Packing up camp can be pretty fraught, believe me. Sleeping bags never roll up small enough to get back into their teeny weeny bags, you can never squeeze all the air out of the airbeds, even after a dry three week spell it rains the night before you pack up, and something always gets lost or packed away in the wrong place not to be found until you are unloading the car 48 hours later.
So when we got to our overnight accommodation tonight, it was no surprise that I couldn't find my hairbrush.
Me: I remember it being in a pocket of the inner tent and I threw it on top of the pillows.
Tony: I remember. I saw it in the boot of the car, near the front.
Me: well that's not good. We'll have to take the bikes off.
Tony: no its OK, I'll be able to reach it from the car.
After 10 minutes of searching inside a packed car, crouched over bags, boxes and a tent, we relented. The bikes would have to come off. There's no way I could wash my hair in the morning and not brush it; it's bad enough that I've run out of conditioner.
So, neither of us best pleased, the bikes came off. And the bike rack.
We almost emptied the boot of the car, but no hairbrush.
Me: it doesn't matter. I'll do without - use my fingers or something.
Tony: but I saw it!
Reluctantly, we repacked the car and rehung the bikes on the bike rack before going back to our accommodation to settle down for the night.
Tony went to get a bottle of wine from my back pack and pulled out...you've guessed it, the hairbrush.
Thankfully he was very gracious about it and we had a bit of a laugh, neither of us remembering putting it there.
Alls well that ends well, he said. Now, where's the corkscrew?
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