fter the previous day’s exploits, it was with a certain apprehension that we set off into the grey, cloudy morning. We had purchased food from a very friendly cafe owner in Dalry high st. and set off up the road having settled our bill at the guesthouse. We soon left the town behind and before long the countryside opened out to present us with excellent views of the rounded Galloway Hills. The terrain felt remote and empty and I was really enjoying the walking. As we crossed a deserted country lane at Stroanpatrick we came across a sheep stuck in a bog and decided to try and haul it out. As we pulled on the animal’s horns it began to panic and we were both surprised by the weight of it. Eventually we managed to get it out of the bog whereupon the now panicking sheep turned around and immediately plunged into a second bog and we had to repeat the process all over again before it was finally freed.

Later that day we climbed Manquhill Hill (pictured) and Benbrack Fell which, at just under 2,000ft,was the highest hill of the walk so far and we stopped on the top to take in the far-reaching views of the surrounding hills. We continued on and emerged from woods onto a forestry track near our intended stop for the night, the Polskeoch bothy when we were surprised by a lorry bumping down the track laden with logs. The driver stopped next to us and turned off his engine and we spent the next fifteen minutes or so chatting to the driver who appeared very interested in what we were doing as he asked quite a few questions about the route. As he said goodbye he informed us that he was off to Workington with his load and would not be back until the following day. The bothy was desperately basic. It was essentially a wooden hut by the forest track with no facilities whatever. There was a fireplace but it had been bricked up and there appeared to be the remains of an outside toilet in a small building attached to the side of the hut. At the back of the room was a small raised sleeping platform but the only other adornments were a table and a few chairs scattered around. It looked and felt like a small village hall after vandals had set to work on it. We had just decided that we would stay the night in this dilapidated shelter as the weather was turning to rain when the people from the three tents we had last seen at the farmhouse at the end of day two arrived. They then proceeded to take over the hut, erecting washing lines for damp clothing and pulling a bewildering array of cooking utensils and stoves out of their rucksacks including a number of large saucepans. They then proceeded to prepare and cook a vegetable curry with poppadoms followed by chocolate pudding, which they happily shared with us. What had promised to be a cold bleak night in this bare hut had turned into very warm, sociable evening thanks to these generous strangers.