Why do I refer to this day as a “disaster” ?

Mainly because it was one of those days where my initial enthusiasm got beaten into a bloody pulp of despair as a result of endless treks through neck-high nettles, up slippery banks and through insect-infested swamplands.

In fact, the thought of it is so depressing that I can’t even bring myself to write about it.

The general gist of the day was to go out to Thrapston and do a shed load of caches. By mid-afternoon I’d been stung and bitten so many times that I just gave up and went home. Life’s too short. Even the supposedly easy drive-bys I tried for a while after stopping the walk proved to be a nightmare.

At the point I gave up, I’d found 40 caches. When I set off I’d hoped to find about 80.

To me, that’s a waste of a potentially good day out, and as a result I’ve never been anywhere near the place again.

The caches I found on the day were :