“Winchcombe Friday”

Friday Night Monty

Or Memorable, No Dishwashing Involved and Winter Heaven…

Darrell picks me up straight after work tonight and we head to Winchcombe. Despite having to leave an hour later than normal the traffic is not too bad and we arrive at the site by half six.

“Perfect timing,” says Sue “I remember you from before”. That’s impressive as it was 11 months ago and in winter darkness.

“It’s because you are always so cheerful”, Darrell tells me when her husband adds that he can remember me too, but doesn’t recognise Darrell at all.

We had expected to be on our own tonight as the forecast for tomorrow is so bad, but instead the place is absolutely packed as it is the Cheltenham Open.

It is decidedly cool as we pitch and although we can still see the nearly full moon the stars are rapidly disappearing behind banks of cloud.

Darrell has decided that we should make a real effort to control our dishwashing efforts this weekend. So instead of doing it once a day he has determinedly collected up every camping dish and plate we own so we can bring them all home on Sunday, put them through the dishwasher and not do it at all! Shiona would be horrified.

We eat ‘Friday Night Stir Fry’ within an hour of arrival. A slight wind rustles the winter kit and the first raindrops start. The only sound is the occasional coot – winter heaven.

We wake in the night. Monty is like a ship on a stormy sea. We are in a small, warm space surrounded by the endless cold, wet darkness…

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