Monday surf

It's all been a bit quiet on the exercise front, with loads of work on, including freelance work so that I've been coming home from one computer and sitting down at another. I was asked at the last minute to attend a conference in Newport last week, which raised my hopes of a sneaky off-conference surf trip to the Gower. But it was not to be and I was forced to listed to investment experts tell me that when my fixed price mortgage ends next year I'll have to pay loads more money instead.

We were supposed to go to a wedding on Saturday - a friend of Al's - so got all poshed up in dress and kilt and taxied to the Balmoral (the hotel, not the castle) for 3pm. There was no sign of a wedding so we asked at reception, where the receptionist managed to refrain from laughing in our faces as she pointed out the the invitation Al was clutching said the 16th. Not only the wrong week, but the wrong day of the week, too! Al claims this is because they changed the date having reserved the 8th ages ago. Anyway, we took our posh outfits to the Scotsman for a cocktail before walking home. Al bemoaned having spent £5 on a taxi. I bemoaned having spent £13 on two bloody marys (maries?).

So I suppose I could have spent the unexpectedly free weekend doing sporty type stuff. Instead we went to a friend's barbeque (having by now changed out of our nice clothes, and with Al sporting my fleece with his dress shoes) and then to the cinema. We saw Run, Fatboy, Run, which I rather liked, predictable as it was. Al thought it was cheesy, which was true. I thought it could have had more running and less overt Nike sponsorship in it. Anyway, it inspired me enough to get off my arse and go for a walk on Sunday, after I took Hilary shopping for sensible walking clothes for Skye. I went round Arthur's Seat where there was a scenic burnt out car. How pleasant.

Real exercise finally kicked in on Monday, when I got my first surf for ages. Morag graciously accepted my apologies for aquafit and Al and I headed down the coast to Coldingham. Surf was small but regular and we were joined by Al's friend Ben and his girlfriend Sue, who I kept calling Sam by mistake. Ben was in his kayak and caught loads more waves than us. The water was incredibly warm - I wore my thin boots and no hood. At one point three flares went off to the south - probably a fishing boat with engine trouble heading for the cliffs. It was a good night for wildlife too, with a massive frenzy of gulls divebombing not far out. There must have been a school of fish being eaten from both above and below out there. And the closest seal I've ever seen, staring at us with bold curiosity.

Eventually I thought there was something wrong with my contact lenses because I couldn't see, before realising that it was just getting really dark so we had to come in. It was only 9pm but all the chip shops had closed - disaster! We were back in Edinburgh and it was 11pm before I got my fix.

We've had a warm few days and it's tempting to herald an indian summer, especially after the complete lack of an actual summer. But this morning I left home to the distinctive Edinburgh smell of hops. I know they must brew all year round but for some reason this scent always seems very autumnal too me. Let's hope autumn at least provides some warmer water surfing. I've lent my board to a guy a work who may buy it for his daughter, so I'm off to perve over possible replacements...