Yesterday was the most poignant day of the year: the end of the summer's test cricket

[Ash]

To sum up, then: Fúck winter. Fúck it in its inexorable, icy arse.

What kind of defeatist, furrin talk is this? Do you not love the changing of our seasons? The freshening of the air? The yellow, red and gold leaves on the trees in our parks and woodland? Jumpers for goalposts? The cosiness of the longer evenings? Ladies wearing knee-length boots?

[Sir C]

What kind of defeatist, furrin talk is this? Do you not love the changing of our seasons? The freshening of the air? The yellow, red and gold leaves on the trees in our parks and woodland? Jumpers for goalposts? The cosiness of the longer evenings? Ladies wearing knee-length boots?

For myself, I look forward to wild camping at Angle Tarn in January. Nice and cosy under a tarp.

[Ash]

For myself, I look forward to wild camping at Angle Tarn in January. Nice and cosy under a tarp.

Ho ho! You jest.

[Sir C]

Ho ho! You jest.

I most certainly do not. Last January I walked up to Angle Tarn in the snow and thought it would be the most beautiful place on earth to wake up and watch the sun rise. Admittedly I haven't yet persuaded the glw to accompany me...

[Ash]

I most certainly do not. Last January I walked up to Angle Tarn in the snow and thought it would be the most beautiful place on earth to wake up and watch the sun rise. Admittedly I haven't yet persuaded the glw to accompany me...

My word!

Well, as I said, I like a bit of cool, fresh air. Just not that much.