There are fewer simpler ways of camping than the humble bivy bag, and nothing is better than sleeping under the stars and waking up to the sound of the surf. So this weekend we headed North of Newcastle, to a small coastal village. A pub supper eased down with half a dozen of the counties finest ales and we headed to the beach. The air was surprisingly warm for March, and not a cloud in the sky.
Half way through the night, I woke to the dreaded bivy sound, the pitter-patter of rain. There’s not much you can do, but hunka down and try to stay dry….
We woke to the sound of the sea….
As we packed up, to walk back to the car, a cafe and hot fresh coffee, it started to snow. Lightly at first, but soon it was all white…