Chrissy, I'm so Muddy

The yobs spent the morning putting gas canisters on their campfires, stirring us to what sounded like gunfire. They then proceeded to drag what they could manage out of camp and set their tents and remaining rubbish on fire as a parting gesture. I pity the poor people who have to clean that place up, and I think it is someone’s farmland. I hope they get paid well.

Being the nice, karma-conscious folk that we are, we gave our camping stuff to the Oxfam tent across from us. Do you hear that, people? JUST ACROSS THE GRASS! Honestly. We got spoiled rotten having all the peace-loving hippies the first weekend at Beautiful Days. Leeds was definitely not the same breed. Anna and Andy went on ahead of us to catch their train back up to sunny Scotland, and we caught a bus back to Leeds then a train to Harrogate. We originally planned to take off again straight away and were just going to pick up our packs which Chris & Charlotte had kindly hidden for us. But there was mud in parts of us we didn’t want to know about, so we booked another night and fought over the shower.

Our next quest was to find a laundrette because everything we owned was caked in mud. Would you believe there are no laundrette’s open in a tourist town such as Harrogate on bank holiday Monday? Me neither. We trekked all over town and found one that had its door open a crack. We peeked in and the owner said that since he was there doing some sorting, we could pop in a load. Bless him! It cost us money that would make my mother faint, but I think she would rather I was clean.

We got something to eat at Yates’ and headed back to the hotel to hang out with lovely Simon in the bar. We caught up and had cuddles and Baileys and cheap booze, watching bad music videos and caught Soti when he came in. We had a silly giggle and caught up on all the gossip and got Charlotte to come in after her shift to have a drink with us. Loveliness.

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