Day Three:
Awoken by the bells of the Wimbourne Minster clock striking. I’m relieved that I slept well. The grass was flat and twig free, a welcomed bonus from yesterday’s #parkwildcamp. I sat up and feel pumped. Alive. For a. Voice in my head said that this was turning into a real adventure. And it’s only Day 3.
What’s more I knew I was heading to the beach later in the day.
Weymouth was my destination. There to see a uni friend and to meet her son for the first time. Louis. But before that Maria called out “ Good Morning bike Man” and a few moments later brought out some hot tea. We chat and exchange pleasantries before my pack is on and the pedals begin to slowly turn. I put on a brave face as I wave goodbye. But my bum is sore. Red raw. And my legs. Oh my legs are tired from yesterday’s hills. While my body is in a different place to my mind I set off again and everything warms up to a point where my physical strength reaches my mental state.

By 2pm I’m in Weymouth and find myself stocking up in M&S’ buying their finest quiche along with sugary drinks and a large packet of Percy pigs. I wait and nap on the beach as I wait for Hannah to finish work. It’s short yet perfect catch up as Louis is a charmer. But the Adventure must continue. My backpack remained unpacked in Weymouth but felt a good 10kg heavier as I slowly ascended the steep hills out of Weymouth.
Evening then begins to turn to night and so I pitch up in the wild. How was I to know that this was going to be the wildest night of camping. E V E R.