Brig O'Doon

It was typical Scottish seaside weather as we set off by train from Edinburgh with our buckets and spades to visit Lesley, my mislaid-for-a-number- of -years -friend in Ayr, 'Wham ne'er a toun surpasses. For Honest men and Bonnie lasses....'

She had promised us a day on the beach in sizzling summer temperatures, but had forgotten to clear it with the powers above, so that we had light drizzle all day and no sand in our sandwiches to contend with after all.

Instead she gave us a lovely lunch accompanied by enough red wine to lubricate not only His Lordship's throat, but enabled him to quote reams of Tam 'o' Shanter as we visited the Burns' Museum, Burns' Cottage and the infamous Brig o' Doon where Maggie, Tam's grey mare, lost her tail to the witches of Old Alloway Kirk.

It was interesting to travel through towns we haven't seen for years, Kilwinning, Johnstone, Irvine, Barassie Troon, and Prestwick: a veritable clutch of west coast communities with an allegiance to Glasgow.

Despite the Robert Burns theme to the day, the highlight was the time spent chatting and laughing but not forgetting the eating, with a friend who was mislaid for a number of years but whom we've found again.

Thank you Lesley for your West Coast cum Highland hospitality: His Lordship has declared the day to be absolutely wonderful, and that is high praise indeed.
Time to take a bow!