Sunday began earlier than it should have, but getting all the tent shit out of the way, meant we could enjoy Bloodstock’s final day without that chore nagging at the back of our minds. I couldn’t be arsed packing up properly, so just shoved the tent and other bits of crap into my zipped up sleeping bag, and carried it on my shoulder like a hobo. One of our camping neighbors kindly allowed us to store the remainders of our food (tinned fish and half a pasta pot) in the porch of his tent so we wouldn’t have to carry the stinky shit around all day.
Next stop - cup of coffee. I spent the last of my money on an overpriced Americana; it was ok but not really worth writing about, bit of a pointless paragraph for you there.
No comments:
Post a Comment