All too soon it seemed that it was time for us to pack up and move to our last destination. Before leaving, I went to take my last shower and prepare for the journey ahead. I went through the ritual - at no time is ritual more important than when you are in a communal shower block -have I got my shower gel? Have I remembered all of my clothes? Is my dirty underwear suitably secured inside my other things so that it doesn't fall out while I am crossing the field back to the van? Anyway, content that all was intact, I exited the shower cubicle...and there is some woman, naked as the day she was born apart from her towel, draped about her head turban style. Well, I don't think I am particularly prudish, but I have no stomach for other people's nudity so soon after breakfast! I mean, actually, there was plenty of room inside the cubicles to dress before leaving. Not only that, the door to the block was wide open and you wouldn't have had to try too hard to see in from the field, or children could have come in with their mums. I have decided she must have been a bit of an exhibitionist. Really, some people!
Before departing the Forest of Dean altogether, we opted to take a run out to Symonds Yat Rock. What can I say? The view was absolutely breathtaking and we spent a little while drinking it in before taking one of the short walks through the forest. My old mum always used to say that you should always leave the table wanting more and it was with a certain heaviness of heart that we wandered back to Maggie for the next leg of our mini-tour. Clearly the Forest of Dean was as reluctant to let us go as we were to leave. Sat Nav lady led us a merry dance as we tried to leave the area. Time and again we seemed to encounter road signs declaring "Symonds Yat 2 miles". I wondered if we would ever get to our destination. It took us much longer than we had anticipated, but finally, after being dragged through town after town, we arrived on the edge of the Peak District. The drama of the landscape was a breath of fresh air after driving through urban sprawl. Before too long, the skies turned a dark, sinister grey before the heavens started to open...
Maggie struggled a wee bit over the hills but finally brought us safely to our destination, Greenhills campsite just outside Bakewell. Tired and weary, we opted for a pizza delivered to the site for dinner and we washed it down with a long cool drink from the site pub, a welcome diversion at the end of a tiring day.
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