Thrice Cursed

Not the best of days today, though the weather and scenery were sublime.
One puncture is bad luck. Two punctures is freaky. Three is the spirit world taking the mickey. A 15km enforced walk shortened only by a kind spirit from Falkirk in a campervan, who picked me up and saved me at least half an hour of walking.
On the way, had the bejasus scared out of me by a tweedy gentleman firing off a shotgun in his garden. Strange day.