The river Usk at Usk

(Backblip) We went off site today, as I'd managed to bring the large stove without the bottled butane gas, which was still in my shed at home, and the small gas canisters without the screw-on stovetop (it had fallen under the bed while I was packing on Wednesday). The prospect of having to buy all our hot drinks at festival prices was too dreadful to contemplate. We'd had a similar cock up in 2019, and I wasn't going to suffer again. Mea Maxima culpa.

Our camping neighbours lent us their stove for the first coffee of the day, then we drove to the pretty town of Usk, because there isn't a camping shop in Chepstow. Turns out that the one in Usk is actually 13 miles further away, in the countryside, at a garden centre. Never mind, we had a pleasant drive along the back roads, and another coffee when we got there. The type of stovetop I wanted was not available, so we got one of the posh ones with canisters, and some bungee cord for K. Returned to Usk, parked the car, and headed for the river Usk. Walked along until we found a small 'beach', waded across to the rocks on the other side, and attempted to swim. I think it was more suitable for paddling, to be honest. The water was so low, and weedy in places, that even in the middle of the river, my knees scraped along the bottom. K has a thing about wild swimming (she had it years before lockdown, and swims in Scottish lochs near her house) so we'd ticked that box, and I enjoyed sitting on the rocks in the sunshine. After that, we explored the charity shop (lots of finds) the supermarket and the Italian ice cream shop. Retrieved the car from the rugby club grounds before it got locked in, and returned to the festival near Chepstow. Somehow by the time we'd had 'lunch' of sausage and egg sandwiches, and hit the festival arena, it was already 7 o'clock. That's the great thing about being on holiday: time is immaterial..