The West Coast Trail (WCT) is a coastal wilderness component of Pacific Rim National Park Reserve. It has the reputation of being one of the most grueling treks in North America. It is isolated, strenuous, physically challenging and potentially hazardous. It is also extremely rewarding due to the spectacular scenery and unique setting.

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After a speedy unpacking, I left Sarah, Josh, Abi & Kelly and set off for the 150Km logging road excursion to Port Renfrew. I was going to sleep there in the truck and take the bus back in the morning. It was the most economical way to get the 5 of us to-and-from the trail.

The journey was (thankfully) uneventful. I was very cognoscente of the fact that I didn’t have a spare tire, however at 10:40pm I arrived – “shaken, but not stirred”. I made a nest in the back of the truck, and crashed…(softly!)

The next morning after a breakfast that would have fed FIVE champions,. I boarded the West Coast Trail Express, and for the next 4 hours, revisited my old friends – ‘The Potholes’ – that I had grown so fond of the previous night!

The bus arrived at the trail head in good time for the Pre-Trek Briefing and as I came up to the Parks Building, there was “Team SideStix” ready to go. (The beaming smile that lit up Sarah’s face for a brief moment even outdid the sun! She hadn’t actually known that I’d made it there & back, because there was no cell reception in Port Renfrew!)

West Coast Trail Map – Day 1.

Day One really started at the 1pm Parks Canada briefing.

The briefing was informative and brief! Many thanks to Dawn for keeping it short, because she had informed us that if we got to the point at the edge of Pachena Beach by 2pm, we could avoid the first set of ladders… Why do something today that we can put off till tomorrow!! There were going to MORE than enough ladders to contend with!

Team SideStix!

So, after a quick picture, we were off and running…and I MEAN running, because the tide was rushing in and waves were licking at the rocks. Within minutes it would be impassable.

Of course when disaster strikes, it chooses the most inopportune moment…and as Sarah took the first step on the rock shelf, her left SideStix made an ugly “click”…the tip sole had unscrewed, come off and was gone! In the dash to start, we hadn’t had time to thread-lock the feet! There was no time to hesitate, so with the beautifully machined aluminum ball – from the exposed ball-joint, grinding on barnacles, we scrambled around the point.

Putting on the new tip.

That was a sobering moment; however we stopped just before the beach exit to re-shoe the SideStix, check packs & boots and generally re-group after our somewhat inauspicious beginning. Then, with new (thread-locked) feet in place we left the beach to enter the cathedral-like solemnity of the moss draped rain-forest.

It’s hard to think up enough superlatives when describing the West Coast Trail (WCT). It’s an incredible mixture of challenges and rewards. The challenges of the terrain, the packs, aching muscles (and in some cases, aging bodies!) yet the rewards make it all worthwhile. The forest, the beaches, the waves – like freight trains bearing down on the battered shore. (The WCT was originally built as a life-saving trail, to give the survivors of ship wrecks a way out of the wilderness.)

At Km-9 we were treated to the visual and auditory feast of a huge conglomeration of sea lions barking 7 duelling and cavorting on a sandstone ledge at the foot of the cliffs that the WCT traversed.

A 'heave' of sea lions.

At Km-12 we came back on to the beach. Although we were feeling tired, and could have stopped at the camp site there, we decided to push on to Km-14, Darling Creek. The reason was to make the following day less arduous, however we only got to our destination at 7:30pm meaning that we set up camp at dusk and cooked in the dark… Not optimal!

Supper time at Darling River.

All in all it was an excellent first day, spirits were high and other than the first calamity, the SideStix were flawless, and Sarah was more sure-footed than ever before.

A lovely morning sun greeted us and we languished in its warming rays. Speed was definitely not on the agenda and breaking camp took till 10am!

Sleepy Heads…

From Darling River, we had about 3Km of beach before we had to re-enter the forest at Tsocowis Creek. (Valencia Bluffs (about 1 Km further,) is impassable via the beach.)

On the beach again…

We had quickly learned that though the forest was beautiful, it’s many challenges of mud, logs, ladders and booby-trap board walks made slow going for Sarah.

Leaving the beach…

Sarah scales the heights…

Booby-trap board walks…

At Km-19, we passed a derelict Steam Donkey – used by loggers many years before, to haul away the old-growth giants that used to inhabit Vancouver Island’s West Coast.

Derelict Steam Donkey…

At Km-20 (Trestle Creek) we re-joined the beach – or more accurately the sandstone flats.

Sarah on the Sandstone Flats…

We made great progress, with the only hindrance being our exploration of the myriad tidal pools.

Up to this point Sarah had been using her carbide-cleated hiking tips. The articulating ball & socket meant the sole could retain good contact with the uneven surfaces that she walked on. Sticky mud proved arduous because tremendous suction would build up as she hauled them out, however wet wood and slippery rock were easily handled.

Sand shoes!

As we approached Klanawa river, the sandstone gave way to sand and so Sarah attached the sand-shoe tips. The difference was amazing, and instead of sinking several inches on every step, she floated on top of the sand and was able to set a pace that I found difficult to keep up with!

At Klanawa we left the beach and crossed the river via cable car. It was a fun experience and Abi did it twice – just because.

Cable Car over the Klanawa River…

Klanawa River to Tsusiat Falls comprised 2 Kms of cliff-edge trails & board walks. The views were magnificent, and the advancing fog added a surreal glow to the stark landscape.

Many ladders to Tsusiat Camp Site…

As we approached the long ladder climb down to the beach at Tsusiat Falls, the mud claimed one of Sarah’s hiking-tip soles. We stopped to attach a new tip, however the double effort of navigating the mud and pulling the SideStix out of the mud was extremely fatiguing.

Sunset at Tsusiat Camp Site…

The day ended with a nice (re-hydrated) meal, hot-chocolate and a beautiful sunset. We had experienced just about every terrain that the WCT had to offer… and we were still smiling!

]]> http://sidestix.com/124/on-the-trail/feed/ 0 http://sidestix.com/234/day-3/ http://sidestix.com/234/day-3/#comments Sat, 05 Sep 2009 13:00:15 +0000 Kerith http://www.sidestix.com/index.php?option=com_wordpress&p=234

Cool temperatures, cloud & fog, combined with the prospect of the longest day of the trail, helped speed us through the process of breaking camp. Not as fast as we’d hoped though, and it was 8am when we headed off on the beach to Tsusiat Point.

The beach sand was freshly ‘groomed’ and made for a swift passage, however as we approached the first headland, we were welcomed with an awful stench!

We hurried up-wind, only to be greeted by another decomposing carcase – this time it was a tiny though perfectly-formed shark!

The waves were crashing over Tsusiat Point, and swirling through the tunnel that was our intended route! We observed the rhythm of the waves for a while and then Kelly & Abi scooted through, clambering onto a rock shelf, to avoid getting soaked. While they watched the wave action from one side and I from the other, Sarah whipped through the tunnel and up on to the ledge. Then we paused for photos!

The trail returned to the forest at Km-29. We soon entered an Indian Reserve and were able to appreciate some old-growth forest, for the first time on the trail.

We stopped at a creek spilling from Tsuquadra Lake, and filled our water bottles with the filter-pump.

The trail took us high along the shoreline cliffs, and though grey, the views were nonetheless dramatic.

We arrived at the Nitinat narrows, and for some unknown reason had to wait for 40 minutes for the ferry.

Giffin & Frances and Tarek & Lisa (2 couples we became friends with) were also waiting for the ferry. We clambered aboard and to our amazement; the ride was over – almost before it began. 30 seconds is probably an over exaggeration for the duration of the ride!

The dock where the ferry landed was home to a crab / salmon shack and since food was a prime motivator on this trip, we bought 3 salmon plates and 5 beers ($105). The food was for the kids, however Sarah & I sampled a little before heading off on the trail ahead of the kids.

The trail continued in the forest, serving up its usual variety of roots, mud and rotting board-walks.

Finally things became easier when we crossed the Cheewhat River suspension bridge, and then were able to get back on to the beach.

We pushed ahead, knowing that we would have to leave the beach for a brief while, to get around the impassable Dare Point, however for some strange reason we couldn’t get to the beach access noted on the map at Km-38. The waves were washing up onto the headland rocks and although turning back was not a pleasant thing to do, it was certainly the wisest course of action.

Having now added a couple of Kms to what was already going to be a 17Km day, we trudged on. The distance was taking a toll on Sarah’s hip, and despite MUCH resistance, I insisted on taking her pack for the last 4Kms.

We arrived at the Cribs Creek campsite at 8pm and thankfully the kids had set up camp and started a fire going. Supper & bed happened in very short order. We were all glad to have that gruelling day behind us.

We left Cribs Creek in the customary fog. The tide table and map information indicated that we would have to use the forest trail, so we bush-whacked on a path less than 30ft from the beach. The salal bushes crowded us ever closer, grabbing at Sarah’s Stix and making progress painfully slow.

After a kilometre we had had enough and scrambled through to the beach, where a wide open expanse welcomed us!

Once again the tidal pools kept us entertained. We watched duelling hermit crabs and played tug-of-war with sea anemones.

The sea-worn sculptures were amazing.

Sarah in a Sandstone Sculpture.

We had to leave the beach at Carmanah Point, and ascended the ladders & staircases to the lighthouse.

After walking around and admiring the facility, (including the beach-rock labyrinth) we headed back to the trail… and were greeted by the only 4-legged wild-life we saw on the whole hike… Bambi!

It was a short hike back down to the beach, and there a few hundred metres away was the highlight of the day… “Chez Monique”… a Beach Burger Shack!

This little island of culinary paradise is on First Nations land, however the owners were away for a while and the stand was being run by some (German?) volunteers. Their pay was food and a place to pitch their tent, however they seemed content and they made FABULOUS burgers.

We sat with our German & Edmontonian friends and had a feast!

Satiated, we buckled on our packs, (easy on the waist strap!) and moved out into the fog.

At Km-46 Sarah, Abi & I forded Carmanah Creek. Josh & Kelly decided to use the cable car – just because.

As we approached Bonilla Point we waded through a sea of sea gulls, which Abi took great delight in stirring up!

Abi dances with gulls.

At the Point, the kids did some blister maintenance.

We spent the rest of the afternoon meandering the remaining 5Kms to Walbran Creek, which was our destination for the day.

We found an excellent tent-site in a natural amphitheatre of logs, and used our tarp for the first time – to keep off some of the fog-dew.

Firemaking, washing, cooking and socialising brought to a close, this wonderful day.

Walbran Creek Sunset.

Walbran Creek to Camper Bay was an ‘inside day’ (the forest – that is). Ladders, logs, ladders, mud, ladders, roots, oh, and did I say ladders?!

By now we had discovered that the SideStix sand-feet were also excellent mud & root feet. The hardened steel central pin could find purchase in the most awkward places, and the 4” basket prevented the Stix from disappearing into the mud. Because of this they became the feet-of-choice.

After an hour we stopped to add carbide cleats to Sarah’s hiking boot.

There was a beautiful suspension bridge over Logan Creek, with ladder access, to & from!

We stopped for lunch at the top of the Cullite Creek ravine. There were over 200 rungs down to the creek, where we would have to take a cable car across – followed by 200 or so rungs to get up the other bank!

I took advantage of the break, to repair one of the sand / mud shoes. The repeated grinding on sharp rock had caused the deck fabric to tear and the centre spindle had punched through. Sarah still had great grip on wood, however in mud the Stix would just disappear. I relocated the centre spindle towards the edge of the basket, where some fresh material would give the tip a new ‘lease of life’.

The Logan Creek, down-across-up trip was fairly slow, however we have found the ladders to be far less arduous than the mud, roots & logs.

The bridge at Sandstone Creek had been washed out, however because of the lack of rain this summer, the rope was fairly redundant.

We continued on boardwalks and through mud-holes, gaining about 100M (330ft) before descending rapidly to Camper Bay.

This camp site was cold and wind-swept. The kids had set up camp and gone swimming, however they were having a hard time getting warm again.

We had supper round a communal camp fire and then called it a day.

We had an intentionally late start today, leaving Camper Bay at 11am because it was only 5Km to Owen Point and the tide would not let us get the Point until 5pm.

Camper Creek has a cable car running over it, but due to the low water level we were able to rock-hop the creek.

The first two kilometres were in the forest, and provided the usual challenges…

We re-accessed the beach at about 1pm and then meandered along the hard-packed silt and tidal pools. The headland before Owen Point provided a magnificent back-drop, so we paused and took many photos!

After the headland we jumped surge-channels…

…and played ‘chicken’ with the waves…

We arrived at the Point at about 3pm and the water was much too high to get across, so we stopped for a late lunch.

This was potentially our last lunch, so the kids took the decision to eat the following day’s lunch as well!

After we had eaten, I explored a little, and found a way over the point. It required some rope-work, however everyone wanted to continue, rather than wait 2 hours for the tide to drop.

Once we made it over the top, we were able to enter the caves at Owen Point and we spent the next hour clambering and sliding – thoroughly exploring this amazing space.

We posed for a group shot, in front of the gold & green moss covered rocks.

From Owen Point to Thrasher Cove the terrain changed again – this time to boulders. With sizes ranging from soccer balls to houses, the trail became a maze.

Combined with logs & trees that the waves had tossed up like matchsticks, this proved a challenging but very enjoyable part of the trail.

By the time we reached Thrasher Cove, the tide had risen and the waves were washing over the boulders. We had made the campsite – but only just in time!

That evening we made plans for an early start the following day. It was to be the last day on the trail, and in order for us to make the ferry connections to get home, we would need to be finished hiking by noon-ish.

We were on the trail by 7:30am, half an hour later than planned, but on the whole we were pretty happy with our de-camping skills!

The trail from Thrasher Cove to the Gordon River Trailhead was all inland, and the first kilometre was a brutal mixture of ladders, mud slides & switch-backs. I am still baffled how a trail like that is sustainable, because of the unbelievable erosion that it is causing. Hopefully Parks Canada will be addressing that in the near future!

Once we joined the main trail, the ground conditions became much better.

At Km-71 we passed the highest point on the WCT, although because of the fog we couldn’t really appreciate it.

The detritus of logging was everywhere as we hiked the remaining few Kms. Cables wound around, under and even through the middle of trees, like some gigantic spiders nest.

Another derelict steam donkey hove into view at Km-72.

We scaled more ladders,

Scrambled over more roots,

Until at last we came to Km-75 & the end of the West Coast Trail.

Abi & Josh had reached the end of the trail quite a while before Sarah, Kelly & I. Kelly was taking it slow, in order to give his aching knee a break, and Sarah was moving slower because we had to switch tips. The sand / mud tips had worn through again and I didn’t have time to re-configure them due to our ferry commitments.

The ferry was slow to arrive (again) however eventually it arrived and we all clambered on board.

It was a brief ride, and from the middle of the river, Giffin was able to get a cell-phone signal, so he called Evan, the ‘Parking Dude’ to come and pick us up. There was no sign of Takek & Lisa at this point, however we knew we would meet up pretty soon.

About half an hour later we congregated at the Coastal Kitchen Cafe and poured over their amazing menu like a precious manuscript…. until a sudden power outage forced us to relocate to the Port Renfrew Hotel (which has an auxiliary generator!)

The food may not have been as inspiring, however the company was excellent and we basked in the glow of camaraderie, achievement and fried food!

Lunch at the ‘Vehicle Exchange’.

After about 4 hours of driving, we pulled into a campsite close to Lake Manyara. This was to be the lunch stop, and vehicle exchange, however it transpired that the cook was IN the vehicle we were supposed to be meeting, and when, half an hour later it showed up, loaded with 5 returning tourists, we realised that this particular ‘flight crew’ was going to be pulling a double shift!
With lunch over, and the jeep packed we were asked to make full payment for the safari before leaving. This was unexpected, and since our confidence level was at an all-time low we were hesitant to comply. This resulted in a heated discussion that went around in circles and could have lasted longer than the safari itself, however we asked the returning tourists about their experience. They were generally positive, and this gave us enough confidence for us to ‘throw caution to the wind’. We counted out the remaining balance, got an official looking receipt (and almost asked for finger prints…) and then departed.

Ellen & Susan in the Jeep.

5 hours later we entered the Serengeti National park. (4 hours of driving plus 1 hour for the driver to settle the park bill from the previous safari!) The plains stretched out to the horizon in all directions, an endless sea of brown grass with the merest hint of green. The idea that this could support life was incredible, however as we drove further in to the park, we passed herd after herd of small black-streaked Thompson Gazelles, interspersed with almost theatrically grotesque Wart Hogs.
As the evening shadows grew longer we had one of the most magical and defining moments of the safari. Three cheetahs were lying next to the ‘road’ (translated: graded gravel track.) They lay on a slight mound, looking out at the Thompson Gazelles in the distance, hardly glancing at us as we clicked & gasped in equal proportions.

Cheetahs on the mound.

Suddenly one of them tensed; sat up, then in unison they all sprang up and glided off through the grass, with an effortless mile-eating lope. Whatever prey they had spotted was certainly indistinguishable to us and before long both cheetahs and gazelles were mere specks in a shifting savanna sea.

Cheetah spies it’s prey.

Still glowing from this spectacular encounter, we carried on, only to stop a short while later at another amazing sight. A pride of lions were guarding a partially eaten water buffalo.

Hyenas paced nearby – close enough to smell the kill, yet far enough to stay out of harm’s way.

Vultures kept vigil in a nearby tree.

With the setting sun providing a spectacular backdrop, we arrived at our camp site. We pitched our tents, ate supper and took a somewhat nervous sojourn to the bathroom (very cognoscente of the fact that there was no barrier between us and the ‘slavering beasts of Africa’!) Sleep came rapidly, punctuated only by the occasional grunts & howls which sounded much nearer & more menacing than they really were.

Next morning we ate breakfast in our ‘dining cage’ – the wire mesh ostensibly there to keep the wild animals away from our scrambled eggs – however the image of ‘feeding time in the hamster cage’ was not lost on us!

The plan for ‘Day-2’ was an all-day game drive. Victor had prepared boxed lunches for us and shortly before 9am we were off.

A pair of majestic giraffe provided us with our first photo op. They move with utter grace, which belies their awkward form.

Then came another magical moment
of the safari. A female leopard and her cub were walking close to the edge of the track.

We followed them for at least half an hour, watching their interactions. At one point they walked right past the jeep, brushing the wheels, so we looked straight down on their backs.

With the smallest of reaches, we could have stroked them (and no doubt lost our hands!)

Although it’s hard to imagine that any sighting could be significant after such a display, in fact everything we saw added to the intricate mosaic of the Serengeti.

From the comical wart-hog,

to soaring cranes,

prides of lion,

to dazzling starlings, each had their part to play.

In their incessant search for greener pastures, the wildebeest and zebras slowly migrate in a circular path around the 15,000 square Kms that make up the Serengeti. We watched countless thousands as young & old, they moved slowly across the landscape – as unstoppable as the tide.

Another unstoppable force on the Serengeti is the elephant. We pulled over at the sight of an approaching heard, revelling in the grace and gentle beauty of these giants.

They stopped a mere 30 meters away, shifting from foot to foot, waving their fan-like ears and ripping up the occasional trunk-full of grass. It seems they were waiting for us to move, because we were parked in their (unmarked) path, and although there was flat ground around us (all the way to the horizon,) Africa is theirs.

We backed up and moments later the herd moved on, from ancient matriarch to tiny calves, a grey, mud encrusted sea of gentle power.

One of the joys of being on safari at this time of year is the incredible number of young we saw. Every species seemed to have birthed within the previous few weeks and in the case of one hippo, we are convinced that we witnessed the actual birth!

From amazing sights to amazing coincidences… as we were driving along, a vehicle passed us, and Susan suddenly shouted out, “MARY!” She had seen (and more incredibly, recognized!) our friends from Kilimanjaro. We called out “simama”( which means Stop!) to Chas, and both jeep
s slid to a halt and backed up. In all of the Serengeti, we just happened to be on the same track as Mary, Shabeena & John, and it turned out that they too were heading for the Ngorongoro Crater the following day.

‘Day-2’ came to a close under another gorgeous setting sun and we returned to the camp site for supper and a welcome sleep.

The plan for ‘Day-3’ was a morning game drive, followed by lunch at the camp site. We would then pack the vehicle and head off to the Ngorongoro Crater. So after breakfast we set out, however before hunting for game, we had to hunt for water, because it seemed that Robb, the owner of the tour company had neglected to purchase enough water for us (even though our contract said we should have 3L each per day!) 1L for 4 people in the African sun was just not enough, so we went to a local ‘watering hole’ (bar!) and bought up all their water.

After the water excursion, Chas (the driver) took us to a couple of Hippo-hangouts. One of which featured dead hippos and komodo dragons and a stench that was beyond belief!

Leaving the hippos to their ‘various & varied’ activities we returned to camp for lunch.

The drive to the Ngorongoro took about 4 hours and although we took several side-tracks looking for game, we were unsuccessful. We needn’t have worried though, because the wild-life was waiting for us at the Ngorongoro camp site!

Shortly after we arrived, there was a commotion in the jungle behind the cook house. Two bull elephants were fighting (in a slow-motion sort of way!) Of course I was right in there with my camera, so much so that a guide yelled out to me to get out of there, because if they should change their interest to me, there was no way I could out-run them!

The vanquished bull ambled off into the jungle and the victor then turned to the camp and started walking straight towards us!

This obviously caused a little excitement among the on-lookers… and a little trepidation in Sarah, because at that precise moment, her other SideStix broke in exactly the same place as the one on the mountain!

It soon became clear that this ‘rampaging bull’ was in fact just on a daily pilgrimage to its watering hole – which happened to be the cook-house water-storage tank!

As we didn’t have enough clamps to make another crutch repair, I became Sarah’s ‘right-hand-man’ for the rest of the Safari.

We settled down for the night in our little dome tents, very conscious of the fact that there was at least one elephant out there who felt very ‘at home’ in this particular campsite!

At around 2am I was awoken by a snuffling, scrabbling noise, and the tent was shaking slightly. Switching on my head-light, I saw Sarah’s SideStix (the good one!) disappearing under the flysheet. Lunging forward, I grabbed it and jerked it backwards & forwards – in an attempt to scare off the perpetrator (which I assumed was a monkey.) The commotion awoke Sarah, and as I described the foiled heist, I unzipped the top of the fly sheet, and peaked out – to see 2 hyenas disappearing into the shadows behind the adjacent tree! I have no idea what they would have done with a prototype sports crutch, however it seems that scavenging in the hyena world is not limited to edible matter.

A further pre-dawn interruption, involving heavy breathing, snorting and strange ripping sounds transpired, (upon peaking out of the tent top-vent) to be the massive horned head of a Cape Buffalo, daintily ‘mowing’ the grass between our guy-ropes.

‘Day – 4’. The Ngorongoro game drive was only going to be a half day as there would still be a 4 hour drive to get back to Moshi. Our safari contract had indicated that we would eat a b
oxed lunch in the crater, thereby maximizing our time with the game, however there wasn’t suitable food left for this (another organizational ‘strike’ against the Bush Explorer outfit) so we would have to return to the campsite by noon, for a hot lunch and a speedy departure.

The crater is about 600m deep and covers an area of 260 Sq.Km. It contains an estimated 25,000 animals which live in the varied terrain, comprising highlands, bushlands and grasslands.

There was also a lot of dust!

We saw lioness & cub in a strange and yet very deliberate dance with a male lion.

The mother & cub kept about 400m distance away from the male. When she stopped, he stopped. When she moved, he moved.

Our driver indicated that he thought the male lion was on watch, however it seemed more that the lioness was protecting her cub from the adult male!
There were Cape Buffalo with young, (this one looked familiar… from the night before!)

Also Wart hogs with babies.

After a brief stop at a hippo pool, where we saw a hippo out of the water (not a common sight)

We started heading back towards the crater rim. It was then that we saw a conglomeration of jeeps ahead. We pulled up and sure enough in the faaaar distance a pair of Rhinos could be seen. This was the last of the so-called ‘Big Five’. (Elephant, Lion, Leopard, Buffalo and Rhinoceros – listed by big game hunters, because they were the most difficult game to hunt on foot.)

So, with that last ‘cherry on the cake’ we drove up the steep single-track road up the crater rim and back to the camp site.

At camp we were greeted by a rainstorm…

and lunch.

We had made arrangements with the Moshi Orthopaedic Centre to purchase a pair of replacement crutches, and since we had given our expected arrival time, we packed up and set off as quickly as we could.

The drive back was ‘interesting’, involving more close calls (for us and pedestrians) than one would usually expect in a lifetime! Running out of gas and waiting for an hour while Chas went off in search of fuel just added to our exasperation and when we finally arrived at our hotel in Moshi we were glad that this particular adventure had ended!

Our final summation of the safari: The animals we saw were incredible and Chas, the driver, notwithstanding his limited English, had a great knack for finding them. Victor, the cook, produced some very tasty meals. He was no doubt limited by the provisions he had been supplied. Robb, the company owner, ‘talked the talk’ but didn’t ‘walk the walk’. He said all the right things, and ‘promised the earth’ however his delivery was well short of the mark.

TTFN.