The Victoria: Lunchtime Report
513 miles done and it is finally catching up with me. I woke up late this morning and just made it downstairs in time for the last breakfast.
I have a shoulder. I am not sure why, but it started aching a few days back and last night it was a pig so I dosed it up with some Voltarol and a few pints. It is now back down to being just achey.
I am going to look at how I am loading the pack; I think it must be lopsided. Can' t complain though - the feet are standing up to it (touch wood), the legs are strong and I am feeling perky again.
I spent all morning being Mr Toad in his washer-woman's disguise. My fingers are still all wrinkly from washing the tights, shirt, gilet and all the socks. The bathroom is like a Chinese Laundry.
I have sent home various bits of kit that are no longer required (the second first aid kit as I can now fit it all into one, with the drugs mountain slowly being eaten into). Home went the mini-tripod - used only once anyway, and lots of paperwork now all finished with.
The boots: Potential disaster. As I was scrubbing them in the handbasin, I noticed that the left boot has a tiny hole at the junction of the tongue and the toe, where the leather is really soft and thin, to make the fold comfortable. It is only tiny, but when scrubbing away I noticed that my hand that was inside the boot was getting wet.
So, I have bought some superglue to plug the gap. I can't have damp tootsies!
I have not been to Chester before - it is like a big version of Cambridge, but without the colleges but with a lot more of the 'tracky bottoms and trainers' brigade. Not a hint of a Welsh accent here and only a couple of miles from the border. To my uneducated ear (I often mistake Irish for Scots) they all sound like characters from 'Brookside.'
The characters from Brookside seemed to dress better.