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Leaving the balloon

We crashed against the side of a mountain, the balloon was ripped to shreds and we sustained serious injuries, but, as Juan points out, bathing his wounds in Vintage Balmenach Private Reserve, we aren't in as bad a condition as when Morag, the ethereally beautiful, but terrifyingly vicious, landlady of The Cheeky Monkey, in Aberfeldy, throws us out at closing time.

Because of the huge amount of cakes and pastries we ate on board The Lion, we are both grossly overweight and, having to stop to rest every few minutes, we spend several days crawling around the mountain, rescuing the kegs of Vintage Caol lla, Linkwood, Lochside and Bunnahabhainn Private Reserve that fell from the balloon when we crashed. Then, to celebrate, Juan breaks open a barrel of his Special Reserve and, offering toast after toast to the indefatigableness of fat climbers, and fortifying ourselves against altitude sickness, cold, hunger, thirst, fatigue and lowering of the spirits, we lumber over the mountains, as fast as we possibly can.

Professor Humperdink's Diary