The rain is quite relentless. All night long it pounded on the roof of the van, and as of Thursday lunchtime it’s still going strong.  We went into Newport this morning to do some shopping, and scores of bedraggled festival goers were queueing for the buses to take them up to the site.  Some of them looked miserable, cold, and ill-prepared for the weather.

In one shop, the assistant said with a hint of a gloat – “I’ve heard it’s like a mud bath up there already.  That would put me right off for a start.”  Well, we haven’t got tickets for today, and the weather looks to be improved by tomorrow, and so we can only hope…

The shops we went in seem to be cashing in on the festival.  One shoe shop offered wellies at £11.99 a pair, and Morrisons had hundreds of bottles of water and cans of beer situated right by the cash tills.  Clothes shops had frilly, flouncy things in the window that  you’d only wear to a festival, and surprise, surprise, there was a big display of umbrellas right by the door!

We were going cycling along Ryde seafront this afternoon, but we’ve come back to the van to warm up.  The bikes are getting wetter and wetter out the back – what a difference to last year’s baking summer.  This year the U.K is living up to that famous saying: ‘You can tell when it’s summer in Britain, as the rain is a little bit warmer.’

The wind is cascading another shower of wet leaves onto the decking.  The thermostat that Sam put in last year is turned up high, and we’re watching the sea rolling and crashing down onto the beach below.  Thank goodness I’m not on the ferry!  Happy days.

 

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