Wyatt’s campsite is now officially booked for the night after my round at Sandy Lodge, which is conveniently about 20 minutes away—plenty of time for my procrastination! I’ve got to be there by 8 PM sharp, or else I’ll have to pitch my tent in the dark and risk a close encounter with a raccoon. There’s a hook-up, so fingers crossed that I can power up all my gadgets: Leisure, Golf, my trusty iPad, and of course, phones—because how else will I keep everyone updated on my epic adventures (or misadventures)?
Chester Fairoaks has graciously accepted my reservation for three days in Chester, a place I’ve somehow avoided until now. I’ve managed to carve out two glorious days to whack a little white ball around and one day to frolic around town, soaking in the charm while pretending to be a local—hopefully without getting lost or mistaken for a suspicious tourist!
I’ve got a night lined up at Latham St Anne’s cricket club for their big debut match, even though they have more players than a friendly game of Twister! After that, I’ll be off to Blackpool, where I plan to revisit the historical landmarks of my childhood—like the North Pier, which has seen more wobbling than a jelly on a rollercoaster, and 97 Cocker Street, the place my grandparents called home. I swear, that house has enough ghost stories to fill a library!
My last booking is Yellowcraig, my Scotland base, which looks like a postcard by the sea—if you squint, ignore the seagulls stealing your chips, and pretend it’s not raining! The weather might have a say in how heavenly it truly is, but I’m packing my optimism along with my wellies!
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