Small World

This globe, sitting incongruously on a table in my Edinburgh hotel room, gives a sense of just how small these British Isles are in the grand scheme of things.

Interesting train ride down from Inverness through the snowy Highland wastes, trees laden with frost, to a dull and icy Edinburgh. But my evening was lit up by a sellout crowd of 140 at the Edinburgh Central Library, where a reserve list of more than 50 waited in the foyer in the hope of no-shows. The event, superbly hosted by fellow crime writer Russel McLean, was great fun, with challenging questions from a lively audience.

Then on to dinner with old friend, Mike Russell (feorlean), before collapsing back in my hotel room in the company of my incongruous globe.

Tomorrow morning I have a formal signing at WH Smith's at the Gyle, before heading south for an event at Waterstones in Leeds.