Down by the Jetty

A trip out of town and through west to meet the Q’s at their delightful country club come marina on the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond. So after a ‘square sausage’ roll served up on the New England style veranda, we set off on Norrie’s latest toy, a Quicksilver 705 pilot. And I can truthfully say, it’s very bloody quick. In no time at all we were at Inchmurrin for lunch, except that the low season has commenced and lunch was unavailable. Onward! Through an archipelago of islands (what else?) to Luss, where we tied up and went ashore to lunch. Peculiarly, small groups of persons of far eastern appearance gathered at the end of the small jetty to have their pictures taken with the boat, rather as one might with Greyfriars famous dog, Bobby. Most amusing when one gent climbed aboard to be photographed lounging on Norrie’s pristine white leatherette cockpit seating. Ach, we’re tolerant and welcoming people, though I suspect, N, ardent brexiteer, somehow hopes that ‘this sort of thing’ will soon be a thing of the past. Haw.
Home and out on the omnibus to a very enjoyable blether with the chums. And, heading home at 11:40pm, I found myself having to stand! Young people! Students apparently, heading into town to start partying at the beginning of the academic year. Wasn’t like that in my day. We had to pick our own magic mushrooms back then.