The fist night in the tent was at Lake Windermere, and it was a cold one. At a couple of degrees below zero, there was frost on the tents and on the chicken-wire tread of the boardwalks. In some ways I regretted leaving my boots and socks to dry in the hut overnight – the 200m walk to retrieve them was... refreshing.
The fist night in the tent was at Lake Windermere, and it was a cold one. At a couple of degrees below zero, there was frost on the tents and on the chicken-wire tread of the boardwalks. In some ways I regretted leaving my boots and socks to dry in the hut overnight – the 200m walk to retrieve them was... refreshing.
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