise the bartender and an angry looking lesbian playing pool. We acknowledged each other with a smile and I thought that this was probably a hard town for her to live in.

This morning, rain again. A had a stroll around town and then returned to the site and packed up. I really liked this place for some reason, loads of character. It's getting late so I made lunch. Hudson has an uncanny ability to unwrap and thoroughly crush all food items. I make myself a fiery salad with lots of mustard and black pepper so i can throw away the pots they came in. I entertain myself with every mouthful by guessing whether it was too much mustard or too much pepper that just burned my mouth. It's still raining, we need to move. waterproofs on.

We left Dalbeattie and followed the sign for Castle Douglas. Instead of taking us back up North we went towards the hills. It was the large range I had seen yesterday at the other side of the valley, leading out to the sea. The heat in these waterproofs is uncomfortable and the constant swoosh of baggy arms and legs is distracting. The climb is a killer and takes about an hour and a half in the rain. As it starts to plateau it is the most beautiful landscape we've seen so far. Seems like every day is better than the previous. Endless hills disappearing into the haze of rainfall. We dismounted for a twenty minute walk in which hudson shat and I didn't pick it up. As the descent begins we pass through a tunnel made of trees and the road is dappled with sunlight. It's cleared up and the waterproofs are put away. the descent is just gorgeous and I'm awash with relief, it just goes on and on. I look back and I'm sure that Hudson is enjoying the speed. The anticipation of where we might arrive next is always there and this town reveals itself pleasingly, welcome to Kirkcudbright. Beautiful stone churches, colourfully painted houses, a castle, a harbour, fish and chips, ice cream and a bunch of smiling faces. I go left and take a zigzagging sweep of the town. To think that there are all these little places tucked away that I could love so much, the world gets better every day. I try to leave town over the River Dee but just don't want to. I turn back and collect some maps from tourist information, grab some fish and chips and back at the campsite I fall asleep early to the sound of bagpipes and rattling snare drums down the hill from me. It's a great view from here and again they've forgotten to collect their cash. I've set an alarm for 6am and may try sneak out again. It's dishonest but so is ten pounds for sleeping on your grass and shitting in a shed.