The only water was in the Loch and it was a rough trek down on muddy tracks to get it. We made breakfast in the bothy where the Dutch were already up and ready. The rest were still asleep. Seeing that someone had draped their tent over a rail to dry Graeme thought it would be a good idea to do the same with us. Unfortunately the rail he used had six inches of rust on it and made a complete mess of the tent (just as well it came off later). Quite cold this morning and although we had no snow on the ground there was plenty of it up on the hills. This worried us a bit as we knew this was going to be the hardest day in any event as the track from here on was supposed to be difficult. All the others the previous day had taken the lower road and said it was not easy, a taster of what was to come. In the end it was as bad as they said, all up and down along narrow, slippy, muddy tracks with tree roots to clamber over and some very steep climbs to deal with. It was tortuous. When we got at length to Inversnaid there didn't even seem to be anywhere for a cup of tea. [We found out later we could have gone into the hotel] I was also surprised to see a road there. My recollection of Inversnaid, admittedly forty years old, was that it was accessible only by boat, but times had changed and it now has a road. Round about here we were passed by the Dutch and the two young guys, we having passed all of them ourselves earlier. Further up the route we had a choice of paths, one of them going to Rob Roy's cave. We took the other as it looked easier - it was, but it was still not easy. We saw the Dutch below, they had gone to the cave which they said was a waste of time as there was nothing to see. By now both of us were suffering from sore feet and Graeme seemed to be having a problem with his ankle, though he was managing. Stops were becoming more and more frequent for water and soup. Amazing how good even a cup-a-soup tastes when you are cold and tired. The weather hadn't been quite as bad as we feared but there were a few flurries of snow and as we got further north the snow on hills like Ben Vorlich seemed quite deep. Quicker than I expected we were at the end of the loch where the paths mercifully got progressively better as we moved down into a valley. At first I thought we had moved into a hidden valley away at last from the traffic, which we could hear all the way along Loch Lomond. All that had happened though was that the main road had gone into a dip and when it came back I realised we were just a few hundred yards from it. A good long easy walk down into the valley (which meant a good hard walk back out tomorrow) past some workers improving the path, and shortly we reached Benmore campsite at Inverarnan. We were knackered but discovered the Dutch had again overtaken us - I don't know how - and were putting their tent up. My feet were so hot and tired I went in my bare feet for a while to cool down. That took approximately one minute as the ground was unbelievably cold and icy and the boots went back on rather sharpish. Got the tent up between showers and went for a lovely hot shower. We had not expected to find anywhere with showers so this was a welcome surprise. Whilst drying myself I heard two women come in and start chatting. This put me into a cold sweat as I thought I must have gone into the women's room by mistake and I stood there not knowing what to do. I hoped they would go away but it was clear they were there for the duration, talking ten to the dozen. Eventually I decided to brazen it out and walked out with an innocent "Am I in the wrong place ?" remark. "Not at all" one of them says. "There is only one toilet block as the other is just being built. Do you think I would have been so calm seeing you if I hadn't known?" Great! Graeme then had a shower, well warned, to ease his aching bones. There was also a covered area here which this time we took advantage of, making our dinner of noodles and bolognese. I noticed that the girl had now arrived with another fellow and they seemed to have become quite close with the Dutch, sharing a meal with them. Talking to folk I began to realise that Inverarnan was the place with the pub with the inverted cart, where Graeme and I had stopped off on some previous occasion. I remembered in particular the kilted barmen and the stuffed animals. It was called something like the Drovers Inn. When studying the route before we left England I had somehow got it into my head that Benmore Farm was on the opposite side of the loch from Ardlui and was puzzled that it seemed to have an Ardlui address. Now I knew why. It's not across the loch at all. It's above the loch where the routes from both sides join, just north of Ardlui. Graeme told me he had again seen and spoken to the 'supporters' we had met at the garden centre in Balmaha. The older woman hadn't recognised him, which surprised as she had been so chatty the last time. Tomorrow they were going to join the walkers on the stretch to Crianlarich.
Just before we went off to the Drovers, about half a mile from the campsite, two girls arrived in a mess. Their tent had been ripped apart the previous night and they had now acquired a new one, one of them having rung her father who had arranged for one to be bought and delivered to them. The new one was giving them problems too and some people gave them help. Actually it wasn't clear if the men helping were with them or not but they were all trying. Not doing very well though and within a few minutes they had broken a pole. We pitied the girls, although one of them with a very loud voice tended to grate. Next thing we knew the queer guy from Drymen turned up to give them advice. He didn't help, just effed and blinded about how the others should do it. A really strange person. We left while they were still at it. Nice atmosphere in the pub with no help from the bar staff who were a bit morose. A great roaring fire though. It's known to be an eccentric pub and it is, with its stuffed animals but great fun. Graeme and I sat in the middle and had a good chat. The Dutch people asked us to join them but we preferred to be on our own. We were not being rude, we just wanted a quiet evening. The girl and other fellow together with the two lads had got together but I think they respected our privacy on the night. We also noticed that one of the Dutch lads was chatting up the girl and there looked to be the beginning of something. There were candles on all tables and on one somebody, bringing in beer, tipped the table causing the candle brilliantly to somersault into a half full glass of beer. They spent half the rest of the night trying to get it to do the same again. A nice evening and a walk back in the dark and cold to the campsite and to bed. If that had been it, it would have just been a fond memory but it got spoiled later on when the girls, who had at last got their tent up, came back from the pub themselves. If I had thought the loud mouthed one was bad early on she was awful now. She and her friend, plus the couple in another tent who appeared to be with them yelled and screamed for ages. They had no concern whatsoever for other people and any sympathy I had had for them earlier had vanished. People yelled at them to shut up but they couldn't care less. At last they went quiet but if I thought I was going to get some sleep I was sadly mistaken. It was cold. Colder than I have ever known on a campsite. It came from the ground and just seeped into you. I put on all my clothes, including two pairs of socks, two tee-shirts and trousers but it made no difference. My body itself did not at first feel that cold but I felt as if I was encased in a block of ice. At one point I started to shiver violently and felt as if I was going into spasms. Looking over at Graeme who was having no problem, he has a liner fleece, I noticed he had buried his head under the sleeping bag. I did the same and it had an immediate effect. I had not realised just how vulnerable your head is to cold and once covered I began to warm up. Not enough to be comfortable but enough to allow me to get some sleep.
