I had stripped down to my underwear in the charity shop, but the staff couldn’t care less – presumably because I was their best customer. However, it was getting late, and at 9pm TPR was anxious that we might miss the 9:30pm bus south. I shooed him away and said that I would soon catch up with him at the bus station.

By 9:15pm I was dressed again and heading down the street. My only guarantee on reaching TPR on time would be to hop onto a passing bus or hail a taxi, but no such vehicle passed me.

Then I remembered that I had my bike! As I climbed up the single track roads into the sunny Pentland Hills and enjoyed the scenery, I completely forgot our rendezvous at the bus station.