Overcast, cold wind, forecast dodgy. Settling up the breakfast bill with the receptionist. She's from above the Arctic Circle and left her cold clothing behind when she came to Scotland. She can't find similar clothing in the gear shops here.
Excellent breakfast. The matron'd fusses like my Nanny. "I'd like the full Scottish breakfast," says I. "Porridge or cereal", says she. "No fry-up?" "Oh yes, that was just the starter." She then lists all I'll get, then there's the climber's extras... I'm in Gaeldom. Sod the feet and the weather. Life is good. I didn't have the heart to mention the marag dubh, it wasn't Charlie Barley's. I'm not a snob.