A wee stroll
After walking for several 100 miles, we decided that a wee spot of dinner was called for. It's not just Mr Brown who is fond of The Loch Fyne Oyster Bar. There are branches of this fyne ( couldn't resist it) restaurant popping up all over the place, but we think the original is still the best. I decided to be brave and share a shellfish platter with Mr India (Note to Mr India - even though I know my own mind, and you kow me well enough to not even suggest that I don't, the next time I claim to know my own mind in respect of ordering shellfish platters, take your life in your hands and remind me that it's a bad idea). There's no getting away from it. Prawns and longoustine just remind me of a pink kind of cockroach. We don't eat creepycrawlies, so why do we eat creepy swimmies? HAving said that, I do like mussles, and I'm not going to begin to ttell you what they remind me of. The fish at the restaurant is lovely. So is the wine. I allowed myself a second glass, after the first one failed to set off my acid reflux. In addition to that, I finished the second Debbie Bliss sock, while Mr I finished the crab etc. Course, whether the waiting staff though I was mildly eccentric, or off my rocker, depends upon how much money they thought we had. That'll be completely off my rocker, then.