Coffin Road

It was good to catch up with Peter May again this morning at the  Gyle Centre where he was signing copies of his latest book, Coffin Road.
Set in Harris in the Hebrides I am looking forward to reading descriptions of places His Lordship and I knew when we camped there two years ago, but without seeing anything more gruesome than a road kill rabbit.

For someone with all these crime fiction novels to his name, Peter May is extremely genial and unthreatening. If his day job ever dries up in the future, he would make a wonderful Father Christmas, all twinkly eyes and white beard. (When I write this, I am banking on his having little time to scrutinise Blipfoto at the moment while on the current  book tour round Britain.)

It was certainly a bus tour round the houses for us on the no 35 bus to the Gyle ,and although technically door to door the journey takes in the highs and lows of Edinburgh Living, passing Saughton prison on one hand and the glass empire of the Royal Bank of Scotland on the other, with Paolozzi's giant Wealth of Nations Statue thrown in for good measure.

I have added yet another Dower House Sunrise, one which was fleetingly beautiful but issuing a sharp warning to the shepherds