Only a week late into Edinburgh...

I'm a busy man and not always the most organised, and so it shouldn't have come as a great surprise to discover that, on arrival in Edinburgh for the Bloggers Unconference on Friday night, it had taken place the previous weekend. Luckily, a full schedule of events was available to me, and I had already swapped blog comments with Jo Swinson before setting off, so my journey wasn't in vain.

Friday saw me on the 14.00 Aberdeen service from London King's Cross, bound for the Edinburgh Pentlands St Andrew's Day dinner, in the company of John Barrett and his wife Carol, where an excellent meal (game terrine, chicken stuffed with haggis, Lanark Blue cheese with oatcakes) was enlivened by an excellent speech from the guest for the evening. So that was a second element of the Unconference achieved...

Saturday opened with with a mince pie and mulled wine event for Edinburgh North and Leith, where I ran into the godfather of Scottish Lib Dem blogging, Stephen Glenn (the third element), before heading to a Christmas Fayre in Edinburgh West, where I paid £2 for a go on the 'water or wine' stall. The idea is that there is an array of sealed gift bags with bottles in. You pick one and it either has a bottle of wine in it, or a bottle of water. On the basis that you stick with your party colour, I picked a yellow one and was most gratified to find a bottle of sparking rose in mine. John Barrett, who had an unblemished record of winning bottles of water, took my advise and picked a gold bag. Sure enough, there was a bottle of wine in it.

By this point, we had met up with Mike Crockart, and I pointed out a yellow bag with white polka dots - I was beginning to suspect some subliminal Liberal Democrat bias by this point (does a 13,600 majority cause that?). And yes, when Mike picked it, there was a bottle of wine inside.

But, it was getting on, and our day wasn't finished. I did, however, have time for a haircut. It appears that I got a bit carried away though, and Ros is still slightly traumatised by the result. It is very short, I fear. The one disconcerting moment was when my barber took out a piece of wire with a lump on the end, set fire to it and announced that I shouldn't worry about the naked flame being held close to my ears. Apparently, this acts to singe the hairs on the ears, making it easier to remove them.

Next stop, Perth...