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| Trailstar Party Time: Philbrick, Dr Fagan and Captain Grimes |
“I expect you’ll becoming a school master, sir. That’s what
most of the gentlemen does, sir, that gets sent down for indecent behaviour”.
(The college porter to the naive Paul Pennyfeather as Paul departed
Oxford after wrongly being sent down for running around the quad naked at night, having
previously been de-bagged by the Bollinger Club following their annual dinner.) From 'Decline and Fall', by Evelyn Waugh.
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| Wot? Why not smiling? In Glen Roy |
Paul Pennyfeather reflected. Not for the first time on this TGO Challenge. Life can throw strange things at you. Scottish backpackers expect the weather to be wet and cold and miserable. Anything else is normally a bonus. But the wall-to-wall sunshine and 24 degree centigrade temperatures when carrying a large pack were of questionable benefit.
Still, thought Pennyfeather, “embrace the
suck”.
Pennyfeather had heard an
American backpacker use that phrase and, having eventually worked out what it
meant, had decided it should be his mantra, there being much suck in life
which needed to be embraced. But
embracing it was not always easy. Still,
the amiable and encouraging presence of Dr Fagan helped as they trudged along
the road towards the Great Glen and a camp site with showers and resupply
parcels full of chocolate and stuff.
Grimes and Philbrick had disappeared several hours ago, Grimes
mysteriously vanishing into a forestry plantation and Philbrick had halted for a snooze in
the sun by a gurgling river. The team
eventually reassembled on the towpath of the Caledonian Canal, if lying hot, dishevelled
and thirsty in a hedgerow can be classed as reassembly.
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| At the Caledonian Canal |
They had heard that Digby Vane-Trumpington, with an injured
knee, was in Fort William and would be taking a taxi to the camp site to join
them. Philbrick telephoned him with an
order for wine and cheese and other goodies.
He muttered some last words into the phone, and Paul could have sworn
that his final instruction was “Oh, and Trumpington, if you value what
remains of your kneecaps, don’t be late.”
Vane-Trumpington was waiting at the site. Prendergast arrived, smiling. The team showered. Not together, obviously. The wine, intended to be drunk two days later, was opened. And it was good.
The following days turned into a blur. Despite his wooden leg Grimes frequently raced
ahead, prodding cattle away to protect Pennyfeather. Dr Fagan and Philbrick wandered behind "deep
in philosophical discussion”, Pennyfeather suggested to Grimes, who simply smirked in
response. The last of the Cheese and
Wine was drunk in the sunshine at an enjoyable spot by the River Spey not far
from the Melgarve Bothy. Over the wine Dr
Fagan sought to convince some lovely Canadians, Malcolm and Martha, who had not,
incidentally, consumed most of their cheese and wine days earlier but had
actually carried the stuff to its intended destination, of the problems with
climate science and the evils of wind turbines. Malcolm sought quietly to rebut the good
doctor’s analysis and change the subject.
A week later at Tarfside Pennyfeather met Malcolm and Martha again and
learnt that Malcolm was, amongst other things, an adviser to the Canadian
Government on climate change.
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| With Martha and Malcolm at the Cheese and Wine |
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| The wonderfully named Brisbane and Yeticlaws from the US of A: Two thoroughly nice blokes. And no, those aren't day packs that they are carrying. |
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| Glen Banchor: The best day. Simpy the best. |
They plodded on. At
Kingussie they marvelled at the US backpackers with their ladies' clutch bag sized
rucksacks and strange ‘trail names’.
Things like ‘Yeticlaws’ and ‘Brisbane’.
And they saw one happy Challenger, who must remain nameless, skipping, yes skipping, from the bar of the Silverfjord Hotel towards the bothy in Glen Feshie at four in the
afternoon having sunk eight pints of bitter and three glasses of scotch.
Grimes and Pennyfeather then put in, what for Pennyfeather
was ‘a big day’, off route, but on the lovely and easy path, up and over the
Feshie to the Geldie Ford, Pennyfeather being encouraged and cajoled by the
ever energetic and supportive Grimes. They would have told
Fagan and Philbrick of their plans, but these two had been passed hours earlier lying on the grass discussing how the world could be put to rights. If they are ever put in charge you should be
afraid. Very afraid.
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| With Captain Grimes |
Braemar. The Fife
Arms has become horrific since its revamp.
What’s with a stuffed deer with angel’s wings flying above the bar? Pennyfeather went to bed early to re-plan his route. He had to get home earlier than he had wanted because of a sick elderly mother. Grimes
explained that he was also going off route and was heading for the hills. “I'm not in the soup again old chap,” he assured
Pennyfeather, “but needs must, you know how it is”. Pennyfeather didn’t know. All he wanted was to get to the east coast quickly and with the minimum of discomfort. He’d had
enough of embracing the suck.
Balmoral passed in a blur.
Well after the coffee and cake at Her Majesty’s place, obviously. Ballater saw more niceness with lots of
Challengers, the re-appearance of the smiling Prendergast, the appearance of a cheerful,
excited Mrs Clutterbuck and also of a laid back, esoteric, ageing rock star in his trade mark cashmere sweater.
Pennyfeather eyed the top of Mount Keen from the dullest
mountain path north of Skiddaw. “Been
there, done that, can’t be bothered again”, he thought, opting for the
beautifully crafted but oh so artificial path over the shoulder, which he had
not taken before. Tarfside showed that
the cheerfully inebriated challenger last seen skipping out of Kingussie was safe
and well, still skipping, but had signed the pledge. Well the first part of that statement is
true. Lots of old friends were making bacon
butties at St Trinian’s Hostel.
Pennyfeather enjoyed the hugs and comradeship almost as much as the
bacon butties. North Water Bridge
campsite was, well, North Water Bridge Campsite. It has splendid new shower and toilet facilities. What it really needs each May is a pop-up bar and a
bacon buttie and cake shop. He headed off to the coast at 5.10 in the morning of the Wednesday and walked
along the empty beach from Kinnaber Links to the golf course and then up to the Park Hotel in Montrose to
sign out before mysteriously disappearing, never to be seen again by his
fellow travellers. In 2019.
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| An evening in the Mason's at Tarfside |
Epilogue
What happened to the ‘real’ Decline and Fall
characters?
Prendergast, unable to maintain discipline in the classroom
became the Chaplain in Dartmoor Gaol. The
reforming governor, in his efforts to rehabilitate the horrendously violent inmates,
had allowed them woodwork tools in the workshop. They used these to saw off Prendie’s head.
Philbrick, ever shady and politely menacing, had a spell
in Dartmoor, but was last seen being driven around Oxford in the back seat of an
open-topped Rolls Royce with a heavy fur rug over his knees.
Grimes, in the soup, escaped from Dartmoor Gaol by stealing
one of the warders’ horses whilst breaking rocks in a quarry on the moor. He galloped off into the fog, never to be seen
again. His wooden leg and his clothes
were found abandoned on a beach. His body was
never found, but as Pennyfeather smilingly reflected, Grimes was one of life’s
immortals.
Dr Fagan gave up being the headmaster of a minor public
school in Snowdonia and, being a polymath, established a sanatorium on the
south coast.
Pennyfeather, also a prisoner in Dartmoor, having innocently
become mixed up in the white slave trade, was taken from Dartmoor to Dr Fagan’s sanatorium,
allegedly with appendicitis. The Doctor
faked a death certificate and Pennyfeather disappeared from public view.
Any resemblance of the characters in these blog posts to
any person, either living or dead, is entirely intentional entirely
coincidental and is merely the outcome of my warped imagination and odd sense
of humour. The post has been written with affection, admiration and thanks for all these characters who helped me across Scotland - again.
Decline and Fall was Evelyn Waugh’s first novel, being published
in 1928. Waugh was, in my opinion, one
of the best authors of the twentieth century.
He created some of the funniest and most wonderful characters in fiction
as well as some of the most poignant. If
I had one thousandth of his literary skills I would be a happy man indeed.
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| Made it: a lonesome early morning selfie |
