The bike ride on Friday was sensational.
Little passenger ferry across a big wide river, ride for something like 60 miles through all sorts of terrain, forests, loch sides, rain, sun, hills, dales, all of that, scrambled egg on toast at a random place beside a loch and then another ferry and then another one.
I'll never forget it.
Sunday was the same for different reasons: cycling with one of my oldest friends and one of my newest in the Scottish countryside, challenging weather, great company, and good cakes. Again, unforgettable.
Where were you that weekend in August?
That's where I was.
All I have to remember is a ferry ticket from the shortest ferry ride you could ever take, which costs £1.40 and a laminated number about the size of a credit card from the bike ride I did on Sunday.
These little relics, these little museum pieces I collect, are priceless.
They go on my yearly notice board.
These two go on it today next to my Glastonbury tickets, my Outlaw wristband, the thank you cards, the notes from my wife, the VIP wristbands from the Euros, and any number of other little things that have happened this year.
The memories they're priceless; what else would I rather have? Nothing.
Blog Post Number - 3906