To He Who Waits-

- shall good things happen.

Today was earmarked for a bus trip to Inverness. Why take the car when the pass provides a journey for nothing?
As well as the scenery, the weather improved away from the mountains and became Moray coast weather which is usually much better than most places, that being the reason for sighting the reconaissance planes at Kinloss and Lossiemouth.

But although the weather was almost balmy for me, his Lordship, who does well in the heat of Malaysia and elsewhere of that ilk, when I am a reduced to a glowing heap, complained of the cold and was a tad miserable. I'm getting rather scared about his reaction to Shetland and Orkney next month. It might be that I lose him to hypothermia.

We walked along the banks of the Ness and he showed me the very B&B he turned down on his Land's End to John o'Groats cycle trip 2 years ago in favour of the adjacent hotel. Sometimes I feel as though I were part of that trip, so familiar am I with his every mile of the journey.

We cut the trip short and got the bus back, reluctantly bypassing the Mountain Cafe in Aviemore for a cake, in favour of a cider back home in Boat of Garten. That's what I call restraint of the highest order.

It's his Lordship who is playing the waiting game here-under the tree!