We started our journey with the Hay Festival at the end of May, and I'm sorry to report I have nothing amusing to share, because it was all good. In fact, this was our best Hay Festival visit ever. The weather was good. The camp site was perfect. The talks, all of them, were excellent. I can't tell you about floods or mud or flapping canvas, because there was none of that.I remember the year when, after returning home, mid-week, to do the accountancy thing for my employers, I rushed back to the caravan for the second weekend and forgot to bring the keys for the caravan security lock. I remember the year we forgot to take sweaters and waterproofs and wellies – that was the year they had to get the local fire brigade to pump out the water from the festival site. I remember the year, every year, complaining about being unable to see the whole festival because I could never get time off from work.
Well, none of that. I no longer have the time-off-work problem. We've found the perfect camp site. It didn't rain – not much, anyway. So I'll just share some photos and leave it at that.
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| Hay-on-Wye: Looks just like France, doesn't it? |
Oh, except to say, that the day we left Hay and headed south, the weather took a turn. Biblical rain. Then hurricanes and stuff. But you'll have to wait for that part.
