Ullswater

Side Farm Campsite, a sloping field on the south-east tip of Ullswater. We find a spot just above the lake, pitch the tent at the third attempt and head off for the afternoon steamer to Howtown.

We chug past yachts and islands, spots of rock with trees bent on top. The scenery is wonderful, but the kind that fatigues you when viewed from a distance for too long, and I'm glad when we reach the wooden pier at Howtown and can start the six-mile walk back. The path hugs the lake for most of the way, undulating through woods and fern-covered hillsides. The rain doesn't fall until we're nearly at the end.

That's the end of our luck with the weather. Later that night, as we play pontoon for shots of Asda-label rum (loser drinks) the skies open for real. Within half an hour we're wiping up mud with dirty socks and propping up the ground sheet using shoes and crates of lager. I wake in the morning with a sore back and an aching bladder. Outside is silent. Raindrops splatter the top of the tent.