Scotland was wet. At times it was merely wet. At other times it was extremely wet. The sun came out briefly in St.Andrews but after twenty minutes it retired, exhausted, behind ten layers of cloud.
Lambs everywhere. Gamboling, joyful, laughing lambs. Is it a sign of age that pleasure can be found in such simple things ? The sight of Black lamb triplets, playfully boxing like mad March hares, causes us to stop the car and stand laughing like children in the rain .
Outside a wine merchant signs of a very good Saturday evenings business.
A young Canadian couple in the Rent a Car Terminal unpack their suitcases and don every piece of clothing they've packed . Can it be that even Scots Vancouverites find the homeland cold ?
Everywhere we go we see Hugh Grant. Same flights, same hotels. We also see the parents of a Duchess. Queueing something royalty doesn't do. I'll say no more. 'The font' exchanges words.
Bob and Sophie will be collected tomorrow morning at eight.
