But Newburgh was not a particularly inspiring ending - attractive enough in the solid self-sufficient way of somewhere that grew up as its own focus, and with some nice old stonework along the river, but although I had carefully checked that there was a pub that did food, knowing what small towns are like, it turned out to have decided that from 31st March it would only do lunches, and the other pub was full of people playing bingo, so I couldn't find out if they had any reasonable beer.
(When I got there, I saw a bus waiting, and went to check with the driver that there was still one an hour later, although I was sure there was. "You want to go to Edinburgh?", he said. "From here??")
But I am exhausted - not just in my legs, although they were fairly sore yesterday and are still a bit stiff today, but because I got up at 7 on Saturday to go to Fife and got back at nearly 11 at night, and then got up again at quarter to 7 to go up Blackford Hill with tigger_boing and MM and the Barclays church folks.*
And then I bought 6 pairs of socks (and had to buy a packet of Kendal mint cake to get them for half price), and had a bath, and wrote two blog posts (I have never been ahead of myself before), and made biscuits in the shape of the backs of bunnies, with marshmallow tails and small biscuit feet, and failed to go to bed early, and I was at work today and none of the people I needed to speak to were, and here we are.
*(I've never been at a call and response kind of service before, and found it very odd, but I only disgraced myself slightly, despite wondering very much what God's left hand was doing - I was whispering to MM that I didn't know how to give a sign of peace, which apparently I had to do at the end, and her sister (visiting from America, and confusingly also MM) made me a forwards V sign, which was too much for me!)