What can I say? The weather beat us this year. So so so so frustrating and apologies to all who had dusted off the tents, wiped the cobwebs out of their billy cans and kindly prepared food - hope you could freeze it. Also hope you found an alternative to placate the excited kids!
The decision was taken with a very heavy heart (heavy from water logging). But I think it was the right call. Thursday night was the most stormy night I have spent under canvas since sharing a tent with Radar after the Fort William Pickled Egg Festival. It rained almost all Friday, and even if the rain had kept off for (most of) Saturday, the campsite was already a bog and would have been a total quagmire with cars coming and going.
Thanks to all those who were 'up for it' and our most sincere apologies to have had to disappoint you.
We may try to rearrange for a date in August but I suspect it will be short notice after we have seen the weather forecast predicting glorious sunshine and no more than a weak kitten's breath of wind. We'll keep you posted.
Next year we are thinking GREECE!!
 |
| What the campsite FELT like |
 |
Three cars and it was all starting
to look a bit 'speedway'
|
 |
| A rather muddy 'Welcome' mat |
.jpg) |
| Zack, Luke and Christina (notice even Luke's pupils have taken shelter!) |
 |
| Cheer up, here are some roses! |
It rained and rained and rained and rained,
The average was very well maintained.
And when the fields were simply bogs,
It started raining cats and dogs.
After a dousing of half an hour
We had a most refreshing shower.
And then the most curious thing of all,
A gentle rain began to fall!
It poured and poured and poured and poured
Until the rain itself got bored.
And after a deluge the briefest lull
Before it recommenced in buckets-full.
The next day was very almost dry
Save for the constant rain from the sky
Which wetted the party to the skin
And then, at last, the rain set in.
Thunder, lightning, tempest, squall
And all the while the rain did fall.
And finally with great anticipation
We returned to plain old precipitation.
[A slightly altered (and very apt) famous poem on rain.]
No comments:
Post a Comment