I spent my last night in Scotland near Dumfries in a pleasant country hotel much enlivened by a Scottish wedding. I have never seen so many blue-white male legs in an evening. Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time and it's hard not to be happy at a wedding, even if the parties are strangers.
The journey there had been lent some dramatic tension by Speranza's electronic difficulties. She went into safe mode at one point as I was engaged in overtaking, which was as alarming as it was embarrassing. Those behind me must have been puzzled as to why I aborted the manoeuvre. Apart from that, all went well and I enjoyed watching the landscapes soften as the miles passed.
I had a pleasant stop for lunch at Martin Wishart's Michelin-starred establishment on the shores of Loch Lomond and regretted that I didn't have time to take the seaplane ride over the Loch on offer at his host hotel. I have always had a soft-spot for seaplanes, associating them with the boys' adventure books of my youth.
On Sunday morning after a 'full Scottish breakfast' that was only distinguishable from the 'full English' by a potato cake of some kind, I set off for the run South to England or rather, as I am visiting my parents, to Wales. It was a beautiful sunny day and Speranza produced no error messages in over 200 miles. It seems that whichever sensor is playing up has been sensitised to moisture, which may be useful data for my guys in London when it comes to fixing her.
I will now spend a couple of days visiting family before I head on home to London. My progress to date can be tracked here.
The Last Ditch by Tom Paine 
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