Take me home, country road...

The last traces of glitter (never, ever will I wear glitter nail varnish again) are slowly disappearing, and my henna tattoo (beautiful flower on Saturday, old lady sun spots by Wednesday) is also almost gone.  I still have the blister on my right heel and a slight ringing in my right ear after standing next to the speaker while Mr Brightside was being belted out, but all in all, I think it's safe to say that I survived Catfest19.

I still feel that a week's sleep would benefit me no end, but as a few days away in the Wobble Box is on the cards (Woolacombe this time) I think that opportunities for a few zeds will be few and far between.  The husband (or Team Leader as he likes to be known on these forays into the wilderness) is planning walks a plenty.  The site we are on is on the top of the hill, so whichever way we walk, there is going to be one hell of an incline to conquer to get home.  

Last night, as the husband and I were watching the last episode of Dark Money (what a bundle of laughs that was - don't waste your licence fee on it if you want to keep a smile on your face and joy in your heart for the next week or so) I tried to lighten the atmosphere with the suggestion that a day on the beach would be lovely, assuming we could find one which allowed woofers.  And then I remembered the uphill slog.  

Admittedly, there are a couple of hostelries on route, but these tend to strengthen my resolve to stay put, rather than giving me a bit of extra oomph for the final push.   'We'll have to get a taxi back up that bloody hill', I said to the husband who seems to have conveniently forgotten that I am still recovering from a torn hamstring and a Baker's cyst.  'They won't let the dogs in the taxi', he said smugly.  'Well that's easy', I said, 'I'll get the taxi up the north side of the Eiger, and you can walk back with the dogs'.

Problem solved, and there will even be time for a gin and tonic and nibbles before he finally falls through the caravan door with two knackered dogs and a face like a burst tomato...


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