Bruises gone. Replaced by sand rash. Oh well. A gang of us went off to the beach in C's car yesterday to get away from Edinburgh. I use the term "beach" lightly as when we got there it was high tide, there was the creepiest fun fair I've ever seen and it was cold and grey. Still there was cavorting and general japery so that's alright then. I went swimming for some reason - I hate the sea. Why? We headed off to get food afterwards; being Sunday natch every pub was down to elderly toasted sandwiches so we had a bizarre meal in what appeared to be a converted aeroplane called Bar None. London! Paris! Milan! Kirkcaldy! Hum. Meals were two for one for some unknown reason - we figure C or P chatted up the waitress - so we dined like kings on Chateaubriand and King prawn thermidore. As you do when you're poor, clearly. It was really good to head out of the city for a bit, I know what we're doing isn't exactly taxing but it's still knackering and just to see some greenery without a flyer being shoved in your face was ace. Hope of the states tonight, should be interesting.