My new flat was somewhere near Arthur’s Seat in a run-down corner of Edinburgh. I struggled to cycle there due to forgetting the route and thus turned a short ride into a mammoth journey.
When I saw a coach come along the single track road I flagged it down and climbed aboard with my bike. The other passengers included most of my immediate family. We disembarked beside a what looked like a snow-covered hill. It was, in fact, an iced hill, decorated to look like a wedding cake.
At the top we found a empty formal dining room partially laid out for a 60th wedding anniversary dinner. It was impossible to tell whether the event was planned or had already taken place, but I was certain that we were not on the invitation list. It took some effort to remove my family from the venue, especially PGH and SEH who thought that they could help themselves to the small amount of food and drink on offer.