Dear Scotland

We're leaving today.

It's not that we don't love you. Though I have to admit the relentless greyness from September to March does get a bit wearing.

Really, it's not you though, it's us. You know we've always had that wanderlust, that inability to put down roots and keep them down. We really tried but, in the end, we have been lured away by the warm, wine-soaked south of France.

We will always remember our times together with great fondness and I sincerely hope we can remain close.

Yours,
The B family

PS: Can we come and stay for Christmas? And if it all goes poire-shaped over in France, can we run back with our tails between our legs and be sure of a warm welcome and a glass of malt?