Well, the news is that he spent a very restless night in hospital last night, and tried to dischargwe himself. He saw demons on seveal occasions, and in the light is likely to be sectioned under the mental health act today. He is also to undergo several tests as to discover what could have caused all of this. (see yesterdays blog: The Shipping News).
We are in Montrose, on the granite coast on north-eastern Scotland. The town is not as grim as it first appears, and has an abundance of bars, pubs, 'carry-outs and charity shops. It is a town of stone built terraced houses with views to the Gampian mountains to the west and out to sea in the east. Montrose is about halway between Dundee to the south and Aberdeen to the north, and at one time was a thriving fishing port, but all along the north sea, the days of plenty are long gone.
The weather has taken a turn for the worse, and we are now under leaden skies and a typical British drizzle is in the air, light enough to be able to sea, but heavy enough to soak through clothes. At night, the air is thick with woodsmoke from homefires and the air in the bars now just thick with the Scottish brogue and no smoke as smoking now has to take place outside, and life is much more pleasant for the rest of us non-smokers for that.
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