From Crewe to Aviemore By Sleeper I guess my journey proper started at Crewe station, at 22.30 on a wet Thursday evening. Crewe is simply a delight at that time. The bar was closed. The cafés were closed. Even the waiting room on my side of the station was closed. It was a grim beginning to the excursion north. I had an hour and a half to wait with nothing much to do except pace up and down and read the copy of TGO magazine that I'd bought to read on the journey north. But you can't expect to get the sleeper to the Highlands without meeting other walkers and here was one, a big, strong fellow, in shorts, accompanied by a huge pack - probably with the capacity of 90 litres or so. I could see him weighing up my small, compact pack with a little interest and no doubt a little suspicion. John was a very keen Scottish walker and seemed to have explored every little bit of the Highlands. For this trip he was heading to Fort William to begin the long walk up to Cape Wrath, which he reckoned would take him thirteen days or so. The sleeper would take him to inverness from where he would catch a bus west, something that I'd never have considered for something like the Challenge. Before long the inevitable happened. John took hold of my pack. "I'll swap mine for yours!" John's voluminous pack did carry a reasonably lightweight kit but it also had to carry eight days of food. My own pack was carrying four days. The knees trembled at the thought of carrying double that. John's supplies also included one and a half litres of meths; I suspect he was a trangia use. He was not looking forward to carrying this much weight but as we talked about the route I could se that he had little real option. There were some places that he simply didn't want to visit again. And Scotland's villages have become empty of village stores - certainly true. Missing Shiel Bridge meant that he was also unlikely to come across a decent campsite for quite a while. We talked about the Challenge. I was able to confirm that the little shop in Strathcarron really didn't sell food provisions (least it didn't last year). And I felt really helpful - and a bit of an old Scottish hand - when I was able to assure him that the power station bridge over the high end of River Kingie was useable; this would save him most of a day's walking. He was keen to know my route and he obviously knew all of the paths and all the tops well. But he felt that the Challenge was a bit of a hard undertaking and he wasn't sure he' want to do it, strange I thought for somebody about to walk to Cape Wrath. And how do you get from Clova to Montrose without walking on too many roads? Eventually in came the sleeper and we said our good-byes. My berth was fine, tight as ever but I had the luxury of being the only occupant. For once I slept well. Years ago I was a regular user of the old Birmingham to Glasgow sleeper. I could never seem to sleep, especially as the train chugged through the Lakes and the Southern Uplands. I remember berth companions who wither snored like mad, drank like fish or both. And I remember waking one morning to find a guy in the corridors who'd seemingly been robbed by his berth companion who'd hot-legged it out of there while he'd been in the toilets. I was pleased to be alone.
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