Been on the last leg of Ian Latta's stag do. Hearts v Kilmarnock. Dj: "let's hear the famous Tyncastle roar". Three nil to the away side. Ouch for the Jambos. Freezing and unbelieving. They don't sell alcohol inside Scottish grounds - maybe they should start.
Still, the qworn curry pie was to die for. And bar Mercat brought a Liverpool away win and the best cheese jacket potato on earth. And now I'm at Liverpool Central playing nothing but The Proclaimers on iPod.
A lovely three days: Chinese restaurants, £5 pints of bitter, Greyfriars Bobby in full sing.
The Tower no-show, a bus drops me off at Ocean Port and the middle of Everywhere.
I'm getting too old for this. Didn't even enter a lappy this time round. Got my thrills from the tankers steaming in and out of the Forth of Fifth or Fifth of Forth. Hey even the toon put five past Sunderland.
Jb went museum and sleep sightseeing. Fellow roomates Brom and Matt snored their way to Abroath. Trailer for sale or rent?
Strange apartments on/in marshland. The royal dingy Britannia moored yards away. The Queen Is Dead boys.
The long road home via Bus Number 10, Mercat bar, Haymarket.
One nil Maxi! Three points and we storm to 12th in the table.
And then cousin Katy, rich, Coggers and a last gasp shove home. I need to blog this before BIundellsands.
Give me veggie haggis ahead of Paris any day.
It's nice to know you enjoyed your stay there. That's the most important thing in travelling.
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