Now I’m usually a bullish sort of person - I’ve rubbed the shiny balls of the one near Wall Street and everything - but I’m afraid that, as of tomorrow, I will be fully bearish. Bring on your double dip, the end is nigh.
Unusually for a commentator rather than a market maker, I can attribute the imminent economic collapse to myself. In mountain-milestone news, I have finally acquired all the bits of kit that I need. Right down to the rubble bags (I shied away from going to the vet and asking for dead-dog-bags. Largely because my vet would have charged me £20 plus a £15 consultation fee).
Last stop was Boots, for a collection of preventatives and curatives that would have had the checkout girl reaching for 999/the pop-up isolation room if they hadn’t had the good sense to install self-checkouts.
Sadly for the wider economy, it is now unlikely that I will ever go into a Millets/Cotswold/Mountain Warehouse again. Next camping event is Reading next week, but as any aficionado of festival camping will tell you, less is less. No staff for carrying things after all.
Sell, sell, sell....
What we have learned:
EVERYONE is up the mountain at the moment. The hire company has run out of sleeping bags.
Boot update:
Utterly filthy after walking in the rain on Saturday. Result.
