I have made it to the B&B. In deepest darkest Fife. In the dark. Without a map or GPS. I actually drove straight to it, no wrong turns. Did I mention it was dark? It's nice to know the sense of direction/detection that helped me to drive the band's van to gigs (I could always find the venue) way back when still works.
And so to bed.
The Inn of Infinite Sadness, or alternatively, Smudge and Hobbes' Traumatising Transcendental Transatlantic Trip. Being the adventures of two very large, unwillingly peripatetic, half-Bengal cats and their owner (of rather similar description) as they prepare to leave the North American continent in search of a new life in their (the cats, not the owner) ancestral homeland of Aneda. Sigh, what I won't do for a decent cup of tea.
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