Didn’t get up for an early morning stroll which we had planned because the bed was so comfortable that we slept in. A good breakfast for a change. The weather is still sunny but cold, with intermittent showers. The townies can’t get over Ruth’s knee socks so she has stopped wearing them. There are mostly old folks vacationing here, no Americans visible. Quite a large fishing industry here, the sky is full of gulls hovering about the boats tied up at the pier. Steamer trips returning from Iona. All the Brit types are represented. Old men and young women with kids in shorts and Eton suits, dads in tweedy caps and plus-fours. (I dare not say knickers because that’s what women’s underpants are called.) The moms are homely and devoid of make-up, just well-scrubbed. Except for Ruth I haven’t seen a good looking female since we left Ireland. Lots of big English cars in Oban, not everyone is hurting. Had dinner at the Columbia Hotel where the well-kept Brits stare at Ruth in a rude manner. We must be an oddity, they can’t be this oafish all the time. Having a few pounds hasn’t done much for their manners, or their appearance.
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