Diary: Monday 13 July
For some reason we have amassed enough milk to feed an army. Inevitably, with the relentless pace of camp life it is easy to ignore the loosely screwed milk bottle top.
Welcome to Day Four. It’s a bit like skiing for the first time. After the initial excitement has worn off, the pain sets in and this is the day you start questioning your commitment.
The morning starts with this mess in the fridge and I ask myself if I am going to cry over spilt milk.
Drama queens need not apply for this job. The weather is unreliable, the toilet is not en-suite, there is often grass in your food and some of the boys always want to have the last word.
Added to this is the sheer volume of food required to keep the boys fuelled up and ready to go…
…and though I don’t want to mention it again, I do need to say the washing up is grim. Not only the pots, pans, cups and plates, but the initial wet weather has not helped, requiring the leaders to centrally drying some of the clothes, shoes and especially tea towels.
The boys were kept busy with an activity day at the UK Sailing Academy.
Dinner du Jour: Campfire potatoes and chocolate cake in oranges. This whole subject of cooking over a wood fire will be explored in a separate post, along with some recipes.
Quote du Jour: In Cowes I had the best milkshake. It was a chocolate and hazelnut milkshake. It was a yoga milkshake.