May the few crumbs of this post sustain you through the long days to come.
Once again I trundle offline and offshore into the sunset, cycling and walking on a small array of Scottish islands.
Last year the plan was Arran, Islay and Jura. The first two were so involving that there wasn't time to do all three.
This year Jura takes centre stage. A place where deer outnumber humans thirty to one. Where, if they drank the whisky they make, they'd get through just under a bottle an hour, every hour, every man woman and child. The place where there's the oldest stone structure in Scotland, the place where the KLF burned a million quid, where George Orwell wrote 1984.
For more, see last year's hiatus announcement.
Back in ten days or so.