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Published: July 26th 2011
Funny to you, not so for me.
17th June 5.15pm St Davids
I am trapped. It has been raining all day, and I mean ALL FUCKING DAY! It’s been chucking it down from when the wind and rain battered me awake in the morning until now at just after 5pm. Speaking of my rather rude awakening in such foul weather, as if it wasn’t unpleasant enough in itself I immediately had to deal with another pressing issue; a quite urgent need to urinate. Now I certainly wasn’t going to dash out in my underwear in such conditions, and the wind and rain were such that even the old open-both-tent-flaps-and-kneel-out-the-side trick was looking dicey at best. Not being in possession of a bottle I was willing to dispose of afterwards and quickly running out of time to come up with a solution, I ended up improvising with one of the zip-lock plastic bags I had in pack. Needless to say this was a rather awkward, precarious exercise. Now while I’m sure this is all high comedy to you, let me assure you there is nothing funny about kneeling in small tent and pissing into and then doing up a lunch bag while desperately trying not to spill urine all over the cramped space that you will be occupying for the next fortnight or so.
Urination manoeuvre with a difficulty of 4.5 completed, and scoring myself a 6.0 for improvisation and execution, I huddled back down in my sleeping bag with a sigh of relief and went back to sleep for a few more hours. When I finally did get up I gathered my things together and made a dash for the indoor area at the top of the campsite. It may have been pissing it down, but at least there was a large room where I could stay warm and dry, cook, eat, read and sleep for the rest of the day, which I verily did, so silver lining and all that.
The only other thing to comment on is the sheer volume and persistence of the Welsh rain. Having lived in the north of England for several years, believe me when I say that I’m no strange to a good spot of rain, but this was just on another level. Normally when one complains of it ‘raining all day’, it implies a few patches where things at least ease off a bit for a while and one can at least scurry hurriedly from one sheltered place to the next with a look of squinty discomfort plastered across one’s face, but not here. Hour after hour the rain fell and the wind blew to the extent that I was beginning to wonder if the whole campsite wouldn’t be washed away into the foaming sea of the bay it overlooked.
However, as I write this and after a mere 12 hours of constant downpour (at a conservative estimate), precipitation levels seem to have lowered to the point where might be possible to leave the building without drowning. In light of this wondrous fact I shall prepare dinner, eat and then attempt to make it in to town for the evening before the whole awful show starts up again.
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