2 months.

Two months since we moved from deepest France profonde to the Scottish coast. It seems like a year.... or possibly years since we moved. 

Life has been hectic - driving up with Sophie, that heat wave night from hell in the hotel with shag pile carpets, staying in the house in town, getting to know the sausage dispensing breakfast chef at a nearby hotel, having the furniture delivered. The family diva has taken to her new home with remarkable ease. Dogs are resilient things - although biscuits help. 

The weather here is harsher, the scenery completely different, getting tradesmen easier. The cost of living in either place identical, the bureaucracy similar, the dog friendliness pretty much the same. Sophie has traded in croissant ends for oatcakes. One lesson is universal - when you travel with a shaggy dog you are never alone. Complete strangers will come up and chat as if they're long lost friends.

It fell to four degrees last night. Our pre-dinner glass of wine spent standing at the fence watching the moon rise out of the ocean. We're back inside after ten minutes  - no point in lingering in temperatures like that. Lots of military traffic out over the North Sea. That unmistakable deep throated rumble of jet fighters and afterburners. This morning Angus puts on as many layers as he can find before venturing out. Surprise, surprise it's warm and mild.

Into town with the family diva. A coffee and bowl of water at the cafe where Kate and William used to meet. We're too early for the kitchen to have made the croissants. Sophie does her ' I'm an orphan dog that's never been fed ' routine. She gets a digestive biscuit from the waitress. Sophie seems more than satisfied with this. Her tail goes into overdrive.  We finish and leave. No one else appears. Dog owners and students keep very different hours. 

A sign of the times. The fish and chip shop now does Halloumi Burger with Sriracha. This is presumably for the international clientele. The rest of the menu seems better tailored to Scottish tastes.