Writing was once such a
dignified and delicate art form. Writers were all soft, frail
creatures, lounging about in lacy cuffs and stockings, daintily
scribbling away with their feather quills, decorating each
letter with a triumphant flourish, spending so long on their
penmanship that by the end of the day, they may have finished
one entire sentence, then they'd go off to celebrate with a
night out at the theatre, watching a syphilitic whore dance with
a dog in an Elizabethan ruff - oh
yes, those were the days of literary splendour and grace. Y has
it changed you ask, because we now have SMS and email, both of
which encourage the abbreviation of those flourishing sentences
we secretly yearn to express, oh and of course we also now have
geocaching which we would all like to have more time
for.
This cache is along a dirt
track that could obviously become quite boggy in places when
extremely wet. You could easily tow a caravan or whatever along the
track, but will need to make a reverse 3 point turn at the end to
return the way you came.