Fresh air is really tiring, you know? I never realised how much. A stroll over the hills, a pub lunch and a game of one-on-one football, and I was in bed by nine. That is, in Max’s bed. Well, sleeping bag, actually. They have that design nowadays, you know, where you can zip two of them together and make a double. It’s very efficient.
Listen to me, the field and trek salesman. I’d never imagined this day ending up the way it did. Or let’s say, I hadn’t dared to hope.
At the end of the astonishingly tiring day, we had an al fresco supper of cold meat, bread and fruit at the camping site. We sat comfortably on the blanket at the tent’s opening, munching slowly, drinking a couple of beers, chatting about what we’d seen and where we’d been. Nothing serious, nothing tense. But we were watchin
