We have just spent a few happy days in wet and sunny Lake District, in the midst of Grizedale forest. Those hard core campers amongst us called it glamping for we were not under canvas but in Pods ( a wooden shed with carpet) or yurts ( think Genghis Khan.) A happy party of 18 or so from aged 5 months to 40 somethings *cough. Firstly can I just say there was NOTHING!!!! glamorous about this camping experience. The facilities were basic, the pods no more than a shed and the yurts came with their own mould and existing tenants ( think mice, toads and other forest creatures) with a loose grasp on the term fully furnished. Oh and some of them leaked; not good when you read this in conjunction with my opening sentence. But all of this could be forgiven for the loveliest farmer/owner ever; Arthur, owner of seemingly 1 pair or trousers and tee shirt, rider of the best quad bike ever, kindly, breeder of champion cattle and loaner of a barn on last night for a great BBQ and disco. Our collective tips to elevate the experience were hooks in showers and a good clean of the yurts.
Believing the pods to sleep 4, when I turned up with 3 teenagers all of whom tower above me, he looked at us and said plainly. "they only sleep 2 plus 2 children" Pity the website doesn't say that but he rustled up a spare pod and we were saved. A delivery of logs later, roaring camp fire and chilli con carne were under way with the biggest bag of Tortilla chips, 1.1kg to be precise, howge tubs of salsa and hummous, from Costco kept us all happy. Sister dearest was already on gin in a tin and the box of wine was going down a treat and the sun had not yet reached the yard arm. Decadent!
Despite managing on the sleeping arrangement front Arthur gallantly and repeatedly, almost forcefully, offered me his spare room with the added advantage of a new mattress. He certainly did seem to pop up where ever I might be and our fictitious relationship became the talk of the week.
Armed with the sense of humour that sometimes makes me wonder if we should all be locked up when the rain came pouring one afternoon we found ourselves trapped in the Yurt. Man we went stir crazy! With the gift of modern technology I give you The Facelift Game.
Minimum of 3 players
You take one small child, we used an 8 year old.
They need to stand behind an adult. For best results the older the adult the better
They then need to pull at your flappy bits of your facial region
Other participant to take a photo
See here for results, saving the best till last of course.
If you would like to know more about our collective inventiveness I can give you Sock Wars, Dobble with a difference, New market new voices, Dressing up like you've never done it before. I am expecting a phone all from Waddingtons any moment now!
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