Cigs - An Apology

Having spent time and effort planning the most likely places on Scotland's highways to seek Cigs, it turns out that the 313.8 miles were in vain. I should have just stayed in bed. No really, I should.

After a Monday at work (zzzzzzz) I arranged to meet Magi for a beer or three at the Auld Hoose; a most enjoyable evening it was too apart from the little fucker that whipped the front light off my bike.

Prior to meeting Magi I'd spent the hour from work having a quick potter about the Southside just to make sure there were no last lingering lost Cigs - but no. Nothing. Not a one. 

So I cycled home (carefully) with only the back light, and got home, made a brew and quickly booted up the laptop and got into bed. 

And there it was. On Facebook group Porty Friends, someone had posted a photo of a couple of Cigs tags at the bottom of Figgate Lane. So all I really needed to do was spend my time surfing the net and not hurtling around the highways and byways of Scotland...

Cigs moves in mysterious ways.

With thanks to anth for posting the link to me