DoE

Okay, Wikkid.X has already detailed the horrors of Wales when on a Duke of Edinburgh expedition (here and here), and I don't have much more to add. Well, except for my huge thanks to our lovely group-leader teacher, who kept smiling through the torrential, monsoon-style rain and evil ten-foot vampire demon cows covered in chainsaws.

And my eternal hatred (well, extreme dislike) of Mr. Pathetic-weedy-scouser-with-a-lisp continued with more ammo. Not only did he give us tents that house one less person than they needed to (resulting in three people in a tent made for two, and four in a *freezing* three-man tent), and no fuel burners so we were tired, frozen and starving by the end, but he then lectured us about being soaking wet from the monsoon.

Okay, I get that waterproof trousers are the best thing since sliced bread, but seriously, removing huuuge backpacks and boots in the middle of a muddy cow field? No chance. He lectured Megan who was so cold and wet that she looked half dead. He then argued with me when I explained why we didn't put on said waterproofs.

I think the 'argument' stare is genetic. My dad is as good at it as I am. Mr. Pathetic had also told us off for putting our bags in a part of the tent where they touched the outer layer, when, had we not, we would have had no room to breathe or move inside the tent. When I asked "why?", he told me specifically, "never say 'why' to me again!"

So, of course, Emma called 'why?'. It might well have contributed to Mr. Macho-outdoorsy-tech-git hauling us out in the middle of the night for 'infuriating him with our disrespect' (also my fault for making Georgia laugh while he was talking to us).

Yeah, I hate those two far more than I hate Welsh rain.

Phew, okay, I think that's it for now. New story might be up later.... I don't know.