The Nostalgic Spring Sojourn | Part 9

Alison served up another lovely cooked breakfast Tuesday morning, satisfying my belly if not the nurse that keeps an eye on my cholesterol. We said our goodbyes to Adam & Jamie as they departed for what turned out to be a horrendously delayed journey back to Kent.

We’d a few things we wanted to do with our remaining time at Ashridge Farm but the forecast was depressingly accurate and the rain arrived mid-morning and hung around until late afternoon. We did manage an outing mind but to nowhere more exciting than the retail park outside Biggleswade a few minutes drive up the road. I’m a fairly recent convert to electric toothbrushes and having picked one up at Wilko’s when in South Wales last year, I needed some more replacement heads.

Now, I don’t know what it is about shops like Wilko but I either tend to come out with nothing or a basketful of stuff that a I didn’t realise I needed – and in truth probably didn’t. This was one of those occasions. Having located said replacement heads, more apparently essential bits and bobs made it’s way into the basket. By the looks of things, the same thing happened to Alison.

A lazy afternoon in Patsy followed and then later, as the rain cleared and the sun returned, I made the short drive cross country to finally catch up with Lyn & Richie at the English Caravan Company. We’d been friends on social media for ages and Trev and I had always wanted to come and say hello but for whatever reason it never happened. I was determined to put that right this time and it was fantastic to finally meet up in person. For those that don’t know Lyn & Richie design and build caravans, making them in their workshop from scratch. They also renovate and refurbish old caravans and there was an Alpine Sprite in the workshop with it’s innards removed as the slow process of restoring her began. Well, we had a really lovely chin-wag and they very kindly fed me too, with delicious jacket potatoes that had been cooking on the wood burner, with all the trimmings. Being a country boy myself I knew that it wasn’t always as tranquil as you might think in these parts but I enjoyed Lyn & Richie's tales of the carrying’s on they’ve seen and heard which, funnily enough, often coincided with the arrival of our travelling friends in the village and nearby. From hare coursing to vanishing lead from the church roof and more – as relative newcomers to life outside a city think it quite surprised them. A thoroughly enjoyable afternoon and I’m so glad we finally got to meet up. Again, the joy of social media is that we felt like we knew each other already.

Back at the site I had my second dinner of the day, Alison once again doing the honours. The cider, archers, beer and wine flowed and we probably overdid it a bit. Good fun though.

The forecast on Wednesday wasn’t too promising so we reckoned on a trip to the Imperial War Museum at Duxford would be ideal – mostly inside and we could dodge from hangar to hangar between showers. As it happened though the sun shone pretty much all day, but nevertheless we had a great time and the camera got plenty of use. I’d been a few times – particularly as a kid – but they’re constantly changing and expanding the collection and we didn’t get to see everything. You’ll need a day to do it all but it will be time well spent.

We had a rather odd encounter with a volunteer which had us giggling for a while after. He explained that the hanger behind us (there wasn’t one) was no longer there (ah!) because during the filming of The Battle of Britain they’d accidentally blown it up (got it). He laboured the point clearly thinking that we we having a bit of trouble grasping the fact, then went off on a tangent talking about my camera – and then his. You had to be there but it was amusing.

That night we tried one of the other pubs in the village – The Rose & Crown – and this was every bit as enjoyable as our meal at The Three Tuns two nights ago. There was even a black beer on offer – how very thoughtful of them!

On Thursday afternoon we headed into Cambridge, utilising the Park & Ride at Trumpington. This was a first me for me too and I nearly got us on the wrong bus – thankfully someone kindly put us right. We had a good wander around, through the Market Square and down Rose Crescent, stopping for coffee in Trinity Street, just along from the impressive Trinity Great Gate. I will never tire of visiting my home town and I’m still very proud of it though my tourist guide skills were no match for Trev’s – demonstrated so well when he took us around during a Twittercamp meet in 2016.

Suitably recharged we headed up Magdalene Street and across the River Cam, looking at the punts below and remembering our time in one back at the same meet. It looked as cold now as we found it then.

We crossed back over the Cam again at Jesus Green and made our way back into the City via Park Street before catching the bus back to the Park & Ride site.

We didn’t go back to the site but headed east to meet with a friend of mine for dinner at a pub on the other side of the city. The White Hart in Fulbourn is popular because of it’s food – Trev and I have been a few times in the past – and once again it didn’t disappoint.

Friday was my last full day on site – and the last of the trip – and I kept up with tradition of giving the old girl – Patsy that is – a bit of a clean up whilst packing stuff for the trip home. One of the less desirable features of blown air heating is the dust it circulates, though sadly, whichever way I look at it, I can’t blame it for the cobwebs. A certain someone would not have been amused!

That night I welcomed Alison to Patsy for dinner.. Fortunately she brought a slow cooker full of Chilli con Carne with her and all I had to do was the rice which I just managed not to bugger up. It all went down very well indeed – with a beer or two of course but with another tidy tow in the morning I wanted a reasonably clear head – as clear as mine ever gets anyway!

Saturday and time to go. I was ready in good time once again and well inside my admittedly generous target. Alison was up and about too and I stopped to say goodbye on the way out. It had been another great stay, made all the better with the company of friends. We parted in the knowledge that we would be meeting again at the end of May.

The 130 miles or so back to the south coast was trouble free and after a thirsty start Rosie had eventually managed 28 mpg by the time I’d pulled into the storage yard. The journey gave me time to reflect on the trip as a whole and without doubt it has been the best yet as a solo – and single – caravanner. I’ve revisited some great places. Stirred some happy memories and made a few new ones too. It wouldn’t have been half as enjoyable however had I not been able to meet up with so many friends whilst away – it made so much difference and kept the inevitable pangs of loneliness at bay. So, at the risk of this turning into some snivelling awards acceptance speech I want to say thanks to everyone that played a part in the Nostalgic Spring Sojourn and made it the success I had hoped for. In no particular order: Angela, Marc, Ken, Richard, Diane, Sandra, David, Gary, Mike, Jen, Peter, Pam, Alison, Adam, Jamie, Lyn, Richie and Pauline – Thank you – you’re awesome.

Right, until next time. Thanks as always for reading. I do appreciate it and your lovely comments too.

Cheers

Rich

The Nostalgic Spring Sojourn | Part 8

It had been a while but the wave came again Friday night – I’d felt a bit unsettled all afternoon and decided, following dinner, that a walk to the pub for a couple might help. It didn’t, that intense feeling of loneliness was hovering around so I went back to Patsy and stuck some music on. You’ll know the rest.

Saturday was my last full day at Kilnsea and I was feeling perkier after a half decent nights sleep. This was very much an ‘at the ‘van’ day and it might come as shock to you but I didn’t even venture to the pub for a couple of lunchtime pints as mooted. Since the start of the trip I’d been cleaning Patsy’s exterior with Triplewax Waterless Wash & Shine – an excellent recommendation from Dan Trudgian last summer - and finally completed that in the morning, except the back that is – that’s going to need lots of water. The old girl still don’t scrub up too bad though, bless her. I wrote a blog post, had a play with the new Wi-Fi gear from Solwise and started preparations for my departure on Sunday. With one hundred and eighty or so miles ahead and loosing an hour thanks to the clocks changing I wanted as little to do in the morning as possible.

My plan, such as it was, worked and I was pulling out of the gate at 0940 – in real terms 0840 of course – and that was probably as good as I could have hoped for. I needn’t have worried about disturbing anyone though as everyone seemed to be up an about. I noticed that my routine was being watched by a couple of fellas, standing just far enough away so as not to be within speaking distance, or ‘offering help distance’ as I thought somewhat cynically - and trying – and failing – not to look as if they were looking. Clearly I looked like I was managing just fine on my own – which in truth I was. My routine has gotten much more organised over time but still needs fine tuning.

My destination was the Ashridge Farm Caravan & Motorhome Club Site in the village of Ashwell in Hertfordshire and as expected it took nearly four hours in total, going through Hull and across the Humber Bridge, joining the A1 near Newark. I stopped just once for a quick leak and in all honesty felt fine, Pepsi Max providing the necessary caffeine boost. Rosie clearly found it thirsty work too, managing barely 25mpg, although to be fair to her it was windier than I expected and I did get my foot down a bit harder when circumstances allowed.

The club’s instructions were very clear – approach only via the A505 and I sensed the nice lady from Google Maps getting cross with me as I ignored her instructions three times to take cross country routes from the A1. Eventually she worked out what I was doing.

It was here that I was supposed to be meeting my cousin Andy & Janet – but poor Jan had taken a tumble in the week and, although thankfully had not broken anything, could hardly move and was in considerable pain, so they’d regretfully had to cancel. However some friends were already on site, although sadly not present to see yet another slick motor mover free reversing manoeuvre from yours truly. My neighbour to be was though, although he was doing his best not to look as if he was looking..

Now, this is the part of the trip where the title becomes slightly inaccurate – I’d never been to this site before, however it is a case of third time lucky. We were booked on here during our winter trip in the December of 2017, then Trev’s Mum died and we had to bypass it, going straight to Cambridge. Last year it was to be our final stop off on the way home after our summer trip – and you know what happened then.

I’d just about finished setting up when my friends Alison, her son Adam & partner Jamie returned from an expedition to get something for dinner. An earlier incursion to the village to book a table had proved unsuccessful, it being Mothers Day. Suddenly I too realised I needed the shops because if we were staying in I need something to drink – sorry, research samples - so off I went, this time listening to the nice lady from Google Maps. It was soon clear why the club had said not to tow through the village as it wouldn’t have been much fun with Patsy on the back.

Anyway, dinner – cooked by Adam – was lovely and we had a good chin-wag over an ale or three too. It was nice once again to be among the company of friends.

Monday and the weatherman was true to his word as the sun was making it’s presence felt after a chilly night. Alison did the honours with a very welcome cooked brekky then, later we headed out in Adam’s car for a look around this little part of the country, the first stop being in Saffron Walden, a lovely little market town just over the border in Essex. Always worth a visit and after a stroll around coffee was taken outside in the glorious sunshine. It really was a cracking day.

Next up was back in Hertfordshire and Royston. Pleasant enough but I don’t think any of us were particularly inspired, it did however provide an opportunity for some cut-price research in the shape of the local Wetherspoons, alongside some tasty nibbles.

Last stop of the day was Letchworth – the UK’s and World’s first ever Garden City and apparently the location for the UK’s first roundabout too. You may recall we stopped in Welwyn Garden City in December 2017 so I was keen to compare. Time was marching on so we didn’t have long but there were certainly similarities with the wide open airy spaces. A traditional sweetshop in one of the arcades grabbed our attention and was the recipient of some custom too.

That evening we walked - yes, walked – into the village and to the pub that had been fully booked the day before – The Three Tuns – for the Last Supper, as Adam & Jamie would be departing in the morning. It was worth the 24 hour wait as the food was excellent and afterwards we adjourned to then lounge and slumped into some comfy chairs well and truly stuffed. Not exactly a traditional boozer – very much geared for food as many have to be now – but they  kept some nice real ales, a couple of which I’d not sampled. That was soon put right.

The Nostalgic Spring Sojourn | Part 7

With just a short journey to my next site, there was no rush to get packed up and ready but even so, thanks to my body clock still being on term time, I was hitched up and ready to go before 10am. This was the second time in a row I’ve been ahead of schedule – most unusual for me but I know a certain person would have been impressed.

I knew the route roughly – we’d done the same two years ago – but Google Maps suggested a variation – turning off at Market Weighton and joining the A63 near the Humber Bridge. Last time we skirted Beverley hitting our required road to the east of Hull and I remember us both commenting on the number of roundabouts – three hundred was mentioned although it was in fact twenty-something. The variation suggested had a few less and I was happy to go with it after checking it out on a map.

The sixty-five miles took nearly two hours in the end thanks to some roadworks but in truth it was an easy run really. Rosie seemed to be enjoying the supermarket fuel a little too much as for a long while the MPG display made depressing reading, however by the time I had pulled up at the site entrance it had risen to 28. Given the route, the aforementioned roundabouts and a few twists and turns I was satisfied with that. Satisfied at least until later when I looked back to my blog post from two years and recalled that with Trev driving, Rosie managed 32mpg. Clearly I’m not quite as light footed as I thought. Oh well!

The site was, once again, Driftwood Caravan Site, located in Kilnsea, about three miles or so from Spurn Point. As I said we’d stayed here before and loved it. It’s remoteness made it a great place to unwind but with some lovely scenery close by and a decent boozer even closer. There’s just 10 pitches, five of which are occupied by seasonals, the majority of which are likely bird watchers. Having got Patsy thereabouts with the car I got her nice and snug on her pitch with the mover and went about setting her up, having popped to the house to hand over some folding for my stay.

A sandwich preceded something only vaguely resembling a nap – it was feeling a bit stuffy in the van so I figured some fresh air would do me good and might help to shift some of the muck currently inhabiting my airways. It may have also been on my mind that a late afternoon pint or two might go down rather well, but picked up the DSLR anyway as if to demonstrate there was something on my mind over than grog.

Well in the end I walked for half an hour or so, just up to the crossroads where the old road to the point starts. The little campsite just around the corner from the pub was open but the one a little further up was not, declaring that it was under new management. It really is a pretty part of the world and it’s rugged beauty reminded me somewhat of the Northumberland coastline, an area I love so much.

There was still an hour to the pub opening as I walked back and decided against a visit, returning instead to Patsy for another cosy evening in.

It did get a brief visit on Wednesday however, bisecting a relaxed day where I caught up on a few little jobs, read a lot and generally lounged about. This was was what I had planned for this part of the trip and so was not worrying about getting out and about much. Although I was beginning to wish I’d picked up a set of rods for my sinuses on the way down it was otherwise very enjoyable.

Thursday saw some friends come over from Sheffield for the day so I was up and about giving her Ladyship a bit of a tidy up first thing – a largely pointless exercise as we stood and chatted outside in the sun before adjourning to the pub for lunch. Peter knew Trev from the ‘old’ days back when Trev was working for the newsagents in Cambridge - way before our time - and it was one of those friendships that’s endured. They could go a long time without seeing one another but when they did, just caught up where they left off as it where. I hadn’t seen Peter or his wife Pam since the funeral so it was great to catch up again.

Friday saw me finally emerge from exile and back into the big wide world, making the fifty minute drive back in to Hull, the first port of call being the company Solwise who, you may recall have given me products to review in the past, most notably their excellent Outdoor Wi-Fi kit which has proved so useful to us. They had a new toy for me to play with - an upgraded version of the above – and we had a good chin-wag over a coffee too.

The Humber bridge was just a few minutes away so that was next on my list thanks to a suggestion from a Twitter pal. There was a massive – and free – car park serving the surrounding country park but was also handy for accessing the bridge on foot too.

OK, confession time – I didn’t walk all the way across, getting as far, I think as the half-way point – and even then I still clocked up a couple of miles by the time I was back at the car. It was very impressive, slightly disconcerting as it vibrates when vehicles rumble by, conscious of the water – and certain death – a long, long way below. Sadly, it was quite hazy so the lighthouse at Spurn couldn’t be seen but it was still a great experience and one I thoroughly recommend. Worth watching your back though – it’s a cycle path too and whilst there are signs indicating that pedestrians have priority, there was the odd cyclist who,in their attempt to seemingly break the land speed record, ignored it.

From the bridge I’d spotted what looked like a good view point so headed there next, pausing to devour the last of the sarnies and take in the view.

Next up was Beverley a half hour drive away. Louise at Solwise had given me the heads up on parking but it took me a few minutes to find it, although circling the town helped me get my bearings. Whilst I’d made sarnies I was uncharacteristically flask-less so first stop was for caffeine fix at Cafe Velo which came highly recommended and did provide a very tasty caffeine fix that perked me up no end.

I walked through the market square thinking, not for the first time in such a place, how much better it would look without the motor car, stopping at the Minster, once again handing over a few quid for a photo permit and the obligatory fridge magnet.

On the way back, roughly in the direction of the car I recalled what Louise had told me about local artist Fred Elwell. Copies of his paintings can be found dotted around the walls in the town and I did come across a couple without looking too hard, but I’ll certainly look to seek out some more on my next visit. The other thing I didn’t have to look for was pubs – they seemed to be everywhere – rubbing in the fact that I was in the car and couldn’t indulge. Oh well, there’ll be always another time.

The Nostalgic Spring Sojourn | Part 6

Sunday – the day of rest. And that’s exactly what I had planned, feeling very much like I was running on empty. Not only was the lack of decent sleep catching up again I’d awoke feeling like I’d been gargling carpet tacks and suspected a cold was beginning to make it’s presence felt. No matter, it’s been a long while since I’d had one and was quite pleased to have avoided picking up any bugs over the winter – working with kids it’s an occupational hazard but I guess it swings both ways and your immune system builds up too.

That’s not to say it was a bad day because it wasn’t – the sun was out, intermittently at least, and I was happy just to laze around in my happy zone – radio on in the background and a good book that was holding my attention for increasingly longer periods. I didn’t even go off site, the furthest expedition being to the facilities for a lovely long hot shower in one of the sites’ excellent en-suite units.

Monday, and again the sun was making a a sterling effort. It was my last day in York and, to be honest, not feeling 100% would have been happy to mirror Sunday’s activities – or lack of them. However that seemed a bit of a waste so, having done a load of washing and hung it out, I had a shower, got tarted up then pointed Rosie roughly north-west in the direction of Thirsk.

It was market day so the main square was packed with stalls and cars, but I found some parking just around the back near the river and fed some coins in the meter for a couple of hours stay. To be honest I didn't linger that long but loved the area by the bridge over the river which had plenty of benches and seats and looked a great place for a picnic.

A walk around the mainly cobbled square and down Market Street led me on to Kirkgate where I came across the Thirsk Museum – and learned something new – that Thomas Lord – of Lords cricket ground in London – was born here.

Further on, St Mary’s church looked stout and impressive in the sun – the increasing strength of which was having me seriously question for how much longer the long leather coat would stay on. Yes it was that warm!

On the way out I took the opportunity to check out the club site by the racecourse – it was here we were to come last year until they had to cancel bookings due to flooding and it was easy to see why. I’ve pulled some footage off the dash-cam so there may well be a site arrival at some point but if not, it’s quite easy to get to – from the A1(M) particularly.

Next up was Wetherby, a few miles back down the aforementioned A1(M) thanks to a road closure. No market but it looked busy and, having heard good things about the riverside I headed down there, impressed by the free car parking offered. Clearly, so were many others as there wasn’t a space to be had. Rosie idled for a bit as a watched for any imminent departures but there were none so headed off to find somewhere else.

I happened across another free car park shortly after but given my previous experience, was not hopeful. There appeared to be more comings – and more importantly goings though, so I circled the car park slowly, waiting for a space. As luck would have it – or so I thought – I saw someone easing out on the opposite side and headed around thinking that it was my turn and fair play might prevail. Yeah, right. Some Victor Meldrew’ esque character appeared in his shiny little hatchback with  face like a slapped arse and clearly a greater sense of entitlement, despite having only entered the car park seconds before. This was HIS space and nothing was going to stop him, especially some Southern nancy. Not that he’d have known that but I added it for effect. I didn’t have the will or the energy to challenge him, remembering the adage ‘pick your battles’ - he was never going to give the space up. So I satisfied myself with a little launch of the appropriate digit before heading off to find somewhere else – which I eventually did.

Again, the town was pleasant enough but yet again it was down by the river that I really liked. Now coat-less, it was really quite warm and again there were benches to sit and admire the view. I rued not making some sarnies as it would have been a cracking place to pause for a spot of lunch.

I’d debated continuing the sightseeing – Selby and a return visit to Knaresborough were two possibles – but what was quite obviously now a cold was slowing me down so instead heading back to the site, pausing at the nearby Asda to stock up. I knew from experience that my next site was quite remote and wanted to avoid long round trips for milk and the like.

And so, my last night on site at York Caravan Park. The time had flown by – really flown by and although it might sound as though it ended on a bit of a downer, I didn't see it that way at all. I’d had three great days out, met up with some lovely friends and had a thoroughly good time. I take the view now that there is no need to rush and see everything as there will always be a chance to return – for me anyway. It’s about making the most of how things are, indulging in what I enjoy - and I’ll go back to Thirsk and Wetherby and enjoy them more - I’m sure of that.

As I sat in Patsy and watched the beautiful sun set I reflected again that, despite what happened last summer I was still pretty fortunate – and will continue to make the most of that.

To get email alerts when I publish a new blog post, simply forward your email address to legsdown@outlook.com. I won’t share it and it won’t get used for anything else.

The Nostalgic Spring Sojourn | Part 5

Right, and after the excellent guest blog post from Sandra I’m afraid you’re back to wading through my old drivel again. Here we go:

After a hectic couple of days I was feeling pretty jaded Friday morning. My usual lack of decent sleep had caught up with me but I’d nothing planned anyway and for the most part took it easy. That’s not to say it was a wasted day though. I had a good read, pottered doing a bit of cleaning here and there and started – and eventually finished - a blog post. I don’t know about you but – as much as I love spending time away in Patsy – I can get a bit of cabin fever if stuck in all day. Sometimes a wander around the site does the trick – particularly if I’ve been chasing letters around the laptop keyboard. In this case though I went for a wander around the Monks Cross retail park about a five minute drive from the site. Pretty uninspiring to be honest but then as most know, I don’t do ‘stuff’ and there was nothing in the usual chain stores that appealed to my sartorial er, bent…

Another minor issue had surfaced soon after my arrival on site and, after having ignored it for a few days thought it was about time I took a look. The taps were spitting and spluttering and I guessed there was some air getting in the system somewhere. Having checked thoroughly for leaks, I did the usual and drained the system down before refilling again but the problem remained. I wondered whether there was an issue with the float in the mains water supply kit – I was on a serviced pitch again – but soon eliminated that from the equation. I was starting to see fivers – or more likely tenners - flutter down the road thinking a component somewhere had failed and decided the best bet was a cuppa to ponder my next move. It was after I’d drawn the water to refill the Brita jug that I heard a hissing sound outside after the pump had turned off and scurried out to see if I could find it’s source.

The problem was immediately evident and more importantly easily and even more importantly, cheaply fixed. They’d given me a new water filter when Patsy had her service in December suggesting I put it in at the start of the season. Well, like many my touring season doesn't stop but I completely forgot about it, tossing it in the front locker and only remembering to change it when I pitched up in Warwickshire. Clearly I hadn’t tightened it up quite enough as a firm turn on the blue cap and the hissing stopped. Running the taps for a few minutes cleared the pipes of any air and all was good.

After that I finished the blog post then made tea – OK, warmed up a portion of sausage casserole and mash – and had just cleared up when there was a tap at the door. It was fellow caravanner Mike who had said he was coming over for the weekend with his wife and had just got on site. We had a quick chin-wag then agreed to adjourn to his van later for some er, research. I’d raised the idea of going out prior but in truth was quite happy to stay on site, as was Mike – and knowing that another busy day lay ahead a quiet and early night wouldn’t hurt. Just a couple of hours I said to myself…

‘Just a couple of hours’ should be up there with ‘OK then just the one’ in my book of ‘Who do you think you’re kidding Rich’ phrases, as it was nearly the witching hour by the time we called it a night. It was a cracking evening and although we’d never met in person before, conversation flowed. The beauty of social media in this case being that you feel you know someone already. A thoroughly enjoyable evening.

Saturday and back on the bus to the station, where I was to board a train for Leeds - Leeds has been on our list for a while. Last year was probably the most serious attempt when we had planned to go in from Thirsk but when the site closed due to the weather those plans went tits up.

Although I’ve been fortunate enough to travel a lot I’ve never been particularly disciplined in doing research on a place – in fact I generally flip through any guide book afterwards bemoaning the fact that we’d missed stuff out. Anyway, friend and fellow caravanner David very kindly created a walking tour for me to ensure I wouldn’t miss out on the essentials. I was never going to ‘do’ a city as big as Leeds in a day but it would hopefully give me a good overview.

And so it proved. David’s excellent route took me from the station, past City Square and to a delightful light oasis of green call Park Square where I took an early lunch, noting that I really need to up my game, sarnie wise.

From there it was on past the Town Hall to the Millennium Square with the lovely Nelson Mandela gardens and the Civic Hall sitting proudly in the background. A great place to pause again and coffee was duly necked.

Continuing on Leeds cathedral was next before heading into and through the main shopping district, admiring on the way some of the lovely arcades that cut through from one street to another.

The famous Kirkgate Indoor Market was next and then across to the old Corn Exchange building now housing an eclectic mix of independent retailers. David had given me some other possibilities but they were a bit further out and, although that part of my anatomy that shall remain nameless had largely been behaving itself, I didn’t want to push it.

David and Gary joined me late afternoon to commence ‘research’ proceedings before a meal in town, followed by yep, more research. We’d not seen each other since the funeral so it was great to catch up again under better circumstances.

Even allowing for the different accents I’ve never had any trouble understanding David but the bar maid seemed to have a bit of a problem as he came back with the last round of four pints instead of three, blaming his cold. I could blame that for the reason I missed my intended train back to York but, in truth I didn’t want to go anyway as we were having such a great time and the evening was just too short. We hugged and said our goodbyes at the station and I quickly located the carriage with the loo which made the twenty minute journey much more comfortable. Luck was on my side in York and I didn’t have to wait for the last bus back to the site as the previous one was running late.

Another great day, made even more enjoyable by the company of friends – and that has been a feature throughout this trip. There’s someone missing of course but I reckon I’m doing a decent job of making the best of it.