Monday, October 13, 2008


The scottish city with character and a haunted past.
Past the whisky!

The castle and Sarah
Enjoying the coffee and biscuits before a nice big breakfast
Belen in the cemetary looking for ghosts
In ode to Scott, through an allyway

Ahhh Sunday

It was a perfect weathered Sunday that had the warmth of a London summer with the colours of fall, burnt orange and red leaves clinging to the pavement. With nothing to do but avoid cleaning house, Belen and I decided to go for an afternoon walk. It was my goal to get her to stroll all the way to my work so I could tentatively measure the time it would take to walk there a few days a week and because of the day’s glow she accepted. I was envious as I walked down the lanes of Islington looking at various town homes and Victorians. We stopped at various gastro pubs in neighbourhoods that we agreed we would love to live in. The Duchess of Kent was so inviting with its clean and shiny bar, Dali portraits, and fat old sofa, we had to pause for a few hours. As we drank our pints we enjoyed the left Sunday Times and laughed over the Brits love of all things American (it’s true!) and Julie Walters (think Mama Mia and Calendar girls). On our way home, after a few glasses of wine, I sighed as I thought, this is why I love London so, with Sunday days that are quintessentially a city Sunday
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