Saturday, 9 August 2008


This morning in the wind and the rain TLB and I set off to have a look at some local camp-sites, a reconnaissance mission designed to help me gauge the likelihood of finding somewhere nice to live in my tent. It took us about half an hour to find the first one tucked away down a tiny road. The wending stream cut through a verdant valley and a packhorse bridge separates the 2 camping fields that are on the site.

For a fiver a day the dog and I can sleep on their land and when asked if I could extend my tenure with them after their 28 day limit, the lovely lady said that all I would have to do is leave for a day and then I could come back. Result. Joy. My main fear was allayed on the first site we went to, they have farm foul, rustic cottages and 2 different camp-sites on their land which appears to be massive and the lady I spoke to seemed very nice to boot. Happy days.

The second site we visited was somewhat less idyllic. On arrival it became painfully obvious that it was in fact a trailer park with a small field next to it for campers. Not just a touring park but an actual trailer park, with static caravans, dirty children and incredibly white plastic picket fences. We didn't even get out of the car. Mercifully it wasn't the first place we visited or my spirits may have taken a downturn.

The third place we visited was the pub and the second camp-site was quickly forgotten. This beautiful little discovery in the valley means that my rent and bills are about to drop from about £1300 per month to £150 which is fantastic. The extra fuel to get to work will add a few quid to my monthly budget but that is an acceptable loss. At that price it will be hard to leave though I am sure at some point I will feel compelled to go elsewhere, after all, that is beauty of living in a tent.

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