I’m afraid I am succumbing to my Summer distractions.

Cricket is now occupying a hefty chunk of my leisure time.

I was at Lords on Friday for the opening rubber of the T20 World Cup. It may have the traditionalists grumbling, but there’s clearly a role for this wham-bam, thank-you-mam form of the game.

The result may not have gone our way (what were you thinking, Stuart Broad?) but the Champagne and pies were most welcome.

I’ve also coughed up for Ashes tickets (and it was quite a cough) so weekends will be spent travelling to Wales and Edgbaston in the hope that England can dig deep and be true competitors in the long form of the game.

So that’s cricket, but the summer is also synonymous with long vigils by lakeside not catching any fish.

The season on the Cheshire lakes I fish is only a week or so away and the gear is nearly ready.

All this does not leave much time for the hills, so I was dismayed to find all my local camp sites booked to the gills this weekend. This is not confined to the weekends, either, as friends report that their favourite quite campgrounds are now being swamped, even on a mid week overnighter.

Is this a product of the recession and people shifting from cheap charters to the great (British) outdoors? Great for our domestic tourism, no doubt… not so great for those seeking a quiet corner.

I could risk a wild camp in the Peak District, I guess, but I know that landowners and rangers are proactive when it comes to policing the peat.

Who’d have thought nights under canvas would become quite so popular.


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