Not Norway or anywhere else. After spending a pleasant sunny day wandering around at the local horse trials, barbecuing various bits of dead animals, eating Culross ice cream and quaffing wine and cider it soon was time to capsize onto the (now bat free) couch and endure the maschionistic pleasures of Eurovision. Set in the decidedly dodgy location of Azerbaijan it's hard to say anything new about this multicoloured spectacle of tasteless torture - my stomach started to turn and my attention span fell drastically short of the mark. Pretty girls, pretty boys, grannies and the Hump swanning about, cartwheeling, caterwauling, cooking biscuits and occasionally singing. The final result was of no real interest to me so I accepted defeat to the bigger Maytime fatigue and inspired over eating at about eleven, a while before the final points haul was calculated. It turned out that within all the political, back slapping, Euro unfriendly and block voting strategies only four nations voted for this year's Olympic Host Country and the cradle of modern democracy, black pudding and pop music, the UK. Our new allies turn out to be Estonia, Ireland, Latvia and what was possibly a grudged single point from the good folks in modern Belgium. A diplomatic eye opener, an expected face slapping and the basis for a new foreign policy or two? At least we're not Norway.
Torro Rosso. Today full Euro envy faltered a little more when the Grand Prix fizzled out in Monaco and the rain began, meanwhile the sun was frazzling us here. The result made me think, “why don't Red Bull just make sports cars instead of expensive sugary juice?”
WTF. Scottish TV Channel Alba is resolutely broadcasting the Junior Cup final between Auchinleck Talbot and Shotts Bon Accord from the stadium in Livingstone. The commentary is in Gaelic – a very popular language here in the central belt. Shotts won 2 – 1.
In other news. Seen on a beach in Fife today, three roe deer, running east then (when they saw me and I tried to take their photo) running west.