Camping

A quick recap:

Too many screaming children. Campsites are awesome because they have showers and toilets, but actually wild camping is better in terms of peace and quiet.

A really long circular walk that was notable because a: it was ten miles and b: I didn’t get lost despite following some poorly marked by-ways and footpaths across farmers fields etc.

A laughably terrible pub lunch in which it took an hour for them to give me a menu after I sat down. Luckily I had nowhere to be.

Getting a lift up to the campsite with some random guy I met in the pub. His dog had muscular dystrophy. It was sad.

Walking the footpath from the campsite to the town each day, and each day a herd of ‘ornery looking horned cows getting closer and closer and staring at me in that intent, contemplating-your-impending-death way that cows have. Said journeys finally culminated in me having to walk right through the middle of said herd with one of the baby cows doing its level best to chase me off.

Seeing some of the most expensive fuck-off houses I’ve ever seen. Move over florida mansions. The people of the cotswolds have serious money.

Getting to see the Charlbury streetfair. Also: the Charlbury museum and the Charlbury Art Exhibition.

Not having to worry about anyone else. Getting up when I liked, eating what I liked, doing what I liked. This is what retirement must feel like. I cannot wait.