Monkey Business

A Sunday in the Botanic Gardens, wherein resides King Robert of Sicily who lost all his wealth and could only hang around with a monkey. A bit like Keith Harris, really.

I've always loved the Botanics, but on a hot and humid day like today, the glasshouses can get a bit steamy. The gardens seemed to be full of tourists as well, and there weren't many people lounging on the grass thanks to all the rain we've had this week turning it slightly soggy.

What started as a lovely day turned sour as the rain pattered down. We sought shelter in the Kibble Palace where Baby Fitz amused himself by shaking hands with the statues, in particular the Elf.

I have no idea what he makes of them. He has a strange little move he does when he says the word, as he does for "sculpture". We finally figured out where the latter comes from - he first did it in Kelvingrove to imitate the big Elvis at the top of the stairs, pointing at the sky like Usain Bolt.