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Teplóóó, Londýn zasiahla vlna horúčav a najlepšie na svete je momentálne to, že mám skúter. Žiadne preplnené vlaky k moru, parky napraskané rozhorúčenov populáciou a spotené metro… nene, pre mňa prišiel čas naskočiť na skúter a ísť do polí…

I had a business meeting in Andover on Friday, which was like an open invitation to spend the weekend out in the country. My top box easily accomodated my tent, sleeping bag, toothbrush and a pair of clean socks. And so I went, having the idea that maaayyybeee, this time I can make it all the way to THE island…

There is nothing unusual about the weather forecast being wrong in UK. In fact, the MET office can easily employ an army of fortune tellers and base their forecasting software on readings of colourful flashes from their crystal balls and I’m sure noone would notice any increase in inaccuracy of their forecast. Again, they predicted a nice sunny hot weekend and yet, I was woken up in the middle of the night by cold droplets of gentle rain…

It was meant to be a tropical weekend in London, so I decided to get away from the city as far as I can. Easy task when you have a red scooter to take you somewhere nice. The destination this time was Wales, over 200 miles long journey to Brecon Beacons National Park…