As Regular Readers will know, Lord Elpus missed out on the Chally last year due to his fixation with going lightweight and having 'alf 'is innards removed by Robby the Robot ably assisted by the busty Lintilla and her equally well endowed twin sister, Allitnil.
Well - he's making up for it this year: Alarmed at the prospect of not getting a good night's kip at the start of the walk (he had seen various stravaigers and vagabonds mentioning that they had already booked their hotel rooms at our start point) he set about the internet in his quest for a bed.
Tenacity's the key - and our minor royal has the grip of the Ancient Mariner (I wondered if the Ancient Mariner carried tide tables on his walks too?). Not for him the cold, soggy, wet grass under the steamy flysheet for his first night's celebratory bash with carousing, boozing and illicit ciggies. Oh no. He wants a big plumptious mattress with Egyptian cotton bed linen and soft, deep-pile carpets squeezing between his tootsies. Not for him the flysheet spray sprinkling against his skin on the morning of the 'off'.
No - he will demand full body power showers with multi-directional jets and hi-fidelity music wafting through the bathroom ceiling speaker system as he shaves his jaw to a polished granite finish.
Yes - he's bagged a couple of rooms for us at the Lochailort Inn.
And - to top it all off in some considerable style - he has also booked the rooms in the Park Hotel for the night of the big celebratory dinner in Montrose at the finish.
Stylish ol' sod, is Lord Elpus. Ta, fella.