The last weekend of the year that our favourite New Forest campsite is open usually coincides with the New Forest Marathon. Which is nice.
So we spent a top weekend in the forest, stuffing ourselves with the delicious ripe blackberries, finding many varieties of mushrooms (that we didn't consume) and being amazed at the almost impossibly big and bright moon. Admittedly it was a bit chilly overnight, but we were entertained by several peculiar wildlife noises - deer we suspect, among others.
The marathon itself is always lovely, though I found it very tough. My cold apparently hasn't gone away yet after all, but is lingering maliciously. It was pretty windy out too. Lots of really enthusiastic marshals and great company made for a superb day. A bit annoying to get rained on as I rode home on the motorway, but at least it wasn't too heavy.
Why are weekends only two days long? I really enjoy them, but would enjoy longer ones even more...