Room with a view

Nous demandons: all British supermarkets to clearly label baguettes with the words “warning: does not actually taste like French bread” (http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m000183j)

Claire bakes supermarket facsimiles of French pastries for breakfast. Our guests rise, take a wander. Isaac enjoys holding the snake and feeding the chooks. And then they’re off, back to the coastal micro-environment of Coldingham.

I dismantle the bike fuel tap again. I don’t know why, but it surprises me that the gasket, new just a week or so ago, has stretched and can’t be reused. So, reassembly is postponed.

We drop Megan at Maybury and head for Kinghorn. There is much carrying of Claire’s stuff (up three flights) and rubbish/carpets (down three flights). Then there is the perennial test of fitting blinds - which we fail.

The first night’s sleep in the flat: the sound of waves - nothing else - and, from the window the wide expanse of the Firth of Forth.