As it had been a while since I've been up to the Balerno end of the river and reasoning that Cramond/Silverknowes would be unpleasantly heaving on a sunny spring weekend it was to the former that we popped bus-wise this lunchtime in order to walk back along the relatively peaceful (and shadier) riverside path. Even in the few years for which I've been properly familiar with it the south-west bit of the path has had some significant blots stamped upon its pleasantness in recent years (though not quite as much as the bit through the city) with the destruction of much of the old mill, the lengthy diversion of the path whilst a bridge was repaired and the building of some unnecessarily ugly twat-housing just outside the bypass though hopefully the traffic noise from the bridge is a constant source of irritation to the residents. A few dog-walkers were about though they had left surprisingly little un-picked-up shite to avoid (though hardly any of them returned or offered polite speech-fragments compared to the dogless trudgers). There was also a brief moment of excitement when the gentle clopping from behind suddenly erupted into shouts and thundering as a girl lost control of her horse. Luckily we were at a bit where we could jump off the path and hide behind some trees in case she wasn't able to stop it in time though she was though we stayed well out of the way until they'd gone past (apologising poshly though seemingly sincerely) in case it happened again. Perhaps the horse had been stricken by the condition which sometimes strikes passing dogs where they develop a sudden need to attempt to lick my bare lower legs with their filthy dog tongues. We also passed a cyclist whom Nicky described as looking suspiciously at me. Plenty of the old people we passed stared oddly at me (probably the shorts again) but this one was not-old and the look reportedly (I didn't see it myself as I was looking at a fencepost) implied identification-suspicion.