We awoke to dry weather. Again. This despite the dire warnings of storms overnight. I guess we've been lucky.
Packing up day is always a little sad as there's not enough time to do much constructive, but plenty of time to think about the end-of-camp process and all the laundry it produces. Still, the weather was fine.
The previous evening, a group of young people took over the two sites opposite. They had three tents, fours cars and eight people. I admired the precision with which they erected their tents and amalgamated the two sites for the group gathering, this was obviously something they'd done before. They were quite noisy, too, but it was just friends, or possibly family, having a good time, and celebrating a birthday, too. They were equally as noisy this morning as well, but to my great surprise they started packing up their gear (with the same precision they'd set it up), and I overheard one of them tell a passerby that they were packing up because of the forecast rain. I wondered if that was an altogether wise decision given the imprecision of the weather forecasts.
We had our lunch before starting to prepare to leave, and again I was surprised at how easily we do this now, especially compared to when we started camping. A place for everything and everything in its place is a good maxim. Hitching up is easier as well, and in no time at all we were easing off the site and making our way to the dump station.
There was a bit of a line up at the dump station, but no one was using the alternate side to the dumping area. I went to speak with the person ahead of me and asked if he minded me going around him to use the other side. It turned out that he was waiting to fill his water tank rather than dump, so I suggested that he use the alternate side of the water point for that, too. So, I went around, and he followed, and the line up evaporated - more camping experience coming into play.
As I was dumping our tanks out, I started to chat with a man who was using the regular side of the dump facility. I detected a British accent, but failed miserably when I accused him of being English; he was was, in fact, Welsh. I apologized profusely, because that's an awful mistake to make, although perhaps no worse than people accusing me of being Australian. Anyway, he turned out to be from Swansea, and he lived in Chatham, so we bonded over the poop as it flowed into the underground vaults. Nice to meet you, Anthony.
So relaxed was I as we headed home, north up Kent Bridge Road, that I didn't realise I was only doing 60kph, and not the 80kph limit. In these here parts, speed limits are the minimum speed you drive at, and I'd collected quite a line of cars behind me, so I thought I'd better step on it a bit. It was windy, too, although still hot and dry. I was glad that I'd firmly tightened the anti-sway bars because the crosswind was tugging at us a fair bit. People always assume that towing uphill is a problem, when in reality going downhill is harder, as is driving in any kind of strong wind. The Airstream is more slippery than all other travel trailers, but you can still feel crosswinds and headwinds quite markedly.
Back home it was hotter than at the lake, and it was seriously sweaty work unhitching and unloading, but you have to do what you have to do.
We went on this trip to unwind from the excitement of a month in England, and I think that aim was achieved. We were also quite glad to be away from the campground with the Canada Day weekend upon on us, there wouldn't have been an empty site in the whole place. The weather looked set fair for the eager campers, so, Happy Canada Day one and all!
