It's 8.15 am and we have been awake since 5.30 as usual. The very noisy group next door are packing up, thank goodness. Twister, the campsite horse, has just trundled by hoping for treats: he'll probably be successful, but as the lot next door were feeding him whole apples yesterday I fear for his digestion. The peacocks have started squawking. The wood-cutting man has wandered by having a smoke. B is trying to pick the door lock once more, so that we can get on with our day without risking injury going through the crawl-through all the time. and it looks as if it's going to be another day of frustrations.