Oh. My. God.

It is 10pm, and we have been driving around, trying to find a place to stay, since shortly after 6:30. 

All I wanted was to go to Culloden Moor.  See the battlefield.  Stay the night.  But nooooooo, there's a big marathon in Inverness, and EVERYTHING, and I mean EVERYTHING, is booked solid.  We are about 40 miles away in a 4-star (!!$$!!) hotel that had the only room left for probably a hundred miles.  We're down in the servant's quarters of an old manor house.  I think--I hope--we have the cheapest room in the place.

Tomorrow morning first thing the job is to find a less expensive B&B closer to the battlefield.  But for right now I have a splitting headache, and am downing a Tylenol with a glass of white wine (yeah, yeah, I know it's wrong. Sue me) and I'm going to hit the sack pretty soon.  Will have to download pictures later.  Too tired tonight. 

the first marathon runner I see out on the roads tomorrow morning is toast.