Sunday 12th August

After four days of walking and mountaineering, we decided to take things easier. So after our cooked breakfast we went off to the nearby leisure centre where we had the climbing wall to ourselves for about an hour. Peter showed plenty of agility and tried lots of different holds. Dad tried without success to photograph him falling off!

Then we went to the Nevis Centre to do some ten-pin bowling. We played three games and Peter beat dad 2-1, though dad got a double strike on his last go. After that we went into town (dodging some very heavy showers) to get some lunch. Soon after we had finished our meal, we found ourselves trapped in a tourist gift shop in a torrential downpour. Peter added to the general gloom of the shop staff by setting off all the musical chimes inside cheap tartan fridge magnets and key-rings. Then we dashed off to play pool which Peter won 5-1. After that we returned to our room, played cards as the rain poured down outside, made a break for it during a brighter spell to the local fish and chip shop, and saw a double rainbow on the way back. At 9 we watched a television programme about Ben Nevis, which also featured Rannoch and Glencoe, then we played a few more rounds of cards (Peter was now leading dad 200-185) before falling asleep.

Monday 13th August

Peter woke up 30 seconds before the alarm went off at 20 past 6, and soon we were making our way to the railway station for the early morning train to Glasgow. We sat at a table seat next to a family from Mallaig, and the six-year-old boy (with an IQ of about one million) persuaded us to teach him our cards game and let him play. The following three hours involved trying our hardest not to let him win and also not to let him cheat, both of which he did with a cheerful, excited enthusiasm. The pleasant parents bought us a drink and biscuits for keeping him (relatively) quiet throughout the journey, although we did get time to enjoy the moody wind-swept scenery and rivers in spate after a night of torrential rain. One break in the weather gave us a superb view of Schiehallion with sheets of sunlight and shafts of rain making the iconic mountain appear like a shining vision against surroundings of bleakest gloom.

Finally we arrived in Glasgow and whiled away the time before the departure of our London train, by eating and window-shopping. Then at last we were homeward bound, catching up on sports results and playing cards, dad enjoying an amazing (and uncharacteristic) run of 17 wins in 19 games, before Peter regained his form from Rugby Station onwards. In the end the score was Peter 209 wins, Dad 202 wins. We had both won 101 games during the week, so that the running score from 2006 remained exactly the same (well, apart from 101 being added to each total).

We changed at Milton Keynes and from there it was a simple journey home, the sun just going down in pinks and streaks of light behind the gentle Chiltern Hills. But by then, our adventure in the Highlands was over...