Which way to Fochabers?

Fochabers and Find Out

Benj: ”How do you suppose that town’s pronounced?”

Seth: ”Well I don’t know, Benj.”

Benj: ”Let’s go with Fuck-a-Bears.”

Seth: ”… Alright.”

If you’re wondering why after 3 days of hiking, I’m only just now making a brief post, I could tell you it’s because of exhaustion. Hike 13+ miles a day. Eat, sleep, repeat. That would be true. It’s all-consuming.

It’s like that one section of road they use in every episode of The Walking Dead: non-stop déjà vu that I’ve been here before.

Or I could tell you it’s the alcohol. Yesterday we shared two flights of whisky before lunch. And there’s endless pints of beer. Stringing together a train of thought in the rare moment of downtime when I can reach for a device is truly aspirational. So there’s that. [I started this post while fully sober first thing this morning, but… it’s mid-afternoon now, and circumstances have shifted!]

It’s 11:30am somewhere. (Here.)

But the truth is, I downloaded the Apple Arcade title Wylde Flowers before my flight to London last week. I’ve been preoccupied with collecting eggs, milk, and honey, fishing, getting rich cooking and selling fish sticks, and flirting with the village’s hot doctor. IYKYK. Time spent undertaking these critical tasks means time not spent blogging.

I’ll be in Fairhaven if you need me. Oh, yeah, also the Scottish Highlands I guess?

Anyway, rewind a few days, and we were having breakfast in Buckie on the coast of the Firth of Moray before our first day of hiking.

Innkeeper: “Where are you walking to today?”

Seth: “Uh….”

Innkeeper: ”Fuck-a-Bears?”

Seth: ”Thank you, yes!”

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