In Fraserburgh

I love Scotland and I love all the people I've met who live there. I remember when I was working at RBSG in Edinburgh, I used to sometimes meet my boss, Cameron, for a drink in a pub called Bennetts and he always used to tell me to wait outside for him. I never did and in all the time I was there, no one was ever mean to me because I was English (even if they did take the piss out of me for my RP, which is fair enough). I've found everyone I worked with and met in Scotland to be charming and, almost without exception, blessed with a sense of humour.  

I'm not an idiot; I know that not everyone in Scotland is perfect, some won't be anywhere close, but all the same, I've never lived anywhere else that has such a great... vibe. When the unabashed, joyfully left-wing SNP were pretty much unanimously elected in the last election, while the rest of the UK voted for the bunch of privileged, mendacious, self-serving Tories who are now steadily wrecking the UK, I could have cried; I was so moved. What a great country. At work we've talked about moving to Scotland if Brexit goes ahead (as it appears it will) and if Scotland stays in the EU. Really, why wouldn't we?

This weekend, the Minx and I have come up to Fraserburgh, for three nights, which I've been looking forward to for ages. We're staying in a converted railway carriage in the middle of a field a few miles from the nearest town. It has an "eco-shower", which we'll try tomorrow morning, and an "eco-loo", which is on the same lines as the ones we've used at festivals and in Kent, this summer.

Today, we spent most of the daylight hours driving north, which I thoroughly enjoyed, both for the stretches when I was behind the wheel and for those when I was simply looking out of the window. What a gorgeous place this is.