We went down to a family wedding for the Easter Saturday, which was pretty low key but that was great because I got to talk to absolutely everyone who was there. Sunday, we met this retired couple at breakfast in the B&B and ended up being an hour and a half late setting off, just because the guy was absolutely, charmingly mental. Not only did he make me feel much better about being a gigantic wierdo myself, but I can’t wait to get old and spend my days trolling car salesmen too, now.
We did a wee circuit of the coast, armed with an OS map (in a car. If anyone does this on foot, or by bike, I salute you) on the way to Whithorn, (where my partner apparently dug up human bones with the school, many years ago. Wow, our school never did anything like that). We found an iron-age hill-fort, two lumps we thought were cursuses (cursi?) but turned out to be mottes, a couple of standing stones, a monument to Tarka the Otter, St Finian’s Well, and the Torhouse Stone Circle.
I am many things but a good photographer isn’t one of them, so here are the two least mediocre shots, of Torhouse Stone Circle and an Anglo-Celtic Cross near Thornhill, respectively.