I barely slept last night. It was too warm to snuggle down completely in my sleeping bag to shut out the noise. It wasn't Hubby snoring - I'm used to that. It wasn't even the snoring from next doors tent - they went home today. It was the buffeting of a strong Northumberland wind on the end of the tent.
I lay awake for hours trying to convince myself the tent always makes the wind and the rain sound worse than it actually is and that conditions would ease before morning enabling us to dismantle the tent in dry calm conditions. WRONG!!!!
Our tent is a rather large 4 man tunnel tent with sturdy steel poles, a living area and an awning. Its a Sprayway Valley 4. To take it down, its a case of undoing all the guy ropes, taking out a few pegs and then gently drop it down pole against pole like a game on domino soldiers.
Great theory! But it doesn't work so well in a force ten! Hubby released the guy ropes, and we were about to grab the tent and hold on with all our strength when.....
The whole tent spiralled over our heads, firing tent pegs like missiles, narrowly missing some young boy innocently filling his water container at the nearby tap. I watched in horror, quickly calculating the total value of all the caravans and cars that stood between my tent and the sea as it hurtled towards them. I had visions of this oversized kite with steel poles making its way across the campsite, wrecking cars and tents and then and out to sea.
Fortunately, whether it just deflated, lost momentum or the wind eased for a moment I don't know, but it paused next to next door's caravan for long enough for us to both dive on it, grab it and wrestle with it.