Up early for the customary bacon sandwiches that seem to precede all our Scottish jaunts these days.  Then, after I throw some clothes in a bag, we're off.

I think I'm unique amongst my friends in that I enjoy the long journey up, it's one of my favourite aspects of the holiday.  But today the journey isn't quite so long, as we're spending the night with Bruce at his new flat in Edinburgh.

Upon entering the building, we were struck by the similarity to the stairwell in Shallow Grave, and half expected a torch to fall down the centre, or see a disgruntled and shunned Cameron passing us.  Thankfully, no such events occurred, and indeed the flat itself was more Swiss Family Robinson than Shallow Grave.

After some fish suppers in town, we went for an unintentionally long walk, during which we found ourselves in a somewhat insalubrious area of the city - tall, ugly tower-blocks dominated the skyline, surrounded by oppressive-looking floodlights and CCTV cameras.  To cap it all, there were huge banners stating seemingly obvious truths such as "Nobody deserves to feel scared in their own home."  That there was even a need for such signs seemed quite worrying.

Bruce's new flatmate was in when we returned - goes by the name of Kim, and is fit in both senses of the word.  Unfortunately, though, she insisted on watching You've Been Framed, so we were subjected to 25 minutes of people falling over and "cute" animals.  Beer was most definitely required at this time, and had to be accompanied by a few games of Risk.

Risk has been one of those few constants in life over the last few years.  It has been played at the start of term, the end of term, after exams, during holidays, in Scotland, Yorkshire, Nottingham, and London, whether we've been busy or had free time.  When you are tired of Risk, you are tired of life.

Bruce won four games in a row, each within a few moves.  Can you believe that?  Spawny git.

Stupid game, anyway.