Today we visited the site of the Battle of Waterloo. There’s three different visitor centre buildings (one fairly shiny and new, the others were probably quite impressive in their day but a bit musty smelling now), and a memorial in the form of a steep, 41m high, man-made hill with a large statue of a lion at the top. Hazel climbed every one of the 226 steps up the side of the hill and wasn’t even out of breath at the top (that’s definitely something she gets from her Dad – my calf muscles complained loudly for about half an hour after the climb; Matt and H were playing spinning games because Hazel likes being dizzy).
On the way back we were stopped by the police. They checked Matt’s driving licence and then sent us on our way (with a cheery “Bye Bye Man” from H). We were muttering darkly about being stopped because of our GB plates, but then the campsite owner told us he’s been stopped twice in the last week. Turns out they’re stopping everyone during the feast day celebrations because they expect us all to be sozzled...
Hazel has been sleeping up the top of the van with mixed results. On day one she slept up there throughout the night, no problem, and we assumed it would all be a breeze. Day two she refused to countenance it at all (M moved up there at about midnight). Last night she went to sleep fine, but then we think she got lost in the front part of the roof in the dark, having woken up disorientated, and so came and joined us. So that’s won one, lost one and an away draw...
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