Photos

Clicking on the title will take you to a Picasa site where I've popped some of the better images from the big camera (a Nikon D60 for those interested in those sort of facts, and if you are interested in those sort of facts you'll probably also want to know I was using the 18-55mm VR kit lens, and any editing done was carried out in iPhoto).

Witty and not so witty captions to come as and when I have a chance to dedicate a few moments to the task, and there are also probably more photos that need to get uploaded, so keep checking back.

Sunset - Conil

For anyone who wants to use any of the photos for personal use, please feel absolutely free, but if you do, and you haven't donated yet, please consider doing so!

www.justgiving.com/walkacrossspain.

Kite-Flying Kilted Pilgrim

If anyone happens to want to use any image for commercial use, please get in touch to discuss, the donation rates will be very reasonable. (If however you don't get in touch, and I find out, you will be hearing from my lawyers, who, unlike me, are not a tolerant and forgiving bunch.)

Kilt - Before and After

The Kilt at the start of the trip...

The Kilt at the end of the trip...

Annoyingly due to poor photography from me on the "before" photo it makes it look like the colours in the kilt actually managed to get more intense after 38 days under the Spanish sun. I don't think this is the case.

It is clearly a bit more crumpled now, and has the odd stain or two, but it has held up amazingly well. Interestingly you can also see on the after picture, in addition to the absence of the kilt pin, the exit wounds from its loss on Tarifa beach, on the left of the kilt as we look it. (A couple of these tears were also caused by me taking my rucksack off and managing to place it squarely on the pin as I lowered it to the ground.)

Weight

Having arrived back in normal life many people have been commenting on how thin I appear, and it is true there is a lot of rib showing. I've gone down a notch on my belt, although I think I should really be two down, but I've reached the end of the notches. Indeed, by the end of the walk I could actually take the kilt off without undoing it. I'd asked a few people how much they thought I'd lost and most said around a full stone, and I would probably have agreed.

Today I finally had the opportunity to weigh myself and in actual fact it's only half a stone. I was just over 11 and a half stone when I left, and I'm now at just over 11. I can only guess that what's happened is I've lost most of the excess fat I had stored up before I left and some of this was replaced by muscle (I'd wager primarily in the leg regions...), and as muscle is considerably more dense than fat a small amount of extra muscle compensates in weight for quite a lot of fat loss.

No doubt in a couple of weeks time I'll be back to my usual 12-hours-a-day-in-the-office condition...

Casualties

Two items that had supported me during the entire journey were sadly lost in Tarifa.

The first, my trusty kilt pin. During the entire journey it had done a marvellous job of keeping the kilt in place, and my modesty intact, no matter how strong the wind. Alas, the winds of Tarifa are different beasts. In the march up the beach to the end of the journey I was ploughing head first into what seemed like a full on gale (pleasantly loaded with sand...), and around the time I arrived level with the first houses of the town I stopped for a breather and, glancing down, I realised the kilt pin was no longer there. It appears it had been blown clean off by the force of the wind. It's little wonder the place is such a mecca for windsurfers.

Clearly the lack of kilt pin made the rest of my day in windy Tarifa a little more interesting for some of the passers-by than it might have been otherwise.

The second casualty was the toe nail on the big toe on my left foot. You may remember there was a previous post showing said nail a very unhealthy colour, and being compared to its equivalent on the right foot, along with a question as to which one might fall off first. Well, those who guessed left, guessed right.

Rather amazingly, despite the damage it had sustained (in the first week!) it managed to stay put for the entire journey, but on Sunday, just as I dived into the ocean for a pre-departure swim, it decided it had completed its task, and took leave of me. There are photos, but in the interests of everyone I think it's best they stay firmly off the blog.

Speed

Speed

We're driving up to Seville, where Ross, his girlfriend Lesley and Sarah have their flights home to London.

I just can't get over how quickly you travel in a car. On the highways in Spain each 100 metres is marked off with a single digit from 1 to 9 on the reflective poles by the side of the road, whilst the kilometres have their own sign with the kilometre number on it.

While walking down the highways these signs were pretty important, as I counted my way to the next important point, be it rest stop, garage, or town. After so many kilometres down the roads I had the timing fairly well controlled. Each kilometre was just under 10 minutes, so each 100 metres was just under a minute.

We're cruising along at a fairly decent pace (don't worry Mrs Campbell, Ross is driving very responsibly!), and i'm watching these signs flashing by. A kilometre sign when walking was a major event, in the car you see two a minute. Quite a difference. It's actually almost shocking. Although no doubt even by the time we reach Seville I'll be completely used to this pace again. 

Vera, Ross and a whale

Vera, Ross and a whale

Tarifa

Tarifa

Getting used to not having to walk is going to be difficult. One benefit is I can take other forms of transport though...

Celebration lunch

Celebration lunch

Tarifa

So it's done.

I'm here at the end of Spain, at the end of Europe and at the end of my voyage.

It's been simply incredible. Of course none of it would have been possible without the help of so many people...

Thanks to all my friends who supported and encouraged me wholeheartedly from the time I first voiced what might have been just another crazy idea of mine. Special mention for Ross, who came out to walk during the first section, and also to Annie, who sorted out the UK public relations and had the story placed in many publications.

Thanks to everyone who's donated, giving their hard earned pounds or Euros to help fight this cruel disease.

Thank you to everyone I met on the route who with their kind acts or words kept my spirits up and gave me the strength to keep going. Many are on the blog, but many more aren't, due to lack of time on my part, although they more than deserve their post.

Finally, thanks to my family; father and sister Jane who were with me by messages and calls from Scotland, and sister Sarah who came out to support and walk on the last week.

And thanks to my mother, for everything.