It was a beautiful day yesterday so I wandered about the gardens for a while then popped into the National Gallery for a coffee and a peep at some very imaginative work done by SQA Art and Design students. I suppose that's what we called Higher Art in my day but I don't remember seeing such creativity at KHS. Maybe at the time I couldn't see past Tam Gourdie's italic handwriting obsession.

There is a William Blake exhibition on as well and I found that I was just too late to get a seat to hear the very imaginative Alasdair Gray talking about him and reading some of Blake's verse to boot. The spoilsport health and safety bogey forbade me to sit in the aisle so I left muttering incantations involving up, yours and Jimmy.

Later in the day I meandered into a pub and had a very satisfying glass of IPA; what a splendid contrast to the insipid and gassy French lager that has been my post golf tipple all summer. You have to give them full marks for vino but a great big zero for beer.

Spanish beer is no better than French and on the evidence below you'd have to give the golf resort owning Spaniards a pretty low score for their language skills as well.

The group now running Les Dryades hope to make a bob or two by building houses around the course and have produced a flashy brochure extolling the project. However its title isn't quite right in either French or English and the inside is often worse.

Now Grupo Balboa is not a very big organisation so maybe you can understand their skimping on translation costs; not forgive of course but understand.

On the other hand FIAT could surely have spared a copper to have my car's handbook given the once over by a native English speaker. It is riddled with nonsense such as "These dusts are harmless and is not the beginning of a fire; then the unfold cushion surface and the car interiors can be covered by a dusty remains;"

I expect that when it is sung in Italian it sounds wonderful.