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Well, that's all the camping capers for now. In Blackpool now for the annual reunion of the "Cumberland Ex-Servicemen's Club" - should be a giggle. From now on I'm back blogging on www.benidormclassbceleb.blogspot.com

North Summercotes or somewhere To Mablethorpe

After pitching the tent on a wasps nest at the last place I'm becoming a little weary of the wildlife shearing my living space. From the black beatles that seem to love the inside of my hat, the spider in my oxtail soup today - spit it out yer bastard! the Daddy long legs that live in my shoes and the ants down my pants their all Gods creatures I suppose but I don't want em. Add to the list these tiny black flies that got in my eyes, ears and intimate little crevases today - and buying an ice cream was out of the question. Mind yer, they're probably cleaner than me, with me grubby trousers, me walking top that's full of holes and muddy shoes (I was followed round the aisles by the staff in Costcutter today), I think I've turned into an undesirable as they say.

Anyway, the party ends here for the time being as I'm miles over budget and I'm heading home tomorrow (have to be back in Blackpool for the Cumberland Bar reunion at the weekend), I politely asked the bloke at reception here at the campsite where the train station was - "Skegness" came back the reply. So it looks like another long day - would have walked to Skeggy in normal circumstances but I haven't got a map, and lets face it I'm bad enough WITH one, so that's out of the question.

Harbrough To Cleethorpes

I've never been to Cleethorpes before and I thought it was all rather dandy. Was a bit surprised by it actually, for once it was a gloriously sunny day, I met up with my old pal, ex Pontins sparring partner and full on loon Terry Ferguson, who regaled with tales of his recent holiday in Afghanistan amongst other things. We had Guinness, Caffreys, Worthingtons and fish chips and mushy peas don't yer know. It almost made me forget of the foul mood from earlier when I went to the wrong campsite.

It is now pissing down again as I write this at half 6 in the morning, and am now looking at a 15 mile jaunt to North Summercoates (?).

Hull To Barton-Upon-Humber

Only I could fail to find the fifth largest bridge in the world! - TWICE! - Well, it wasn't that I couldn't find it exactly, it was just that I couldn't find the bit where you actually get on it, then again I'm simply not happy unless I'm walking round in circles for at least an hour a day, so I was fairly well satisfied.

With spot on Sit-Com timing it started to rain as soon as I stepped foot on the bloody thing (as predicted), at first it didn't seem so bad and I simply pulled my green paddy field hat down a notch or two and strode manfully on. Within a minute or two however it was bucketing it down and I hopped about on one leg as I battled with the suddenly strong wind whilst attempting to put my over trousers on with one hand and my cagoule with the other - it crossed my mind at this point that I could end up in the river - and it's one hell of a big un.

As I neared the other side after the best part of 45 minutes bent double against the elements the wind suddenly dropped, the rain ceased and for a few seconds the sun tried to muscle its way through. Mind you mother nature took the piss once more as it bounced it down again just as I'd neatly folded the cagoule back into its little pouch and zipped it up into the rucksack.

As I write, I am tent bound once more and face at least another 15 hours reading, (can't listen to the cricket cos that's rained off an all), staring at maps and counting beatles and spiders.

WISH YOU WERE HERE - Kev.