I thought it was always that way - there was a sort of rite of passage to go shrooming in Wales when I was young, stood before a copper, getting the things into your mouth as quickly as possible so as not to ever be in possession whilst the coppers mill around bored out of their faces confiscating black bags.
I never was adventurous enough myself. That and it's far too muddy, windy, wet and cold on them mountains.
I never was adventurous enough myself. That and it's far too muddy, windy, wet and cold on them mountains.