A Fit of Peak

Well, and where was I last weekend? I hear you cry.  Well, I don’t – but you know what I mean.  It went like this: we gathered together from the four corners of the downstairs cupboard a tent which seemed to be missing half its poles.  We then borrowed another tent, intrepidly we packed Bernard and Linda’s car with our stuff and set off up the M1 to a campsite near Ashbourne – in Dovedale to be precise.  Improbably we arrived in bright sunshine and unwrapped a tent which appeared worryingly small as well as disturbingly single-layered.  After that we settled down to drink wine with our fellow-campers.

Alas!  the night did not go well at all; our bed developed a slow puncture and rain set in together with a gusty wind which caused the tent to shower me with spray at irregular intervals.  I tried pretending I was on a sailing boat for a while, but you can only keep that up for so long, and at seven we gave up the unequal struggle and went over to Jane’s truly stupendous tent-plus-awning-plus gazebo to make tea.

After breakfast Richard arrived with a map, and we all trooped off towards Dovedale.  The rain stopped, and it was a stunning walk – although some people were rather too enthusiastic about shinning up peaks for my liking and, though I hadn’t realised it, my blood sugar was dropping.  I’d packed for a shortish ramble but it turned into a long-ish route-march, and by mid-afternoon one foot would no longer plant itself in front of another and I all-but collapsed.  mark had to go haring off to find Richard who, bless his damp socks, went to fetch his car and gave us a lift back to base.

I felt quite subdued through that evening’s barbeque and we had a rather drastically early night after being shown round an Airdome trailer which some lucky people were camping in:


I was very envious as it was beautiful inside and so dry!

I slept better thanks to the loan of some air-beds, but when we woke to driving rain and freezing wind I had but one thought, which was to get out of there and come home ASAP.  Fortunately Bernard and Linda’s thoughts tended the same way so by midday we were home and my feet, along with the rest of me, were soaking in a nice hot bath.

So that was last weekend in the Peak district.  Good in parts…

Kirk out



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