Mike and Penny King brought Frank, Rosemary delivered me and suddenly we were left to begin the trek through the leafy woods and the early flowers of our so late spring.
Then, when we reached Sunny Lyn, the first campsite the enormity of the task began to raise its head. We carried our bags across the field (Rosemary had brought them on for us) and we started to erect our tents.
The site looked so picturesque; the field, so green stretching out at the side of a babbling brook that tumbled and splashed over the rocks.
The pub just over the back was closed and so we set off to search for a place to eat. A huge climb and we eventually came across an Indian restaurant two miles down the road. The waiter, so eager to please repeated everything we asked for but clearly understood nothing of what we said. Frank had his beer served in two glasses and my pint of tonic water came in a thimble sized glass. The meal was palatable although neither of us really knew what it was. The final bill made us resolve to be more aware in the future. We made our way back up and over the hill and found that our neighbourhood pub had opened late! Hey ho!
It was a few minutes passed eight growing dark and tiredness began to set in. Sleep beckoned but we struggled to doze off the crashing sound of water on rocks, our well-earned blissful night of sleep after a long walk failed to materialise.
Verdict: Noisiest camp site – couldn’t get a wink!
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