Yummy Easter Sunday. Finally the contents of the huge, beguiling bags that Heths had been seen to usher into and out of the car, could be revealed. Lovely little things that you can make a real mess with.
Delicious Haighs egg and chocolates and, non credibile,
the other Harper Lee book, hot off the press. Of course, while we were thus entertained, Heths had to get her own breakfast.
Easter Bunny or Playboy Bunny? The astute observer will also notice the empty wine bottles accumulating from our 'at home' meals. Like this one.
That girl packs a mean salad
eaten, on this occasion, in our courtyard garden. There were more walks,
more running around after trains,
visits to the fabulous bookshop, deconstructed eccles, visits to the lovely dog and man who makes furniture at Dragon Dog. Port Elliot never fails.
And what is this piteous sight?
Our last day and waiting for the pub to open. Well, the restaurant at the pub. We came to love this hotel.
And it came to love us. We now have our own table there. Conveniently situated behind the Railway Station, we dropped in for bubbly / beer and seafood lunches as the occasion demanded.
Lovely, lovely Easter.