As we had had no rain for a considerable length of time we assumed that going through the tunnel would be relatively dry, and we were right! Little did we know that the next tunnel at Blisworth would be a different kettle of fish. It poured water at us through the roof and sides like gushing geezers. Ian had the tiller so I battened down the hatches and stayed inside. When we eventually arrived at the other end and I stuck my head out to see how he had fared I was greeted with a very very wet Ian and a few strong expletives.
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