But, then again . . . . .

By TrikinDave

The Bass Rock.

Having collected some Linus quilts from Dunbar (why else would we be there?) we popped along to Belhaven beach to let Merlin go for a little wander; he didn’t go more than a hundred yards but still managed to get lost. Anyone would think we wanted to lose him.
 
We had an itinerary, as usual, with the first stop being Haddington for lunch at The Loft. I’ve been there before and thought it passed muster, but not today. As I occasionally do, I went for an experimental dish; it turned out to be a sort of Spanish omelette but made as a tray bake, an interesting concept that I could use at home though its most novel feature was that portions of it were piping hot while the rest of it was straight out of the refrigerator. The coffee was, at least an even temperature but seemed to have been heated in the same fridge.

Today was the 700th anniversary of The Bruce granting the town its Burgh charter and we had planned to join the burghers inn painting the town red. At the first advertised venue we visited we interrupted a game of bingo, unfortunately we’d arrived about 6 hours early, now isn’t that the story of my life. We moved on to the library where a nice young lady was re-enacting The Bruce’s life story with a bunch of primary school kids; TB seemed more intent on killing the spider with his sword than actually learning the moral of the story, nevertheless, it was great fun and, when she had had five minutes for sanitary relief, the lady was ready to repeat the performance with a fresh bunch of kids. It seemed she performed every hour on the hour. Having expressed our appreciation we went on to Saint Mary’s Church where we caught the last quarter of a talk about TB with special reference to the reconstruction of his face by a forensic specialist.

Finally, we stopped off at our old Bolshevik friend’s for a cup of tea, some toast and a chat. She’s the salt of the earth whose favourite expression used to be, “Come the revolution . . . .” 
We wonder if it ever will.

The Blip is of the Bass Rock from the beach while the extra is of the 700 year old charter; I was reprimanded for using flash as it might damage the relic. I did apologise for not having seen the notice and refrained from suggesting that having it sitting in the sun all day was perhaps a little irresponsible. Unfortunately the slap on the wrist was before I'd actually Blipped the charter, and I felt honour bound not to annoy anybody.

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