Pavlov’s Dog

I felt rather like Pavlov’s Dog this morning when I found myself on the prom at Porty, seeing the sea and immediately wanting to be in it. But I was there without my swimming gear en route to meet Wendy Selkie and her Edinburgh family for lunch at the Beach House. The water looked so very inviting, calm and high tide, but so did the Beach House even if we did have to queue for seats. 
We had a very convivial meal with entertainment from Eva who knows how to make a mini sausage roll last in various states of degeneration  for the whole lunch.

I braved the #26 and #27 buses to get home  and marvelled at the organised  bedlam in each. Buggies, walking frames, dogs, rucksacks and a general overload of people makes an Edinburgh bus journey feel like something out of the third world. At least there was no basket of hens aboard or a piglet on a string. I still haven’t understood why the powers that be stopped the #45 bus  from plying its trade through Porty to Joppa and Eastfield and instead sending it to its depot just before it gets to where so many people want to go. 

It’s been another glorious autumn day and warm enough for me to wear a summer jacket rather than my winter coat. The people crowding the beach thought so too, wearing light summer clothing.