This year I suggested to Jackie that we camped at the Weird Weekend instead of staying at a B&B or a hotel. This shocked Mrs H as she knows that I am not the world's greatest outdoors person and that I am as keen on camping as I am on athlete's foot, which is not very much.We booked up with the Dyke Green Camp Site in Clovelly, which is managed by a thoroughly nice chap called Mr Johns. We had a terrific time, except for the wasps. Jackie doesn't mind wasps but I can't stand the little buggers. Bees are different for like the German Stukas of WWII, they have a siren that warns you of their imminent approach. Wasps are different. They are silent but deadly, and serve no useful purpose other than to piss off this blogger.
On a regular basis they would fly into our tent via a small
aperture at ground level and buzz around my head. Mrs H asked me why I didn't simply, "psychically tell them to go". I said I'd much rather physically twat them with a rolled-up newspaper.But we also had another little visitor. On Monday morning, just before we set off for home, Jackie noticed what she at first thought was a grasshopper in our tent. On closer examination, however, we realised that it was nothing of the sort. It was, in fact, a ladybird-like beetle the likes of which we'd never seen in Geordieland. It was grass-green in colour and quite happy to walk about on your hand.
Our verdant interloper was quite cute, actually, but we haven't a clue what it is. I've attached two photographs, and I'd be interested to hear from readers regarding what it might have been….
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