More smoke and mirrors.

Yesterday cleared up nicely and in fact it was a lovely sunset. The folk whose night it was at the Tattoo would have been happy - it can't be nice sitting in the rain for several hours thinking that you could see it all in comfort on TV in another week or so anyway.

After the pictures we went to Wagamama for an early tea. Always good there. AND they don't have muzak. Just the music of the chefs banging and clanging away on their woks, sounding a bit like those Stomp chaps who were in the Games Opening Ceremony.

As I was waiting for the bus, I spotted a rather rotund elderly gentleman in a smart black suit and fedora hat, and his suit was covered in colourful butterflies. Not real ones, embroidered on! It looked amazing. I had my camera out, and was about to go and ask if I could take his photo, when my bus came, and they're rather infrequent, so I chose the bus. He might have said 'No'.

I had cramp in my calves all night. Thought I was coming down with some new debilitating condition that hadn't been documented yet. But in the morning I realised it was because of my half hour on the cross trainer yesterday morning! It wasn't cramp, it was just pain.

Into town this morning to see what they've done in George Street. It's great. Looked in at Jaimie's new Italian restaurant in the Assembly Rooms. That looks amazing too, absolutely buzzing, but no... yes... Whitney Houston (or her ilk) screeching in the background. Why? Is the sound of a packed restaurant not enough?

We met up with young Leo and his mum in My Club. Leo thought it was marvellous. But it wasn't a restful meeting as he wreaked a wee bit of havoc. I don't think they'll let him join.

The High Street was the usual mayhem, probably even more so, it being a Saturday. Hard to pick one blip, as you could probably just point your camera in any direction and get an odd sight. In fact, I've changed my selection several times while writing this, but I've plumped for the statue. I admire these young folk who think of things to be while doing nothing but standing still. Very still - moving only when someone puts money in your hat. I caught her as she thanked someone. It must be quite tiring. Hope they get a decent amount of money for their day's labour activity filling in time till the pub opens.

There was a chap in a blue cape, and he seemed to be sitting in mid air, holding a stick. Clever, but he'd have to set it up when nobody was around, and then would have to sit there all day until everyone left, otherwise he'd be sprung.

But I worked out how he did it. Mirrors. And some smoke. Obviously.