I woke that morning to find that the sun had gone awol and had been replaced by a very cloudy grey sky. I didn't mind too much though as I needed to get some supplies from Asda in Yarmouth so I could have a shopping day instead of going out exploring. I didn't go out until mid morning and it was still fine then but while I was walking round the shops in Yarmouth's main street a fine drizzly rain started. I'd parked the van a ten minute walk away at Asda and by the time I got back there I was just ever so slightly damp, but that was nothing compared to later on.
Leaving Sophie and Poppie back in the van I went into Asda to get my shopping and by the time I came out again it was raining quite hard. It looked like I definitely wouldn't be going anywhere else just then even if I wanted to so I just drove straight back to the camp site - and that's when I got a totally unexpected and unwanted surprise. When I went out I'd left the tent sitting on ground which was so dry and hard that I'd had difficulty knocking the tent pegs in when I set up camp, but now it was sitting in the middle of a small swimming pool a couple of inches deep and there were pools in several places around the field.
I knew the water wouldn't actually get into the tent as it's fully sealed with an integrated groundsheet and a high mud wall, plus there was a footprint groundsheet underneath it, but if the dogs and I had to splash through the pool get in it was inevitable that some of it would be transferred from outside via our feet. I didn't want a wet mess in the tent so I needed a solution, and quick.
As I'd just driven through the static caravan section of the site I noticed that one of the caravans at the end of the path near my tent had been taken off its pitch and there were lots of small flags left; it took me four journeys to get what I needed but within fifteen minutes I'd laid a nice little flagged path across the pool of water to the tent door. By the time I'd finished I was literally soaked through to the skin so as I couldn't get any wetter I got the camera and snapped a photo of the tent sitting in its pool of water, then I got my wellies out of the van in case I needed them later and the three of us went inside to get dried off.
An hour or so later I looked out of the tent door and was surprised to see that all the standing water had completely disappeared; the hard dry ground had eventually soaked it all up and my flagged path wasn't really needed but I left it where it was just in case - you never know when a flagged path might come in handy!
It was late afternoon when the wind arrived and as time went on it got so strong that I clipped the storm straps in place in the tent to stabilise it; it was pegged down very securely but I wasn't taking any chances. Although the rain eased off a bit it never really stopped and it was still at it when I took the dogs for their very brief bedtime walk - and when I snuggled down in bed a while later it was to the sound of the tent being severely battered by the wind.
About Me
- Tigermouse
- Hi! I'm Eunice and I live in Bolton, Lancashire, with my two dogs Sophie and Sugar and an assortment of cats - well it used to be Sophie and Sugar, now it's Sophie and Poppie. I first began camping back in 1997 when my then partner took me to Anglesey for my birthday weekend. We slept in the back of the car - a hatchback - using the cushions off the settee at home as a mattress, and cooked and brewed up on a single burner camping stove. The site was good, the views were great, the weather fantastic and I was completely hooked. Following that weekend we got a two-man tent and some proper accessories and returned to Anglesey two weeks later, then over time we progressed to a three-man tent followed by an old trailer tent, then a new trailer tent, a campervan and finally a caravan. When my partner decided that the grass was greener on the other side of the street - literally - in April 2009 and I suddenly found myself alone after fifteen years, I decided there was no way I was going to give up camping and caravanning if I could cope on my own. This blog is the story of my travels, trials and tribulations since becoming a solo camper - I hope you like it
Thursday September 15th 2016 - Southwold & Walberswick - Part 3
At the far end of the lower promenade I took the sandy path behind the last row of beach huts and cut across the dunes to the road which took me back to the harbour, and instead of taking the ferry back across the river I decided to walk all the way round. There was a cafe halfway along the harbourside and I was in need of a drink by then, so hitching the dogs to an outside table I went inside to order coffee and cake; I was just lucky too as the place was within minutes of closing.
I couldn't finish my day though without stopping to take a few shots of St. Andrews Church on the road through the village. Built into the ruins of a much older chapel I've always found it quite a fascinating place and worth taking a few minutes to explore the grounds. By that time the sun had lost some of its afternoon brightness and was taking on an early evening glow; most of the church itself was in shadow but I still got several shots of the older ruins, and a final shot of the interior finished off the day nicely.
For some reason I seemed to get back to the camp site quicker than I'd got from there to Walberswick, and with the van parked back by the side of the tent the three of us settled in for the evening. It had been a lovely day and I'd got some good photos of some lovely views but after all that walking and wandering it was nice just to relax and do nothing until the last short dog walk before bedtime.
At the top end of the harbour, and almost out of 'civilisation', was an attractive row of cottages set back from the riverside and with their own shingle driveway running in front; beyond those there was nothing but fields and marshes. The boat moorings ended by the bridge; there was no-one else around just then and as I crossed over I was struck by how quiet it was compared to further down river where the busy boat sheds were. With several photos taken as I walked along the Walberswick side of the river I finally got back to the van almost five hours after I left it, and after giving the dogs a drink I set off on my drive back to the camp site.
I couldn't finish my day though without stopping to take a few shots of St. Andrews Church on the road through the village. Built into the ruins of a much older chapel I've always found it quite a fascinating place and worth taking a few minutes to explore the grounds. By that time the sun had lost some of its afternoon brightness and was taking on an early evening glow; most of the church itself was in shadow but I still got several shots of the older ruins, and a final shot of the interior finished off the day nicely.
For some reason I seemed to get back to the camp site quicker than I'd got from there to Walberswick, and with the van parked back by the side of the tent the three of us settled in for the evening. It had been a lovely day and I'd got some good photos of some lovely views but after all that walking and wandering it was nice just to relax and do nothing until the last short dog walk before bedtime.
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