On Friday night I discovered what it was like to party in Ayr. I’ll start from the beginning... We had a nice dinner – on the veranda, relaxed and with a couple of glasses of wine. This was followed by music and the ubiquitous tossing of outfits around the room – girls having fun. By 11:30 we ventured down the stairs and click-clacked in our heels towards the car – en-route surprising the remaining dinner party members with our choice of attire. Were we really going out in Ayr? Dressed like that? Yes, and we won’t need jerseys, we’ll be inside where it’s warm! (And we’ll just conveniently forget the freezing dash back to the car at the end of the evening!) Waving good-bye we ventured forth into the night. To say some of the characters were less than salubrious would have been an understatement... the over-inebriated woman in the tight black dress with on-show pink bra could have been a walking advert for the AA – if she could walk. On arrival at the club we he

It's that first smell, the first lung-full - it may be halfway through the breathe that you notice it - but when you do, or more to the point when I do, the fresh perfumed air has me breathing deeper and expanding my lungs... lost in the airy moment, craving more of the somehow sweet air. I had one of these moments this evening. Walking along the drive I caught myself in the moment, revelling in the dappled leafy light, reflecting on the day and savouring each breath for as long as possible. Now some people may say that I should be used to that by now - being in the country and all. But perhaps this would be a good time to note that the country comes with it's own set of aromas. While I only have to contend with the diesel fumes for as long as I'm stuck behind a tractor, cows have replaced common-town-pollution for me. I'm sure Wikipedia will furnish you with all the specifics - I can give you the day-to-day: They wake you up in the morning - a friendly good moo-ning