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Of course, the nice thing about a walk on the moors is the potential views. However, when they include a sight of thunderous clouds like this lot, you sort of lose some interest. And when you reflect that the nearest road is maybe three miles away, over rough, stony ground, you just shoulder the rucksack and throw on your poncho with grim resolve, tightening all the straps and belting the poncho firmly.
Andy, of course, up here on the highest point of the moors, an area notable for a total absence of trees and similar lightning conductors, was using his nice, shiny, (pink!) walking sticks. “They’re carbon fibre,” he said. We disabused him.