BUXTON & EDINBURGH. The Writing’s On The Wall.

One of the things I like to discover on my wanderings are the old, painted wall advertisements.

One of the things I like to discover on my wanderings are the old, painted wall advertisements.

The days are now cutting them selves back as the nights start to draw themselves in early.

The day gathers itself in with an eiderdown of clouds to make way for the night and the spars and masts of the boats moored in the harbour are silhouetted against the darkening sky.

Right, most of my tasks completed and the day rumbles on. Food next. Food eaten, coffee drunk, back out into a day that’s bright but has winter’s cool kiss about it. Jobs nearly done, time to head towards the station.

A busy morning unfolds itself on a freshly minted Thursday. Things to do, places to go, cake to eat and coffee to drink. You get the drift The first stop is Liverpool, then onward.

For many years now I’ve had breaks of some kind in Scotland.