On Saturday, even in the midst of the megalopolis, the whiff of the briny sea was making my nostrils twitch. I pulled on my horsehair country garments ( my skin doesn't take well to tweed and wool, I'd have been a scabrous pariah in the olden days) and followed the scent of salt and whelks* along a ribbon of concrete until it unfurled a village still set in the 16th century. Culross is a place where time has stood still. Don't be like me, a complete townie and pronounce that as CuLross, it's actually pronounced Cooris. Raising a brow at the swift deletion of the letter L? Me too. There's nowt so queer as folks.
It may be a16th century vilage but the local shop sells gluten free cereal.
My 4 years of Ancient Greek has fluttered up into the ether, I have some very erudite readers, anyone?
Don't think I haven't already perused the offerings at Strutt & Parker; oh yes I have, I'm all for making early retirement plans.
*periwinkles, I could never eat them either or wear wool or tweed, I wouldn't have lasted long in the olden days.