East of Edinburgh on the coast-hugging 'Golf Coast Road', a pleasing village where if you're not here for the golf, you'll likely be brandishing a pair of binoculars.
More than a dozen courses in the immediate area make for a fair share of those fond of a foursome. If you're not into swinging, avoid the temptation of getting close enough to pretend to do a tee-time sneeze, hee-hee.
Saltmarsh and tidal flats are an attraction for waders and gaggles of geese in winter and warbling in the woodland come summer.
Thanks to the environment, they moved their HQ here in 2005 to the purpose-built Waterstone House, a resource centre for everything flying, but thankfully not golf baws.
SlyBob fancies a sandwich, but there's nothing now in Gullane and North Berwick is notoriously busy when the sun's oot. We're not here for long, but we hear things might take flight - off we go...
Just a quick pull-in and a peep at Aberlady today because we're on the way east from Edinburgh to somewhere else. Not so much for the name, the Virgin Mary and all that, but here is, get this, HQ of the Scottish Ornithologists' Club, no less.
No strangers to the brandishing of a binoc, there's a Local Nature Reserve, the first in the UK, they say, and plenty of people out and about. Looking through the lenses, however, them ain't no twitchers rather members of a swingers club, club swingers of the golfing kind, that is.
Yes, the A198 that hugs the south shoreline of the Firth of Forth is renowned as the 'Golf Coast Road' at least it is in East Lothian and if you happen to be keen on a round.
Twenty-one courses in total although a handful are inland and a few belong to Edinburgh, really, so 15 courses in total, not that SlyBob are au fait with foursomes.
We don't mean that kind of swinging but the denial suggests otherwise? Deary me, all we're saying is we know nothing of that, golf or Game of Thrones for that matter so please stop asking if we've seen it.
The golf comes as no surprise, though, because it's right next door to Gullane and regular readers, yeah right, will know all about that.
Ignoring the human lightning conductors in the distance, for now, there's the small matter of a smart-looking village through which the main road passes.
Residentially speaking, The Lodge was or still is yours at not too far south of a snippy £2M and the fanciest corner shop, ever, is handily opposite.
A pair of fleshpots, the Old Aberlady Inn and the Grace of India might warrant a night if you're exploring these parts but there is, however, a problem...
The place is full of people who play golf.
Remember the Local Nature Reserve? Well, Aberlady Bay Local Nature Reserve is pretty much where and what it says it is, overlooking tidal flats and salt marsh that lead to woodland and dunes.
It's full of migrants, geese in winter and warblers in summer and looks not a little unlike this.
There is, however, no time today despite it looking not a little unlike that. No time, neither, for the added attraction of getting close enough to some golfers to pretend to do a tee-time sneeze, hee-hee.
As for the Scottish Ornithologists' Club HQ - thanks M J - it's further back on the main road but despite their welcoming claim, there's nary a soul aboot.
Now, the Oxford English Dictionary™'s definition of the word 'Knacky' is to be artful or cunning although in this house it means to be daunted in a diffident kind of way. That's particularly regarding authority figures e.g. 'I was a bit knacky to stop a policeman even though I've just been held up at gunpoint.'
A solitary, studious-looking gent is focused on a periodical through his bifocals meaning SlyBob are a bit knacky about entering, which is a shame since we're not experts and advice and identification tips are advertised.
We could do with the professionals because quite a few of something unfamiliar can frequently be seen in flight...
White, dimpled and yay big, a strange thwacking sound may be made before take off. Boy are they fast, like 150-mph fast, and don't fly for long preferring to rest on the flat.
Ocasionally found in overgrown grass evading human hunters, nesting in holes is the norm, usually alone. We definitely heard someone's description as some sort of birdie, an eagle perhaps?
Ah think ye'll fin' that's a golf baw!
I dunno, no sense of humour these folk, eh? No wonder we're knacky around them.