Scotland, Scotland, Scotlaaaand !

Out the lovely cottage to get the South Lochs bus that runs up to the main road to meet the Stornoway bus. Except it never arrived - the driver missed the voicemail that he had a pickup at Marbhig and had to be chased up. He arrived apologetically and drove myself and Sue, who’d also been forgotten, all the way to Stornoway, blethering away. Where I had enough time to send postcards, have a coffee and cake in the arts centre, buy some black pudding and neck a pint in the Criterion Bar.
So, the trip home - 2pm ferry from Ullapool, 5pm bus to Inverness, and then another to Edinburgh. Home by 11pm, which wasn’t at all bad. Certainly quicker than by sailing boat.
And on the very quiet bus I watched the opening game of the 2024 Euros on my iPhone. Germany vs Scotland. Surely we’d have a chance if we kept the concentration and work-rate up. After the first German chance two minutes in I began to doubt that we were at the races. Two down after twenty minutes, and just before half time Porteous, yes, that Porteous, the one from Hibs, the one of whom the coach* said, “he’s a bombscare, that laddie”, a known red card specialist - attempted to break the German captain’s ankle and got himself sent off as well as conceding a penalty. Hard to come back from that. 
Still, bring on the Swiss, eh? 
Oh, and thanks for all the faves for yesterday. So unexpected! Shucks, what can I say. Really, you shouldn't have!



* guy next to me at Tynecastle - fellow Hearts season ticket holder