As I mentioned earlier, Mike got sick in Paris just before we left on our long journey to the start of the West Highland Way. We are now in Milngavie, expecting to start hiking tomorrow and he is still no better. At any rate, he nearly passed out carrying his stuff to the hotel, which does not bode well. He has been trying quite hard not to whine, as he navigated London and Glasgow like something out of a B movie about zombies. He has been feeding himself varying amounts of food off my plate, depending on how much he decides he can cope with. As for me, I did seem to catch it from him, but it's affecting me much less and I usually manage to walk it off. I am not passing out or stopping eating, or anything like that. Antonia is very tired as would be expected, and her wasp sting has gone away to be replaced by an impending eye infection. Let's hope she fends that off too.
I really enjoyed our train ride to Glasgow. The worst part was waiting in the station in Euston, where Mike somehow nearly got into a fight with a really strange guy and Antonia fell asleep in my arms at least an hour before the train was ready for us. The Caledonian Sleeper is one of the cosiest night trains I've ever taken and actually one of the cheapest with the bargain berth tickets. I slept well and was awake at 5:30 am looking for the moment we passed the Scottish border on the gps. It seemed as if the landscape got wilder almost immediately as we climbed up into the southern uplands. It was all grey becks, looming clouds and swollen green hills. Of course, it was raining.
We had a slightly chaotic arrival in Glasgow with a couple of zombies (Mike and Antonia) and our luggage scattered all around. All I remember now is that Antonia and I ended up pulling our socks and shoes on on the platform instead of in the train. Then we began the very important search for breakfast and coffee (except for Mike who can't face anything).