I was at the secret cave by the shore in the mystic far east (Edinburgh), where the importer swings his lantern to signal the Big Agnes galleon to drop anchor and ship the goods ashore in the dinghy under cover of darkness.
I picked up a Fly Creek UL1 sample for test (Help ma’ Boab, it’s a stoater) and some other interesting bits and pieces. The tent will remain unseen until it’s been over 900m, my arse is burst with July’s indoor life and I can’t face taking another photie of clean gear.
I haven’t been in Edinburgh for ages, and it’s all different. Half the roads are missing and all the shops are different. It was hot too, and that’s not normal I’m sure.
Edinburgh looms large in my life, I spent much of 2000 through there fitting boilers and came back with a wife.