Still ALVIE.

But only just.

Ayiaaa, D of E is murder!

I've discovered I have Uphillophobia. It means that whenever a particularly nasty stretch of uphill hiking comes into view, I break out into a rash of complaints.

However, as a counterbalance, I've got Downhillophilia - I *literally* dance my way down steep mountains.

Yay.

We walked with two teachers for 10 miles. Or, more specifically, one teacher and one studenty-type person we called Gilbert. Or Simon. (His name was Glen.)
They abandoned us.

We were half an hour away from the end and they said, "You can find your own way back from here," and walked off. So we scrambled down the last stretch of the steepness, (by which point they were literally over the hills and far away) and one of the group collapses screaming, unable to walk...

She *had* actually torn a ligament, and wasn't just making it up, but hey.

SO! I drop my map, gloves and backpack and do a Lassie impression:
"Run Lassie, GO! FETCH HELP!"

And, a 200 yard sprint over rough ground later, I do espy with my little eye Gilbert and aforementioned teacher. After doing the YMCA dance (in bright blue waterproofs) and screeching at the top of my voice to attract their attention, I manage to trail back up to our gawping group, and become heroine of the hour.

Although I can't breathe for the hour because I'm unfit and shouldn't be sprinting after a 10 mile walk.

Harum. No scarum.

I should write in here more often, ya?