The work of writing

Saturday. The Royal Highland Hotel by the station in Inverness. The foyer/bar/café. It’s called the Art Gallery café. Three large computer-generated portraits on the landing above a central flight of stairs and some dark old masters along the walls (originals?) justify the name. I suppose. I wasn’t that impressed. I’ve retreated here to shelter from the showers and the shoppers. After four days on retreat in the quiet hills above Loch Ness, being back in busy city streets is a shock. The salad of herbed tempura vegetables and mixed leaves, a surprising offering in this locale, and the graciously appointed...