We awoke early this morning to relative silence, meaning the rain had at least temporarily ceased. As there's no rest for the wicked, we immediately began our preparations for the day. I make no exaggeration when I say the moment (and I meant the moment!) we began dismantling the tent, the rain returned with a vengeance and consequently everything got wet through. Wonderful. Just wonderful.
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| Crack a smile, mate... |
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| Morale was low |
Breakfast provided temporary shelter from the typically British weather, though we knew we'd have to step back out into it sooner or later. Neither of us were expecting precipitation for the duration of the trip, so we made the decision, as we sat there in our shorts and short-sleeve jerseys, to find the nearest local bike shop and buy some more appropriate attire.
The moment we stepped back out of the shop donning our waterproofs, the rain bloody stopped. You just can't make it up. At least the forecast suggested the misery would soon end and true to its word, that's exactly what happened. As the day advance and we pedalled ourselves closer to our destination for the day (Ripon), the blanket of white above us gradually dissipated to show the lovely ocean of blue, back from a two-day holiday.
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| Our suffering had paid off |
After being rather underwhelmed by the campsite in Morecambe, we had completely the opposite reaction in Ripon. The sun was out to say hello. The campsite was situated in the middle of the countryside down a quiet country lane, away from any traffic noise and to top it all off, bunnies were hopping around the entrance to the site. The staff were pleasant and the facilities well maintained. Imagine the smiles on our faces as we pitched the tent next to the river Ure. The day couldn't have ended on a better note.
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| The campsite: Sleningford Watermill |
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