1st october 2003from Kilvert's Diary, 1st October 1874 Alas, my own reminiscence of Chanctonbury Ring is cold rather than sweet. We camped there one early summer night, wondering exactly what would happen to us (there are stories of hauntings, UFO sightings, any old rubbish you care to make up - plus legend has it that the trees there cannot be counted, even though they were only planted in the 1760s). Personally I would have welcomed alien abduction when I started to freeze to death at about 2am, not having brought a sleeping mat. I tried to insulate myself from the ground by lying on a hand towel, with limited success. A fried breakfast at the Little Chef never tasted so good.
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