The Armchair Adventurer: Walking the dogs: Seiland 0-22hours

I feel strangely conspicuous as I walk cross the apron. I’m a northerner. Or so I’ve always been told. I clip my vowels until they bleed, I’m friendly to strangers, I prefer my beer with a head and I’ll sell my soul for pie. …. I pause while Thule sniffs and scurries around in the verge in front of the last house on the road. Before I know what’s going on he’s marked the illustrious start to my dog handling carrier by squatting and dumping on private property. …


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