Waved goodbye to Django. Lift to the train to the airport. Awful flight up, 70mph winds in Glasgow necessitated aborted landing and diversion to Newcastle. Four hour coach trip back to Glasgow to be picked up by Mr H. at 10pm who had spent four hours window shopping. Nerves shattered. Considered that if it's still blowing dogs off chains on Monday I can catch the train home. Much needed cup of tea followed swiftly by bed.
Windy again! braved the seafront in Ayr for wind, spume and photo opportunities. Selected cafe for lunch which served over-priced toasties which we ate while watching hoardes of school children file past... and back with Cokes and MacDonalds. Drooled over books in Waterstones but escaped with only four.
A homebody day. Walked by the in-spate River Doon in misty drizzle, missed having a dog beside us. Back to the flat for tea, home-baked biscuits, novel-absorbing and job-application-proof-reading. In the evening back into Ayr for a live-music gig at Mr H's local pub.
A day out to the North! Drove past familiar yet normally distant regatta venues to catch the little red ferry to Dunoon. A reccy for the potential job including checking out rental cottages and the potential of Dunoon as a place to live. It got a positive score of supermarket, pharmacy and real shops. I drove the 'new' van so that Mr H could do the Looking Out of the Window bit. Lunch and awe-inspired gasps next to Loch Eck, more photo opportunities. Home on the 3.20 ferry and roast beef for dinner.
Woke to windy weather, but forecast said calm by late afternoon. Popped across the courtyard for a cuppa with Mr H's neighbour and half her family who were staying. A jovial gathering which mainly consisted of conversation about speed traps and driving. After lunch and packing departed for Silverburn shopping centre for more window and real shopping before being dropped at the airport. Goodbye Scotland for another time.
Uneventful flight home on a half-empty plane, to be met by my colleague who imparted all the office gossip on the way home.
Picked up Django from his 'grandparents', who had throroughly enjoyed his company. He is now snoring in his basket in the kitchen.
A Grand Weekend.