Seven nights in motels/hotels. No rain. Turn up at the Grand Canyon to camp, start putting up the tent and an almighty thunderstorm explodes drenching us. Wet, wet, wet. Ten minutes after we finish, it stops.
Later on, still damp, we start cooking. Halfway through another thunderstorm explodes right above us – no seconds between lightning and thunder – and as Gonul carries on preparing pasta and veggies, I hold a bin bag above her head and the gas hob. It’s getting dark (at 6pm) and as I hold the bag up, rain pours down my sleeve soaking my fleece. My shorts are saturated as the rain lashes both of us.Read More