Sleeping in Bunkbeds

I have recently spent an abnormal amount of time for a 36 year old woman sleeping in bunkbeds. This weekend was yet another one of those moments.
Myself and 11 other lucky people headed to Cumbria which is above above the lake district and close to the scotish borders on a angle. We stayed in a giant converted barn which could have slept 24 but this time did not need to. We discovered that you could indeed get a supermarket to deliver groceries to a barn that was at the top of a dirt track, that there is always one member of the group that will want to clamber and hang like a chimp from the beams. That you can indeed over fill balloons so that they randomly pop and that one member of the team will display a bit of a rubber fetish.

That the average British man cannot bbq so needs to be directed by myself on how to prepare the bbq and the order of which you should put things on so that they cook.
That a quiz when you are blind drunk is fun and that standing around a camp fire singing like a retard is also amusing

Having a friend trying to barter me in order to gain something quite scary (it was at that point that I decided I was worth more than the average camel)
Now that I am a lady of leisure I am building up the courage to go back to learning to drive lose the weight I gained this year before my ass is international designated as a small country and just generally relax for a few months

Leave the welcome mat out you never quite know when I might be rolling up to your city for a visit