A day of travelling, ostensibly.  We recovered from our hangovers too late to do much bar getting some chips from Fort Bill and browsing a few shops (my friends went to Nevisport whereas I skulked off to Woolworths to pick up a few "3 for £20" CDs - Velvet Underground, Verve, and Nirvana, for the record).  The journey back was long and exacerbated somewhat by the need to drop Bruce off in Edinburgh.  Also, why are there no "real" services on the A1 between Edinburgh and Newcastle?  That's just crying out for a 24-hour McDonald's.  By the time we reached the BK in Washington I was starving, and willing to pay the £2.88 for a Chicken Royale.

I drove the Volvo 340 the 125 miles back from Washington, and was suprised at how "spongy and wallowy" it was to control.  They seem so hard from the outside.  Made a change from my little Fiesta.  Back to mine by 11pm, and just time to catch a few adverts:

Rich: "Do you reckon buying a Peugeot 306 really gets you a better lovelife?"

Me: "I dunno, but it can't hurt to try..."