Sheer heart attack...

Well that's that.  We finally achieved the impossible.

No, I'm not back to talking about the bloody awning with its promise of a twelve minute set up, oh no, this was far more impressive.  We managed to render both woofers completely senseless after a five hour walk through Lydford Gorge yesterday.  Mind you, the husband and I were in a similar state if I'm honest.

We'd booked this campsite in Lydford for the sole purpose of walking through the gorge.  Getting our tickets yesterday morning (having already negotiated a 15% hill I should mention) the National Trust lady did her best to persuade the husband that getting a membership would be sensible.  He looked at me for feedback, and I took him aside, and said that 'no way was I old enough to join the National Trust as yet.  For heaven's sake, it will be the Ramblers Association and a heated sheepskin slipper next'.  

She was most persistent though, and suggested that we go for the walk and then decide over a cup of tea whether we wanted to join up or not.  'I'm glad you've got sensible shoes on', she said pointing to our walking boots.  'This walk is not for the faint hearted'.  Reminding the husband that I'd seen a mention of mobility scooter access on the tickets, I asked him 'how hard could it be....'

Well, I'll tell you how hard it could be my friends.  Eight miles, five hours, steps carved out of glass-like granite, sheer drops to the streams and waterfalls below, sporadic handrails and more ups and downs than the Labour Party.  But the views...oh it was one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, and although my photos don't do it justice, I hope you get a feel of the place.  What you can't get is the sense of terror as I gripped at the rails, facing them and coming down the steps sideways to avoid even glancing at what was just a foot slip away.
                  
Finally making it back to the tea shop (no alcohol unfortunately, but a decent bit of cake) we walked back to the caravan.  It was then that I remembered the 15% hill.  It was tough enough going down, but going up?  It's at times like this that I wish Percy was bigger so that I could saddle him up and ride him home, and it was with utter relief that a pub loomed on the horizon.  Luckily, they did sell alcohol, so after a couple of beverages, we walked the final mile home.

Settling down with a well earned cup of tea, the husband looked over to me and said, 'I'm so proud of you and what you've done today.  You've tackled some really tough stuff'.

Puffing up at his words, I said to him, 'That's a kind thing to say'.

And then he had to go and open his mouth and ruin it all.

'I mean, you're normally such a wuss'.

Thanks darling, I love you too....

                                 


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