Western Skies

Plans for a sail up to the Bridges were washed out. The rain lashed down all morning. But McC the Elder fancied taking in the last day of some “Wildlife Photographer of the Year” exhibition at the museum. As did MrT so I tagged along. Nine quid! This better be good. Nine pence per photo. And actually, it really wasn’t half bad at all. 
But that left us in town at 1pm and if there are three people with less will power than us when it comes to declining the suggestion of a lunchtime pint, well, I’ve yet to meet them. And Sandy Bells was so close at hand. And there was even a live band which kicked off at 2pm. 
So, it was later than intended when I finally headed out up the river in that boat, searching for an anchorage. I just couldn’t find the deep water channel to the River Almond so headed over to the little anchorage at the west end of Inchcolm where I settled for the evening. Relaxing and blissful. Well, until I was awakened at 3:35. But by then that was another day.