The only news of note is that we saw a vet today in Alcester, who removed Raisin’s hanging nail/claw with a quick pull, checked her over and declared her fit and well. The nail is already growing back, the vet said. I kept the old one even though it looks like a mutant crustacean.
There was bunting up in the town, which seemed appropriate, and I celebrated my relief by buying some decent food for Raisin in a well stocked pet shop. It’s heavy to carry (2kg) but better than the stinking brown sludge that is Pedigree Chum (and that’s before it’s been through the dog).
On the way to Alcester, Droitwich Spa looked pleasant by the canal, and after a few miles on a busy B road we passed into Warwickshire and pretty villages such as Feckenham and Sambourne. Our campsite is near the National Trust’s Coughton Court, a Tudor house, and we caught a glimpse going past.
When we arrived at the camping field there was just a chap under an awning eminating from his Range Rover, and a closed up tent. I chose a pitch away from what I thought was the rather overstated mock Bavarian toilet block, and was surprised when the site owner turned up and said the facilities were in the opposite corner, through a gap in the hedge. A bit later a dozen or so hens appeared on the field, near the strange building, and I wondered if it was in fact a posh chicken shed.
As things were quiet, I took the opportunity to have a shower, taking Raisin with me. The lights in the toilet block dimmed when I turned it on, although the mildew on the shower curtain was still visible in the semi darkness. No matter, the wash was much needed and most welcome. Range Rover man was lying in a box on top of his car when we came out, apparently wearing only shorts and socks but I didn’t like to look too closely.
Two chaps and three children turned up in a builder’s van and proceeded to put up their tent accompanied by music from the van stereo. They went out to collect firewood for a bucket brazier but the music has been on ever since and is irritating. I am too tired to say anything; I don’t think it will keep me awake. Meanwhile Range Rover man has told me all about his car, which has a pull out kitchen, a clothes rail behind the front seat and many other modifications I have already forgotten.
My legs hurt from the effort today, although it was only 30 miles, and it is wet and chilly here. As usual, I can’t see a good way forward for tomorrow – all the options look too hard when I’m tired. If I had a Rangerover I would bundle my wet tent and all the gear into it after a little sleep, and drive straight home.