Falling Up a Stile in Style

This year, the weather has been particularly poor. Days of wind, rain, gloom and occasional sun. No two days have been alike. Even the hardy Brits amongst us have shunned the idea of leaving the house without a waterproof. But the joy of having a camper van is just taking to the road when the weather looks even a little bit promising. 

Friday afternoon we checked the weather forecast, collected Buttercup and packed our things. 

Since turning 40 last summer, I've been compiling a list of 40 things to do/places to go now I'm 40. One of the places I found out about recently that I've never visited is the Crook O'Lune near Quernmore. Despite spending numerous weekends around the Trough of Bowland as a child and my second year of University at Lancaster Uni, this little gem had passed me by... This became the destination for Friday night.

Having set off late to avoid the escaping rush hour and holiday traffic we pulled into a peaceful layby near The Crook. There were no streetlights and the sky was perfectly clear. As we lay on the bed looking out of Buttercup's rear window we had a fantastic view of the starscape. Even better, I saw my first ever shooting star. 

The following morning we awoke to glorious sun. The Crook O'Lune was calling. This really is a beautiful little spot. The car park (no overnight parking) is just £1 and there is a little information map and cafe. Heading down the path to the river you have many choices. Walk up stream or down stream on either side, the choice is yours. 

We chose to head upstream away from the picnic groups and the actual crook itself. Ambling down the steps to the path we soon found ourselves walking along the grassy path next to the river. As with most country paths, this soon led to a stile. I'm used to stiles. I've climbed many of them very successfully all my life. Today however proved a bit difficult. Don't ask me how because I just don't know, when lifting my right leg to step onto the stile I cracked (and I mean cracked) my right knee. It was like cracking your funny bone but on a whole other scale, involving me hopping on the spot and biting my lip. I'm sure the swans on the river thought I was slightly mad. Since then it has gone purple and now a kind of grey/black colour...lovely!

Back to the scenery. It really was lovely. The only sounds were the running water and the occasional groups of families enjoying the surroundings. We eventually came to another little crook where the water ran smoothly and I had no choice but to go for a paddle (in my wellies!) 

The sun shone down and the sound of the animals was the only noise. It was like an orchestra of sheep, cows and ducks.

As much as we could have stayed, our journey took us onwards to Haweswater in the Lakes. Another glorious spot and perfect for campervans. The car park is small but it is used as a base for many wild campers (mostly in tents) so there is no issue about where to stay. 

As the sun was still beaming down we set off once more for a walk. As we knew it was going to be a gentle stroll we'd packed some chocolate and wine for the way. 

Having chosen a path that we thought would lead us to the little beach area we soon found that the bridge across the river had long since collapsed. This left no option but to climb over a barbed wire fence and cross using the new bridge. I have to point out that at this point NO wine had been consumed! Dom being tall and leggy was able to negotiate the fence no problem. Now my turn. Dom very kindly took my hand to help me over the fence and using my right foot (that old enemy again) I pushed off from the fence post with such velocity that we both lost our balance and fell in a heap on the, thankfully, grassy ground. Bursting into laughter we picked ourselves up reassured ourselves that the wine and chocolate remained in one piece and set off once more.

I'm sure you'll agree it was worth it ...

Whenever we go for a little trip out in our lovely van I can't help but think how lucky we are. It really is the perfect way to see the countryside. You don't need a grand plan, just a vague idea of a destination. Half the fun is the journey. Until the next one, we'll bid you a fond farewell

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Unleash the Beast!

Last time I blogged, we'd had an eventful weekend in Wetton and Bedfordshire including hills, breakdowns and a wedding.

This blog sees us back in Wetton for the Toe Wrestling Festival! Yes, you read that correctly - toe wrestling. Surprisingly enough, the reaction from most people has been disbelief, laughter and downright curiosity. Prepare yourself for a guide to all things toe and foot related.

The Toe Wrestling Festival is not a new thing. The Royal Oak at Wetton had been the proud host of this event for several years. But like many local events, it grew to epic proportions and it was decided that the village simply couldn't cope. Enter Dom's friend Ian, the new landlord of The Royal Oak, who decided to bring back this quirky but undeniably fun festival.

We arrived as a group of six campers on the Friday night, enjoyed some fine ale and wine and took ourselves off to bed in preparation for the big event. In typical English summer style, the day dawned sunny, then cloudy, then hot, then cool. The bunting was erected, the marquee prepared with tables, mini-bar and kegs and the public started to arrive.

As my back is notoriously bad, I was the only one from our party who didn't enter the actual event. However, I did get a ring side seat and photographic evidence. 
First everyone's feet had to be examined by a chiropodist to make sure they were fit to take part (it's serious stuff!) 

Being seen by the chiropodist before us was a well built, muscular, bearded man draped with a Union Jack Flag. On the side of his right foot was a tattoo baring the words "Unleash the beast". It was pretty apparent that here was the Current World Record holder. 
As the men were called into the marquee, my poor other half Dom heard his name called out against none other than the beast himself. Locking big toes on the right foot and raising their left foot, the battle to force their opponent's right foot to the side began. It's fair to say, the round didn't take long! The event was then repeated on the left foot. Suffice to say, Dom did not come home with the flag. The Current World Record holder retained his Wetton title although the final between himself and a local musician was hard core and frantic. 

The girls in our group faired no better being paired against previous winners of the female title. Not surprisingly, the women's final was between said previous winners. In a game that surpassed the men's for excitement and grit, the final was eventually decided. The runner up left the field with a hobble! Toe Wrestling is not for the weak!

Buttercup's second trip to Wetton was just as eventful but for a very different reason. I can't help but wonder what will happen next time we come...

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