St Andrews Bay in the grey

Mr hazelh and I planned to take a walk along the sands this morning, but the weather was so vile that this is as close as we came to the shore: I took this shot from the esplanade rather than the beach. Strangely, the photograph doesn't really capture the ferocity of the wind and rain.

Fortunately all our afternoon exploits were indoors. We picked Liz and Tony up from the Fairmont, then drove down the coast to Anstruther to meet Petrina and Stephen for the delicious tasting menu lunch at The Cellar.

As is always the case when the three former school friends meet up with their husbands, we had a marvellous time. We discussed cars (specifically Bentleys), ageing parents, memories (or not) of the Protect and Survive campaign of the 1970s and 80s, the Official Secrets Act, world travel (Italy, Hebrides, Vietnam, Cambodia - and whether we would cough up £50,000 for a 142-day world cruise), sleep, Brexit (but only a little), minor ailments, the job market for those in their twenties, restaurants and hotels in County Durham, World War II, retirement, Oxford, Cambridge, Karl Popper, Elena Ferrante, nephews and nieces, Scottish independence, a possible trip to the Lake District, and predicted themes of the hazelh Christmas newsletter.

Afterwards we retraced our journey back to St Andrews, dropped Liz and Tony off at the Fairmont, then returned to our own hotel for an early night.

Exercise today: none.