After a night of thunder and repeated lightning, it still felt oppressive. We trudged along the Dart from Newbridge, getting hotter and hotter as we clambered the last bit of the journey to Bellpool. At this bit of the Dart, just below Sharrah Pool, the river splits around three islands. Bellpool is on a bend fed by a cascade known by canoeists as Euthanasia, and has an enormous rock platform, accessed by a metal ladder, great for jumping. The water was delicious, silky and warm (for the Dart at least); just the thing on a muggy day. As we left we saw a plastic-encased note, along with a bunch of flowers, tied to a branch above the pool, saying "For Andrew my beloved son. Tranquil waters now. Love Mum". They say the Dart claims a life every year. I don't know if that's where Andrew died, but wherever he is I hope he rests in peace.