Cold River Bath.

 

I climbed up into the hills today, the same hills I used to camp out in many years ago, sometimes with friends and sometimes not. It wasn't camping with a tent of course, just finding somewhere sheltered and then lying there till morning looking through the trees at the stars, confident in the vague hope that there were probably no strange characters wandering about. In the morning, stiff and sore from lying on the hard ground, the best remedy for the aches and pains was to jump into the freezing cold water of the Shimna river and stay there as long as possible and hope no-one was about to run off with my clothes. I've never felt so clean. Breakfast was fruit and the promise of coffee when I got back down out of the forest into Newcastle. I thought today of suggesting reliving that part of my youth to my wife and then thought better of it.