Wednesday 26 June 2013

The final FRENZY

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FRENZY by Mark King
ISBN 9781846248771












Two nights of sleep Hell and my stiff and aching body slumbered slowly from my sleeping bag. After a bit of rocking and rolling I pushed myself up from the air-bed. By now I was so tired I was happy just to be awake. The previous night after the children had laid down there sleepy heads the wife and I spent another enjoyable evening just sitting in the middle of out tent sipping on our drinks as we read. The birds outside sang there good night songs and for a little while I was under the delusion that I could look forward to a peaceful sleep.

There was a gentle breeze that ruffled the canvas when I got up in the morning that gave no clue to the previous nights gale, but by that Sunday morning I felt as if I had been dragged through the gates of Hell, and back. Like I said it doesn't matter because as long as the children are happy, then you love the situation no matter how much your bones ache.

Another fried breakfast of egg and sausage sandwiches swallowed down with steaming hot tea left no one in any rush to start the task of packing up the car, or taking down the tent. We had to be off the site by 10.00 am but as it was now 9.30, and I was still finishing my cup of tea. I had a feeling we wouldn't be heading home for a while.

I had made arrangements to visit a friends house not far from our camp site. My friend is one of those dieing breads these days; he's a farmer. My son is mad about tractors, and always has been, so when I told Scotty about it he invited us to visit his pad so we could all look around his machinery.

At 10.00 the site staff were on their rounds in their electric buggy, a clear sign for all who hadn't started packing to do so now, and there followed two hours of FRENZY as everyone was roped into clearing the tent then packing it all back into the car. Well I should say more like stuff every thing back in, but by twelve we were on the road to Scottie's farm.

As we drove away the beautiful surroundings of Kelling Heath a part of me was glad to be heading back into contact with the real world while part of me had quite quickly settled down to the slower pace of life which in the week before I went I was dreading.

I can't explain what the attraction is of staying in a flimsy building that has no basic facilities while you struggle to even get a few hours sleep in a cold and uncomfortable bed, but as we drove out the entrance the only thing the family was talking about were the plans for our next camping expedition.

Regards

Mark


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