Everybody speaks English and everybody is friendly. Can't believe how many Canadians there are, both living here and visiting. The weather is deceivingly cheeky.
You sit in your nice warm bar looking out at the odd ripple in the snowy slush. You get all excited when you see a whole roof full of snow suddenly slide off onto the pavement. But then you see people walking past, at an angle, wearing the thickest feather down coats with fur hoods you've ever seen and you remember the icy bitter wind. Another pint, we can check in later.
Eventually we leave Brew Dog and head home. The desk staff have changed since dinner time and look us over suspiciously when we turn up with no luggage but once they open the left luggage vault and check passports everybody is happy.
The room looks very Scandinavian, plenty of space but not enough hangers and no drawer space to dump stuff. We have a small entrance room with couch and second TV; sure Jill is eyeing it up for me if I snore. Strange thing is the water tastes of hard boiled eggs - sulphur; well, we are on a volcanic island. Night night.