Walking for Alzheimers - Stuart and Jasmin

IMPORTANT – BLOG CONTINUES AS LilRedTent

walkingbankers — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 10:38:10 +0000

This blog will not be updated any further, but will continue right throughout the End to End walk and beyond as www.lilredtent.wordpress.com.

We look forward to seeing you there!

Walking Bankers – where are we going?

walkingbankers — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 04:24:18 +0000

Our route is almost entirely (ie as much as possible) off-road, and takes in the WHW, Pennine Way, Offa’s Dyke Path and the South West Coast Path. Total of 1200 miles (2000km). Expect to take 90 days plus.

Our route passes through the following towns/hamlets/dots on the map: Keiss, Watten, Dirlot Castle, Glutt, Kinbrace, Loch Choire, The Crask Inn, Lairg, Achness Hotel, Oykel Bridge, Duag Bridge, Glen Douchary, Clachan (Inverlael), Loch an Nid, Kinlochewe, Craig, Bendronaig Lodge, Iron Lodge, Glen Affric, Loch Cluanie, Tomdoun, Gairlochy, Fort William, Kinlochleven, Kingshouse, Bridge of Orchy, InverarnanRowardennan, Drymen, Lennoxtown, Falkirk, Broxburn, West Linton, Peebles, Traquir, Melrose, Jedburgh, Bryness, Bellingham, Twice Brewed, Greenhead, Alston, Dufton, Langdon Beck, Baldersdale, Keld, Hawes, Horton in Ribblesdale, Malham, Cowling, Hebden Bridge, Marsden, Flouch, Moscar, Baslow, Youlgreave, Thorpe, Abbots Bromley, Penkridge, Shifnal, Much Wenlock, Craven Arms, Knighton, Kington, Hay- on-Wye, Pandy, Monmouth, Chepstow, Easton-in-Gordano (& Pill), Sandford, Blackford, Bridgewater, Bicknoller Post, Luxborough, Warren Farm (& Simonsbath), Challacombe, Barnstaple, Western Ho!, Clovelly, Hartland Quay (& Stoke), Bude, Boscastle, Port Isaac, Trevone, Newquay, Perranporth, Portreath, St Ives, Pendeen and Lands End (& Sennen).

Fog, Midges, Cleggs and Avon Skin So Soft

walkingbankers — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 16:47:11 +0000

Day 5. Glutt to Kinbrace
We woke to find our tent shrouded in a blanket of fog and thoroughly damp from a persistant misty rain. The midges were swarming in large numbers, which precipitated a hasty and frenetic dive to the bottom of my pack for the “Boots” insect repellant lotion. It was the first time we had to use it and, remarkably, it worked instantly (upon researching this trip, we had narrowed down the options for defeating these tiny but exceedingly annoying little mites to two products – the Boots lotion, and “Avon Skin So Soft”, which is, surprisingly, supposed to be very effective. We chose the former, however, because the latter smells like an old lady’s purse!). The fog never lifted all day, as we marched further southwards along the Glutt Water. Not long down the track we stumbled upon a very modern and well appointed bothy, complete with Weber BBQ and a gas heater. Had we known that it was there we would have walked the extra few kilometres the previous night, rather than undertake the near desperate search for a suitable pitch beside the Glutt in fading light and misty rain. We took advantage of it now by stopping for an early lunch and a cup of tea and, re-energized, we continued on by diverting south west along a small burn, following it as closely as possible as it snaked up through increasingly boggy ground towards Knockfin Heights. On several occasions we had to ford the burn, although we always managed to find ways across that did not involve fully submerged boots. We encountered any number of frogs and slugs (giant jet-black ones) along the way, and would occasionally step over a large patch of scrubby bush only to be startled by an equally startled grouse, which would spring out in a gallinaceous cacophany of flapping wings and a dog-like yap. These encounters led us to believe that grouse are both blind and deaf, which are not particularly helpful characteristics if you’re only 10 inches tall and live on the ground. The fog thickened as we ascended to Knockfin Heights, so the best we could do when it came to abondoning the guiding hand of the burn was to take a compass bearing towards the summit. It was, however, virtually impossible to maintain the correct bearing as the peat bog became a morass the nearer we came to the top. It’s certainly the eeriest and most other-worldly place to be if you ever find yourself navigating through a peat morass in thick fog. The navigable parts are barely so, being thin unstable and frustratingly rare bridges between the dominant features of the landscape – large, high sided craters of thick black collapsed peat that would swallow you to the waist if you fell in. In consequence, the task of following a compass bearing is virtually impossible as you cannot walk more than a few metres in a straight line, nor can you landmark your bearing in such a fog. It is a case of constantly fighting with the ground over possession of your boots, which quickly saps your legs of their strength. We were relieved to find a relatively dry and sandy riverbed in which to enjoy fleeting respite, but even here the fog was like a roof atop the 6ft high vertical banks, giving the sensation of being trapped in a tunnel. We could not rest for long as we needed to find our way off the mountain, and preferably the right way! The danger in these circumstances is in taking a slightly wrong exit and finding yourself descending into a completely different valley to the one you had intended. At times like this a map and compass will save your life by getting you off the summit before the really bad weather, or nightfall, descends. But with no way of visually triangulating your location on a map to begin with, a GPS unit is a godsend for finding the right way down. It is an indictment on our fledgeling navigational and GPS skills that we still managed to follow the wrong burn down the mountain, to find ouselves a few miles too far up our intended valley. The burn we followed was a difficult prospect in its own right, with steep grassy banks rising high above a shallow rocky riverbed. Navigating down again involved frequent crossings to avoid the impassably steep banks. At one point I lost my footing on a loose rock and ended up with one leg over the other and submerged to the knee, with my walking poles crossed at an impossible angle, whilst still firmly shackled to my wrists, and my face just inches from the water. I must have looked like some new species of overgrown water-borne insect. After eventually descending to the valley floor, we walked the extra few miles to Kinbrace along a flat and quiet road. We were almost completely spent by the time we located a suitable place to pitch the tent, by Bannock Burn, adjacent to the town. After pitching the tent, I ventured up into the town again in search of fresh water. In the days that followed we would come to learn that the water from the streams in this part of the world is perfectly drinkable, albeit mostly the colour of tea. In all but the most pristine of streams in very remote areas, we are purifying the water with chlorine tablets (which are surprisingly tasteless), but we have met plenty of old ramblers who carry no water at all, prefering just to dip their enamelware mugs into the nearest passing stream. On this day, however, after several unsuccessful attempts to wake the Kinbrace stationmaster from his soap-opera induced coma (luckily his job, which seemed to come with the added benefit of an ample stone cottage on the station platform, was likely only to interupt his slumber for the twice daily train consisting of just two carriages and stopping only upon request by actual or intending passengers), I was finally rescued by a very pleasant local lady who had observed my water-hunting from the comfort of her front room, which overlooked the station. She gave me four litres of fresh water, half a dozen tips for avoiding midges (including “dennae squish wan en yer fece far if wan daes a thoosund come tooo the funeral!”), and a short-cut for tomorrow’s journey to Loch Choire, which regretably required a car. All in all, a fabulous, inspiring and sometimes nerve jangling day!

Thurso – 2000k to go …

walkingbankers — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 16:43:05 +0000

A bacon and egg buttie and strong coffee kick started our day after a sound but short night’s sleep on the overnight train from London to Glasgow. Having perfectly timed our schedule we casually strolled back to Glasgow Central to pick up the 10:11am Inverness train. Before boarding we decided to slot a frantic cab ride to Queen St Station into the schedule, which worked out perfectly as our train was departing from there (serendipity!). A long and crowded train trip ensued, with an occosionally violent game of footsies with a wee auld Scottish lady. She spoke with a soft lilt, but kicked like mule. Jas slept through the whole ordeal, deliberately trying to avoid the scenery, so as not to spoil the walking to come. A quick change of train at Inverness and we were winging it to Thurso (me nursing bruised shins, Jas surveying the inside of her eyelids). She missed the sight of a large red deer buck, with its full crown of horns. Truly the monarch of the glen! Thurso itself is, frankly, a little dull and drab. What it lacks in excitement, though, it makes up with very friendly people and a deep fried haggis the size of a baby’s arm. Our treat tonight is a hotel room, maybe for the last time for at least 5 nights, as tomorrow we venture into the remotest parts of the Scottish Highlands.

The Adventure Begins!

walkingbankers — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 16:41:39 +0000

Finally, after months of planning, our big adventure has begun. We are currently whistling northwards on the Caledonian Sleeper. It’s nearly 1am, but still there is time enough to sip a tea in the bar, which is ostensibly upholstered from used 1970′s British Airways hostess uniforms (predominantly undergarments). Efficient service is provided by a former railway engineer now consigned to the galley in a navy waistcoat. Against the odds it’s all curiously charming, but it could just be that our spirits could not be lifted any higher. No more suits, no more ties, no more crowded buses to work, no more work…at least for the time being. Glasgow approaches in about six hours time, where we’ll find some breakfast before climbing on board the eight hour journey to Thurso, via Inverness.

About Jasmin

walkingbankers — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 13:37:45 +0000

Name: Jasmin Emmalene Laurance

Age: 32

Born: Perth, Western Australia.

Educated: Narrogin College, Narrogin, Western Australia, Class of 1994. Curtin University (Perth), Bachelor of Commerce.

In 1995 participated in Young Achievers Australia as members of Curtin University’s entry, which went on to win the tertiary level competition.

Financed her way through university by starting Wax Tadpole Designs, a small business that manufactured and wholesaled souvenirs, jewellery, wall art and outdoor furniture. The business flourished and by mid 1996 it was supplying over 100 retail outlets throughout Australia. At that point we both deferred our studies to concentrate on the business.

Unusual facts about Jasmin: Made an early start in business – was punished by her grade three teacher for making and selling sweet bags to fellow classmates.

Jas was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in her late teens – a condition which left her barely able to walk for a period of about a year and suffering from chronic pain until her mid twenties. For this reason, the challenge of walking the length of the UK, carrying all of her belongings is particularly special for her, and created the additional challenge of enduring more than her fair share of muscle spasms and soreness.

Jas also has Endometriosis, which adds even further to the challenge.

Jas has been asked if she is Kylie Minogue in nearly every place they’ve stopped!

About Stuart

walkingbankers — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 13:20:17 +0000

Name: Stuart James Laurance.

Age: 37

Born Perth, Western Australia.

Educated: Applecross Senior High School (Perth), Class of 1989. Curtin University (Perth), Bachelor of Commerce.

First full time employment at National Australia Bank 1989 to 1992.

Moved to London 1992, where was employed by C. Hoare & Co (Hoare’s Bank), the oldest privately owned bank in the world (est. 1672). Loved to look through the old ledgers which predated the founding of Australia. Did and still does play Cricket for Hoares Bank. Returned to Perth in 1995 to study.

June 1999: Stuart rejoins NAB in Perth.

August 2002: Stuart transfers to NAB Melbourne.

October 2004: Stuart seconded by NAB to Clydesdale Bank, London, to assist with major South East expansion.

Stuart is currently employed by Clydesdale Bank, who have kindly allowed him time off to do the End to End Walk

Some unusual facts about Stuart:

Stuart had shock rocker Alice Cooper as a house guest.

Stuart has carried Davy Jones’ and Micky Dolenz’ luggage.

Stuart had a pet camel for two weeks, and rode it to school on one occassion.

Stuart has hiked the Bibulmun Track in Western Australia.

At Last – Fort William

walkingbankers — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 13:03:17 +0000

We finally arrived in Fort William the day before yesterday in a heavy, thunderous downpour, after a quick 15km jaunt down the Caladonian Canal from Gairlochy. This last stage seemed to vindicate our decision to come down the west coast, up and down from valley to valley, rather than taking the flat and low-lying Great Glen Way from Inverness. It has been slow going, but we would never trade our rugged highland route for the relative flat and slow changing scenery of the canal.

It was a great moment for us two days ago to round the shoulder of Glas Bhienn to get our first sight of Ben Nevis towering above us, with its sheer North face still studded with ice. It really was a stirring sight, even compared to the many other monumental massifs that we’d passed to that point. We’re very tempted to take an extra day out to at least “bag” the greatest of all the Munro’s, but to me perfectly honest, our feet and legs are voting against it at this stage, so two days of R&R are the orders.

We’ve met a score of Munro Baggers on our travels – a very unique breed of people they are too – almost invariably they travel in pairs, with one member of each duo appearing to possess all of the maps, know how and mountaineering skills, and the other being a slightly less enthusiastic “I just follow him” type. They are always very pleasant people, albiet they do tend to resonate an air of unmarried friendlessness (aside from their obvious fellow bagger), with exception of one chap we met who had the foresight to include the right to bag Munros written into his marriage vows!). I’ve invented a new pastime of being a “Munro Bagger Nagger”, which involves making casual, off-the-cuff remarks such as “Is that a Munro, or just a Top?”, or “I prefer to bag Corbetts and Grahams myself…Munros are so passé”.

So we now find ourselves amongst the hordes of blue-rinsed highland pilgrims, most of whom think they are in the far north of Scotland (hah!), and who seem to lap up the very kitsch Victorian version of Scottish culture, with its wall to wall tartans, bagpipes, home spun yarn, haggis neeps & tatties, a veritable fiesta of thistle motifs and a reproduction of Landseer’s Monarch of the Glen on every otherwise vacant wall space. .

The West Highland Way awaits us tomorrow, and we plan to do it in 9 days, including a rest day at Inverarnan, at the head of Loch Lomond. Finally we’ll have some facilities available enroute, so we can scale down the size of our packs just a little – a relief as mine, on occassions, has felt like having a bar fridge strapped to my back.

Notes from Glen Affric – 350k from the start

walkingbankers — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 12:59:30 +0000

We’ve been out of the range of all mobile signals for quite sometime. We left the UK’s most remote youth hostel, in Glen Affric, this morning, and hiked just 10km up the valley to Loch Cluanie. More importantly, we have found the Cluanie Inn, and managed to take the last available room, which just happens to me their top suite, which includes a sauna and jacuzzi! We’ve really been walking through places that feel as remote and lonely as you can imagine, so some civilization is more than welcome. Actually, as I write this I have no signal, so by the time it is sent we’ll probably be in Fort William, still 3 days walking from here.

The last few days have been wonderful, but not helped by the full onslaught of the highland midges (the night before last we were trapped in our tent because they were so thick they looked like heavy rain!), and the damned cleggs (devil, thy name is clegg!), which have chased us from Kinlochewe to here, extracting our blood all the way. (Some may know them as horseflies). Never again will I wish to hear a Scotsman complaining about flies and mosquitos in Australia -I’ll take them any day over midges and cleggs.

Anyway, a few annoying insects cannot diminish the grandeur of this landscape. If I believed in supernatural beings, I’d say it’s God’s own country, but I’ll simply say it’s Mum’s own country, cos it is, and she’s real!

Today we climbed up from Loch na Leitreach to the Falls of Glomach (there was no one around to ask, but I assume that rhymes with stomach, which was delicious irony given that mine was grumbling all the way up!). The falls were spectacular, and are said to be the most spectacular in the UK, but to see them you have to climb and traverse a very hair-raising trail that involves half a dozen points where you have to scramble over slippery rocks with just inches between you and a painful death down a precipitous drop onto rocks below (thank goodness for the bracken fern, without which to cling onto we might not have made it).. This is life!

Anyway, 350km done, 1650km to go. 60km to Fort William, and a rest day (or two maybe). We’re looking forward to the relative ease and official waymarking of the West Highland Way, as these last few weeks have been quite arduous, navigating our way through virtually untouched wilderness, from one valley to the next. A great way to start, though, and we both now have muscles where before there were none (and there is no way my suits would fit me now without a sturdy rope belt).

Learnings from the Far North Scottish Moors

walkingbankers — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 12:46:09 +0000

7 days and 153km on we thought we’d share with you all the things that we’ve actually learned so far:

1: Only the map is flat.

2: North to South is not the same as Up to Down.

3: GPS can save your day.

4: A map & compass can save your life.

5: Never try to cross a mountain through a peat morass in a blanket fog, without the aforementioned items.

6: Anyone who claims that deer stalking is a challenging pastime has not hunted where we have walked. Not only have we seen at least 250 at close range, we nearly tripped over one sleeping in the undergrowth. It’s harder to catch a black cab in London than it is to stalk deer in Scotland!

7: Grouse are, as far as we can tell, deaf and blind. This is not a good characteristic to have if you live on the ground and are only 10 inches tall.

8: River water only looks like tea.

9: Sheep love to stare.

10: At least once in their life, everyone should experience being awakened by an actual cuckoo.