Croft Moraig

We've left the Crannog Centre, it being time to continue on toward Edinburgh. We'd gone perhaps 5 miles when I'm instructed to turn around. Marita Beth or Ginger had espied this unassuming, yet beautiful circle of stones set in a field. We believe it to be Croft Moraig (or Mary's Croft), but saw no signs to confirm that presumption. As you can see we were one side of a barbed-wired fence while the stones set serenely the other side. We stayed no longer than was necessary to capture a few photos. However, in looking back, I'd have stayed longer in an attempt to drink in its ancient story. Well, the self-destruction is nearly complete. A must win game was played for a draw when in the end, Luis Garcia managed to bollocks-rock us with a toe-poke securing all three points for the home side. Yet again, Gilberto proved he can't pass and is certainly not value for money. Sadly, the same can be said of Pires & Ljungberg. However, my man of the match had to be Lehman, the man was brilliant between the sticks and kept us in the game for a long time. In fact, it truly did look to end all square, but football's a funny ol' game and it really only does take a second to dash all dreams to hell. The addage goes, "you can have many friends, many lovers even many wives (for some), but you can only have one football team". I'm here to tell you that is so very wise & true. For were it not, Arsenal would be exchanged for a younger, prettier mistress. However, I'm a Gooner and always will be, no matter how much shite they are on the pitch. Come on Arse, stop with the antics and let's play some footy for real. Oh yeah. Thanks for reading. Go click on some of the ads and help me pay for the next trip overseas. :-) Wastrel On! (Listening to: Where the Streets Have No Name (Can't Take My Eyes Off of You) by the Pet Shop Boys)