Wallowing

          This is how the Penn Festival carpark looked after just a few cars had made it through, it wasn’t long before the carpark was abandoned, but the fun went on.

          The tractor churned things up further while trying to lay a path with big wooden boards.

          The beer tent garden turned into a paddling pool.

          Even with the rain and the mud the crowds enjoyed the entertainment.

          By Sunday morning the field resembled a bog, but still the fun went on.

          And this was man’s new best friend …

          Look here for other posts about “Penn Festival“.

Fish tale

          This isn’t a tale about “the one that got away”, it’s about the first, and last, fish I ever caught.

          I must have been about fifteen at the time and we were camping at one of our favourite campsites, Merthyr Mawr, in Bridgend.  The campsite was at the beginning of some sand dunes which led eventually to the beach, or alternatively, the Ogmor river was nearby and this could just as easily be followed to the sea.   Such was the time and environment then, that three girls, aged 17, 15 and 10 were allowed to wander at will on holiday without the fear and restraints that today’s society would have put on them.

          On such  a holiday we, three sisters, wandered to the sea via the river, paddling along in the water with flip-flops underfoot and there I “found” a fish.  You can see by the size in the photo that is was no small fish which meant it was also no mean feat for the skinny 15-year-old (yes, I was skinny once) to “help” the fish to the sea.

          In fact, it was pretty back-breaking work, bending almost double and paddling along guiding the fish in between the rocks trying all the time to keep it in the water.  Eventually my efforts paid off and we made it to the sea, I waded out to about knee-deep with the fish, pointed it towards the open sea and set it free …

          It sank !

          I’d like to say I was upset for the poor fish, or even vaguely worried about its well-being, but I think annoyed would have been a better description of my feelings at that time, after all the hard work I’d just put in “rescuing” it from the rocky river I couldn’t believe all it did was sink !

          So … I hoisted it high on my shoulder and took it back to the tent to eat.

          After the back-breaking struggle down to the sea, I now headed back in the opposite direction to clamber over the sand dunes.  I guess I wasn’t quite the normal sight to be seen walking back through the campsite, I did draw a few questioning glances as I went.  One of my sisters ran ahead to warn my Mum … “Sallyann’s caught a fish” … but I don’t think she was quite expecting what she saw when I turned up.

          There we were, in a tent, with no fridge and this huge fish to eat.   Mum cut it into large slices and fried some of it, then the rest was kept cold in a bucket of water which had to be continually refreshed to stop it going off.

          What type of fish was it ?  Well, it turned out to be a salmon and apparently, it had been heading inland from the sea so no wonder it wasn’t too overjoyed and ready to swim away when I returned it to the sea.

          Oh, by the way, excuse the quality of the photo, but it’s the only one we have by way of proof of the first and last fish I ever caught.

Hook Farm

          I know not everyone will be interested in this post, but for anyone wanting to see where we camped, or to actually visit the area in the future, here’s a look around “Hook Farm“, we thought it was really nice and I’m more than happy to recommend it to anyone who might want to go.  Follow the link above to their website if you’d like more information.

          The pitches were of a pretty good size, we parked the car, pitched the tent, and still had plenty of room for chairs, table or whatever else we might want to put outside.  The farm is on a hill but the site is terraced so there are plenty of flat pitches on a number of different levels. You can see what a great view we woke up to each morning being on the highest level.

          I won’t bore you with pictures of the washing facilities, but I thought this vase of dried flowers on the windowsill of the ladies shower block was a nice touch, typical of the thoughtfulness shown throughout the camp.

          There was a small, but fun looking, play area for little people,

          And a small site shop for anything which might be needed by the bigger people.

           More from before: our weeek in “Lyme Regis” in April 2012.

Weather the weather

          Back in September 2009 I climbed Snowdon.  Hubby did all the planning and his route had us “Going up” via the “PYG track“ and “Comming down“ via the Llanberis Path.

          Our very basic base-camp was in a field in Llanberis, just the tent, a couple of sleeping bags.  We took the pillows, duvet and memory foam mattress topper to add a little home comforts but that was it.  When Hubby suggested we did it again I agreed but added … no mountain … and no tent.

          I used to go “Camping” as a kid but it was never as basic as this so I gradually came round to the idea of going again and when the opportunity arose to extend the Isle of Wight holiday for a couple of days we booked our little green tent into a holiday park on the island … going from one extreme to the other to test the water.  I gave in and we settled on finding somewher in the middle, a happy medium which meant cheaper, relaxing holidays out of the “rat race” but with a few more “home comforts”.

          We’ve been invited to a wedding in July … at a pop festival … in a tent !

          I really wasn’t happy about spending another three days in the little green tent so Hubby checked out the price of the luxurious tents for hire at the festival, they call it “glamping”.  However, for less than it would cost to hire one of these for the weekend, we’ve bought a new blue tent, with plenty of room to sit, an even stand in, and a few more home comforts too so I’ve pretty much committed myself to camping again (no mountains though).

          Hubby’s been busy with his holiday research and found a lovely little farm campsite near Lyme Regis to try out the new blue tent this week so I’m watching the weather forecast with my heart in my mouth and my head in my hands.

          I’m reminded of a tongue twister I used to rattle off when I was a kid …

Whether the weather be fine
or whether the weather be not,
Whether the weather be cold
or whether the weather be hot,
We’ll weather the weather
Whatever the weather
Whether we like it or not.