The forecast for our weekend reunion with university friends was grey and drizzly. We met up with Nick and Jackie en route.
“Do we know yet whether we’re in a yurt or a tipi?”
“I hope it’s a yurt – with this rain I don’t want to faff about with smoke flaps and being open to the sky.”
We elected to follow their SatNav even though we are sceptical. The very fact that we doubted the SatNav should have ensured it got us there safely, but we ended up with the car nosing into a lane that said “unsuitable for motor vehicles.”
“Marvellous,” we cried, “Just like the stories.”
We got so lost trying to bypass the “unsuitable” track that we gave up and adjourned to a nearby pub. Was it my imagination or did everybody else in there look bewildered too?
“Do you think the pub has somehow interfered with the SatNav signal to collect more custom?”
Outside, rain spattered the windows.
“If we’re in a tipi, I’m turning straight round and driving home,” I announced.
Nick, Jackie and Nigel laughed nervously.
When, finally, we arrived in the wood with the tipis and the yurts, the site owner showed us to our… tipi!
Thankfully there was a wood-burning stove amid the rugs and cushions. Perhaps we would survive after all. In fact, although I’d been beefing about the tipi, what was worrying me more was how we would get on with all our strong-charactered friends for a long weekend. Time to walk down to the clearing and find out.
Read the latest chapter of Drolls and Weirds
or read from the start