Day 15 - Arran

We didn't move today. In fact, I can hardly walk. The impatient run down Goat Fell really did a number on me. The high impact of running and jumping on hard rocks for hours has left me seized like a lumbering scarecrow. Fortunately, some excellent literature has got me through the last couple of days. I just finished 'Last Exit to Brooklyn' by Hubert Selby Jr. a book given to me by a good friend back in Toronto for my birthday. It's taken me six months to get around to reading it but it just blew my brains out. It would make a great film. I should look into that. I've always dreamed of adapting a book and getting it picked up on a fluke. Dreamer.
We've laid around and eaten the last of our food. I hope my legs are feeling better tomorrow. I was starting to wonder if I'd been bitten or infected by something but that didn't make sense as both legs are equally as tender.
The tranquility of our spot was shattered when a large Scottish family laboured down into the valley like a herd of bison, cranked up the radio and started yelling at their kids. Let them run around I say. If there is one place to let them run around it is here and god forbid they end up like you. Hudson showed concern as the kids threw rocks into the brook and I let him sit proudly on the bank guarding our part of the field. I'd enquired with the site owner about the two small tents adjacent to ours, they'd been left behind and were empty but were functioning nicely as spacers between me and this rowdy bunch. Surely we'd move tomorrow, I don't mind this pace though. It's beautiful and cheap. I feel pretty lucky we found this place.

I think back now to the few people who've broken the ice and talked to me and I must say that the caravaners have been most friendly. On more than one occasion have I stuck my sleepy head out to gauge the morning weather and been immediately greeted with the offer of tea. They're a slightly nosey crowd but I think that is mostly due to boredom and they are an entirely harmless, ever so slightly adventurous crowd. Many other campers are strange and seem to be lost, not to mention cheap and underprepared. I've seen a few groups or couples turn up and seemingly attempt to pitch before disappearing an hour or so later.
   
11pm.
A frog croaks as I drift off and my eyes jump back open, reminded of her alarm clock. The one on her phone. I used to reach over her and put it on snooze, then lay tracing the curve of her waist with my fingertips. She would open those beautiful puffy morning eyes just a crack to recognise me and she would roll over and I'd put my arm around her in the most precious embrace and hold her close hoping the universe would notice. Close enough that as I slowly ran my fingers through the short hair at the back of her neck, her breath would condense on my chest and our legs would entwine like lovers do and our toes would twitch at each other saying hello and I never wanted that moment to end as I pressed snooze over and over. Even if I could prove to her how much I loved her, I'm not sure I could convince her my love is worth that much. She thinks it's fleeting and bares no weight. After everything she is the biggest heartbreak of all. The only one I want.