I Must Down to the Seas Again

-to the lonely sea and the sky -

But no tall ship here, either in Portobello early this morning or North Queensferry at lunch time although you can just see a little yacht beyond the anchor.

We were so enamoured with the peace and tranquility in the town under the north end of the Forth rail bridge when we went there last week, that we booked a lunch in 'The Wee Restaurant' for today.

And very nice it was too: plump Shetland mussels with bacon and pine nuts in a creamy sauce. Such is my dedication to fighting the flab, that one course and a coffee was the order of the day.

Now back home I'm multitasking by blipping and watching The Tour at the same time.
I've just seen a car nudging two cyclists travelling at speed clean off their bikes, sending them flying into the air and through a barbed wire fence. It takes macho cyclists, Juan Antonio Fletcha and Johnny Hoogerland, to get back on their bikes, ripped and bleeding and continue.
Compare that to footballers who fall to the ground feigning agony at the slightest knock and you know where my sympathies lie.