The final night campsite

The final campsite was a rural affair.  Shaded by olive trees and a difficult pitch to say the least.  Next to me was this ‘hobo’ of a bloke who seemed to have a bivvy tent, a couple of nylon quick dry outfits and a pair of trainers to his name.  Nice fella but in the morning he did several press-ups, rubbed a stick vigorously with his hands and then ate part of a cured meat stick thing.  Seemed happy enough.  I think he went walking all day.  Maybe, dunno.



Me?  I was surrounded by a thousand hanging things!  You can’t put stuff on the ground as animals decide to eat them.  Unless its the locals of course.


Leave a Reply