To Wigtown, the Book Town. A fine sunny day and a pleasant drive along the side of Wigtown Bay. We used the old municipal buildings for their comfort stop facilities and I had a look around in their small museum. I had not realised that when the union of Scotland and Britain came into force it necessitated the loss of the old Scottish measures and the
introduction of new British imperial measures, and the Wigotown set, cast in extremely solid bronze, is on show.
The Old Bank Bookshop is a place of severe temptation and I am sorry to say we fell into it head first to the tune of £100. The lady assistant and I fell into conversation on the subject of ears. I with my misbehaving hearing aid pressed into the side of my head, and she about her sufferings from tinnitus. I am fortunate in that I only suffer from tinnitus in a mild and sporadic way and she made me realise what a curse tinnitus can be and is to those who experience it all day and every day.
We ate in the Craft Hotel. A very nice dish of chicken curry with mango chutney supplied on request, and a good piece of naan bread. The experience was somewhat marred by the fact that in the gent’s toilet the lavatory cistern was dismantled and non-functional, but they saved themselves by having a disabled toilet, which was not at all disabled, but in good working order.
We drove home without further shopping stops, playing “dodge the potholes” much to the alarm of following drivers I suspect. Isolated potholes are now forming them selves into archipelagoes so that no matter what the driver does, both front wheels fall into the pit giving both car and passengers a bruising. Such are the fruits of “austerity”.