29th September, 2008
Under the stars & over the moon
After the traumas of the last few weeks, I’ve been itching to just get away and get out of Nottingham. Its many months since I first suggest that the whole gang go camping, but this weekend we finally got the Defender, the Datsun and, erm… the Peugeot, and set off up North, mob-handed.
Our trip was a blast from start to finish, taking in the spooky ruins and fishy smells of Whitby, the smuggler’s coves and shanty-singers of Robin Hood’s Bay, and the vast moorlands and curious holes of the North Yorkshire Moors National Park. This part of the world is stunning all year round, but for our trip to coincide with an incredible sunny and warm blue sky dream of a late-September weekend was something none of us expected (though we all took our shorts just in case).
At no point did we even mention the internet, computers, clients or work, seeing as we’ve actually become friends first, colleagues second. So, we were too busy having real japes. Drinking ale and dodgy cider from plastic containers; cooking steaks on fires and consuming massive stews; doing keepy-ups or batting a ball; playing guitars or singing sea shanties; hunting for crabs in rockpools; walking through enchanted pitch-black woods to find strange pubs, and getting covered in wet dog. That is - as they say - how we roll.
All in all, this was a perfect weekend that couldn’t come soon enough for me. It made me a little sad at times, as I spent quite a few family holidays on that wonderful coastline, but with good friends around I didn’t dwell on those thoughts for too long. Now then, back to the grindstone…