A Test of Friendship

We have spent many a weekend with our friends the Thompsons. Once we lived in County Durham, in a village next door to theirs, had our first children within a year of one another. Now we live hundreds of miles apart.

All our youngsters are living independently. Hannah even got married. So nowadays it is just us four old codgers meeting up.

We meet in the Peak District since it is half way between.

Since it was July, we decided to camp.

The forecast looked okay. Perhaps a little rain on Sunday.

Not long after we had pitched our tents on Friday, watery clouds began to frown-out the sun.

We checked the forecast – some rain now on Saturday too.

By Saturday afternoon, we had retreated early from our hike.  Wet and listless we explored Bakewell, crowded with damp tourists.  

Then we began to get the hang of it – basically the forecast had been wrong- it was going to rain heavily all weekend.

Well, now we knew.  We made plans for Sunday – we’d go to Haddon Hall where there was also an “Artisan Fair” (like a craft fair but without the teasel hedgehogs and decoupage) and then on to the cinema to see Yesterday.

The guides at Haddon Hall crammed us with interesting anecdotes, the artisans told us their secrets – how to hunt problem gulls with a lanner falcon, how to fly fish for brown trout.  Best of all, we met several alpacas, making their weird humming bleats.

Yesterday was entertaining and its (many) flaws gave us plenty to discuss.

Then on Monday morning, at last the sun shone.  We walked miles, took all our photos and dismantled our tents in the dry.

“Monday will be the day we remember!” said Carolyn.

But I’m not so sure – I’ll always hold onto the memory of good friends who were able to make even a wet weekend in tents fun.