seven go mad by the sea

I suppose the lesson learned from this weekend is that - despite the lingering feeling that one can always expect them to be wrong - it's worth taking heed of weather forecasts. Just back from a bank holiday camping holiday in Somerset with Anne-Sophie, Rich, Siobhan, Vic, Andrew and Morgan, and feeling bruised and battered by the wind and rain, my joints aching and my head a fog; part hangover, part fatigue. There were moments - sat in my tent while it was buffeted from all sides by a crashing gale, or packing up in the rain - when I really felt that it wasn't worth it, but the overall feeling is: that it was a terrific idea, weather and all. Very nice to get away from Brighton and to see another part of the country, and particularly lovely to do so surrounded by some of my best friends. We timed the trip really fucking badly; heavy traffic, heavy weather, but lots of moments redeemed the negatives. Here are three, with more, and some photos, to follow in due course:

1. Tasting the produce in a lovely cider farm just outside Weston Super-Mare , and coming away with a 2 litre jerry can of dry cider.
2. Having a forward-roll competition on Brean Sands (I managed nine consecutively, a triumph of momentum, and a record at the time).
3. All seven of us sat in my tent last night, swapping stories, songs and cans of beer, and enjoying what proved to be a temporary lull in the weather.

Tired now. But feeling all the better for it.