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The barbeque was soon under way followed by a splendidly robust fire. The latter was not started by my ‘Steel-of-Fire’ totally weatherproof survival tool which broke after a few strikes. That’s going back.
Al fished by torchlight and mother sat in her camping chair trying out several of her Christmas presents, purring like a contented pussy cat. The food was soon ready and we ate with appropriate passion around the fire.
A few hours later, we threw everything into the back of the Prado for the five minute journey back to the house. This sort of camping appealed to our Flossie - all the pleasures with a cosy bed and clean toilet.
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