Nothing stays the same.

I never knew they spoke a foreign language in Scotland and yet many of the signs around one of the Edinburgh stations make me almost feel as if I were back in Wales - all in two languages.

And the time was, going on a train journey was an exciting experience, full of huge, shiny, steamy engines and stations full of smoke, or at least many decades of the memory of it.

Now, you might as well be on a big, long bus, given the lack of nostalgic sounds and smells. But hey. Far cheaper and more relaxing than flying up here. And not treated quite as much like a herd of brainless cattle.

Still, a pleasant evening up here in Dundee. Nice people - even though my waitress in the bar was from Belfast and not a local - nice position looking out over the estuary and a bonus.

Had a stroll after my meal and bagged a Geocache.

Off to bed now to read some Ian Rankin. Local(ish) author in keeping with my surroundings.

Sleep tight.