Infodumping is a classic TW style thing, though. She does it in all three extant books -- about homelesslessness in TSP, in TWS about Icelandic volcanic geology, in LL about Scottish history. It's always a total snoozefest and has a cut-and-pasted from Google air to it.
Actually, if I were a Scot, I'd find parts of LL pretty offensive. For someone who has apparently been coming to Scotland since she was a teenager, she has some incredibly dopey, lazy ideas of the kind she always associates, sneeringly, with 'tourists':
Scotland is heavy with history, myth and legend. The glens and hillsides echo with the sound of its past: armies raised and fallen; battles fought, won and lost; hard lives carved among unforgiving mountains; crofters, clearances, heroes and monsters. I wonder how any country can exist in the present under the weight of so much past.
The petrol station carries as much Nessie memorabilia and trinkets as it does confectionary and petrol cans; it feels like a meeting place of the old and new country. I’ve found this in almost every store we’ve stopped at in the north and it makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. As if somehow I’ll be approached by a salesman for the old country every time I buy a loaf of bread. But if millions of visitors come here for the history and myth, then why not package that up for them? It leaves everyone satisfied with the outcome.
Discovering that Inverness has a lot of tech business and oil industry support stuff, she opines
I suspect there’s a lot more to today’s Scotland than tins of shortbread and Nessie keyrings.
That is unforgiveably lazy writing. Every bit as lazy and thoughtless as the 'visitors' (who are, we are clearly supposed to realise, not the Winns, who are all real and gritty) who buy Nessie keyrings and tartan-wrapped shortbread.