As you probably gathered from my last post, I’ve got my camping gear again. This is because I met up with my parents near Penrith and spent two days staying at Hornby Hall, a very big mansion built around 1574, if my memory is right. It apparently has a ghost, although I didn’t experience any haunting. I did have a pretty strange dream though, if that counts.
Anyway, my parents brought with them all the things I mailed away about a month ago, so I have now been gloriously reunited with my (technically borrowed) prodigal backpack.
I set a pretty grueling pace in the days before meeting my parents, and ended up traveling about a hundred miles in five days. This was thanks in part to Alex’s (hencefoth to be known as Klonick, to minimize confusion) ability to take a bus, and my luggage, to our next destination.
That more or less brings us up to the present – I hiked past the Pennines, the Yorkshire Dales, and the Lake District, all of which were beautiful from a distance but didn’t look like anything I wanted to hike through with time being the issue that it is.
As I type this, I am sitting in a hotel north of Lockerbie, Scotland. A group of Scottish people sitting opposite me just concluded a conversation of which I understood not a word. The weather has been pretty miserable the past few days (although it didn’t rain today, for a change) and I feel like that, combined with the added weight of the backpack and camping gear is draining the life right out of me.
I don’t know the name of the hotel/restaurant I am sitting in at the moment, but I’m going to take a guess and assume it’s called The Worst Food In Scotland. It’s literally miles from anywhere and it’s not open for breakfast, so I couldn’t get any food here in the morning even if I wanted to. This means it’s Snickers for breakfast again tomorrow, and I’m not really sure how I feel about that.
Google Maps tells me I’m currently 65 miles from Glasgow, which means I’ll probably be arriving sometime on the night of the 24th. The jury is currently out on whether I’ll be taking a rest day there. Probably not. For now, though, it’s off to the tent to try and get some sleep in the now-perpetual twilight of the Scottish summer nights.
Walking from Land's End to John O'Groats 
I’m glad to see you’re taking the comments of your loyal readers to heart. Now that you’ve found the Worst Food in Scotland, I think it’s your duty to locate the Worst Toilet in Scotland.
Also, when are you going to be back to regale us with more tales of England? I need to know when I should fly back.