A morning of susprising warmth. I had the jacket off after visit #1 and it stayed off until I got home around 10 pm.

In between, I had a gentle potter around Canonmills and then onto Leith; helped immeasurably by careful route planning (I had 2 x 2 lots in the same building, so there was time saved on travelling - all of which means I have more time between visits to prowl and potter)

Qupi for coffee and negotiated an exhibition of photos there later in the year; now to pick 12 photos for the job. 

Up to meet her and her friend at lunchtime; we wandered through the madding crowds of the High Street and the parliament; and as they returned to their veal crates, I went for a look at photos and then out along the canal to Polwarth and then finally off home to write up stuff for an hour or so.

That done, I grabbed some pearl barley and off up the hill to hers; we had a snatched couple of hours with plaice and chipotle on a bed of burned rice and the aforementioned pearl barley with added toasted cashews and various seeds; spinach too. Very nutty and crunchy and surprisingly ace.

Ahead of the return of no wait you didn't say G, I exited and spent an hour chatting to Paul as he packed up before heading off home. 

A bemusing encounter with a taxi driver ensued.
As I descended Dundas St, I followed a private hire; who stopped at every single red light going down the hill, but made sure he plonked himself in all the advanced cycle points. 

At the fourth one I drew alongside him and he wound down the passanger window and asked what the hell I thought I was doing. I replied I was waiting at a red in an ACP; what the hell was he - as a taxi - doing in an ACP?

He huffed and then proceeded to accuse me of breaking the speed limit (it's a 20mph section)
I replied 1. I followed you 2. I have no speedo as you well know. 3. So if I followed you and I broke the speed limit, then you did too. 4. You're a professional driver and you've admitted you knew you were breaking the speed limit. 5. And now you want to start a fight with me about something you've done yourself as a way of getting out of starting another fight where I am also doing no wrong...! 
He wound up his window, tooted his horn in disgust and disappeared off down Henderson Row. Eejit....

Home to watch - yup - bloody cyclists in the Vuelta.

Quartermile is dead;* long live Quartermile


*for now