Last minute decision and we were booked into Britchcombe near Uffington. Was fun trying to book in, leave about 2 hours for this as it can be a bit painful. Also ignore the sales pitch off the little old lady (actually very frightening little old lady)...and you don't need the flapjacks to supplement her sons uni fees. Or the tomatoes out of her greenhouse. Or want to donate to the save a gorilla fund box.
Anyway we were ordered to a field (there are 4) and left to our own devices to pick a pitch. We couldn't decide on the North side of the Eiger or the South facing Matterhorn, but decided to go to the top of the range as it looked peaceful
We are at the top of this pic on the North ridge (approx 3 miles away from the portaloos)
It appeared to be a lovely quiet pitch, so we set up Harry and Hattie, the hemp tents we had chosen for the 'sh*t little tent meet' (logic is we would never use them as we had much nicer tents. So we forced ourselves to stay in them, altho they resemble something that Postman Pat knocked together)
Barley is easily pleased as long as there is a bed
We took great care choosing the pitch and avoided the right side of the field due to the road. After tents were pitched we realised we had a road plus cattle grid about 10ft away. So every 20 mins there was a loud grinding rattling noise as people drove up to visit the white horse (directly behind us)
Looking down from the hill/road back towards the campsite
One night in Harry Hemp was enough for me, so I had a play with the ebay win of the week, the latitude.
A few bendy poles, throw the canvas on and he's all glamped in his technicolour dream coat
On Saturday we decided to trek up the hill to see the infamous white horse. Not as easy as it sounds, as horse is displayed at v strange angle, facing directly upwards. It was obviously originally designed by a 50ft giant. Having endured the steep walk up, it was compulsory to get a snapshot for the album. So here is his eye (be grateful I haven't bothered with the tail pic, as that is even more boring)
Found a few shortcuts on the way back, so dragged the poor dogs and Annie (camping buddy) as the crow flies.... Except it was lumpy and bumpy and got idea in head that there were adders waiting
Having wasted an extra 20 mins on the shortcut, proceeded to go up and down every crevice. Unfortunately as this meant passing from field to field, had a slight problem with Homer. He doesn't do stiles. Scep (another camping buddy) was hero and picked up my lard arse dog to pass him over.
Yayyy job done!
The only other walking we did was round the cargo shop in Wantage (full of lovely stuff for tent, so spent a couple of quid in here). Then we attacked Sainsburys and bought enough food to feed refugee camp. Speciality that night for Annie was beer can chicken. She stuffed beer can up chickens orifice, wrapped in foil then put on camp fire.
After an hour or so it was done. No meat thermometer was needed, as when the can totally disintegrated we figured it was ready. Is just as well we eat in the dark, as would be scary to see what we are actually putting in our mouths.
Both nights we were overlooking a huge firework display, had brilliant ringside seats and free entertainment. Day of departure the Red Arrows were due for a flyover at 11am. Decamped and waited...and waited...and waited...and gave up and went home
Actually campsite was bargain at £7 a night. May try the Himalaya's next, as have warmed to sleeping in scrunched heap at bottom of slope in inner tent
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