"Oh yeah? Like you were camping on your way to visit her, or did your Nan camp too?"

Somehow John doesn't... easily envisage someone's grandmother camping, but maybe Welsh grandmothers are made of tougher stuff. He vaguely makes sure the leaf is as secure as it's going to be before finally giving up the shelter for as good as it's going to get, moves back around to the front of it and drops to sit near Ianto so he can rummage for something to eat himself. John's tired, his feet ache and his hands ache a little from hauling and winding everything together, but it's far from the worst he's ever felt. They made good progress, so it's all worth the effort.