So I'm laid on my mat, still in my sleeping bag in a tent in the middle of Leicestershire countryside, peering out at the cloudy sky and rolling green fields, thinking, " Lifes not so bad!" It's the start of October, the start of the dark mornings and cold nights, but the last few days have been idyllic. There's something so pure about camping- not the fill your car with every creature comfort sort of camping, but the walk to the campsite, with everything in your rucksack sort of camping. Waking up when it gets light, snuggling when it gets dark. Listening to the radio on Radio 5 live, above the rustle of the wind and feeling comforted that you are not at home getting irate about who Louis puts through to the final 16, but feeling that maybe the experience would be more pure without this damned phone.
There's a couple on the far side of the field, who appeared walking into the campsite with full packs, looking like they had been on the road for a while. She's got a mediterrean look about her, while he's got curly hair and thick beard. They're young, but you get the impression that they've done the usual India/ Thailand thing and , now they are just carrying on. Traveling the world in their two man tent, with nothing to show for it but late night stories in the dark, experiences of different people and different places, the sun, the wind and the rain- and, of course, their love.