...Ermmm...

Couldn't think of a title for this. Stumped I was.

At the end of a hunner mile an hour day you can't beat a bit of dangling your feet off of the dock of the bay, watching the clouds and the water scud by and listening to swooping sea birds above the gently lapping waves of the Forth on the old harbour supports, without another person in sight. The smell of slowly fermenting shite wafting in on the breeze from the nearby sewage treatment works was a bit of a mood killer though.