Mrs O and I went camping at the weekend, as is our wont at the end of August. Sadly, the summer ended a little prematurely this year in England, so the weather alternated between air frost and torrential rain the entire time.
The final day of the trip, Bank Holiday Monday, was worthy of especial note. It started raining at about 10am and gently ramped the action up until lunchtime, by which time it would have brought down an albatross. We had intended to have a mooch to the coast after breakfast, but you couldn't really get out of the car without a full-face crash helmet, so decided against it. Instead we thundered back to London to do some utility shopping.
There are fewer more spirit-sapping experiences than being in the B&Q in Leyton on a Bank Holiday Monday in the p1ssing rain. People were slumped in corners writing war poetry. It was that bleak. The dead-eyed staff didn't help much either, shuffling about trying not to catch anyone's attention. The whole thing was miserable on an industrial scale.
Next year we're taking the tent to Doha.
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