That's typical of transporter people fairy lights hung on their awning. Each to their own Marge. The campsite is an interesting habitat and the behaviour of its campers entertaining not always in a good way. We can see you picking dead skin off your feet whilst we eat our breakfast! Even though we were leaving the Oxford campsite this morning we were presented with cardboard crowns and a platinum jubilee flag. Forced fun. We hate it!
Today we had a drive of around an hour and a half to the racecourse at Stratford upon Avon. We weren't expecting the show we were attending to have too many people camping at it. Mistake. It was rammed!
Walking out we stopped to talk to a couple with a Ptarmigan cabin on the back of an old army lorry, they were in the process of converting it into an expedition vehicle. John had worked on these over thirty five vehicles years ago at Airtech and spent a long time talking to the owner whilst Angela put the world to rights with his wife.
This evening the atmosphere is charged, the music loud, the burning charcoal catching in your throat the sight un describable. We'll let the photographs over the next few days show you this. Meanwhile we need to show her off to a man whose just noticed Marge.
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