No chickens on upper deck

Out for lunch with my nephew and his girlfriend at a new place in Glasgow that serves small plates of lovely Indian food. All in the style of a railway waiting room cafe, complete with funny signs that forbid all kinds of bad behaviour. As well as chickens in the wrong place.

Afterwards we went to Slaters for his birthday present - a new suit. I love the service there, which basically involves you doing nothing much at all as dark navy is suggested, and trousers of the right size are produced without even measuring. And perhaps sir would like a herringbone shirt also? If only buying women's clothes was so civilised.