Why I don’t go camping

I don’t really ‘do’ camping. I like showers, electricity and cups of tea too much to voluntarily climb into a canvas to freeze to death at night and roast alive in the morning. I’ve tried, I really have but me and camping are not getting along.

The first time I ever went camping was in Wales, in January, on a hillside, surrounded my sheep. I should have known things were going to be baa-d. We’d trekked up and down the various valleys for about 8 hours before we set up camp. The camp leader whacked out his pop up, wind proof, waterproof, bulletproof tent whilst I unpacked the sheet + 3 poles that I’d been given back at the centre. I was sharing with a girl called Bobeck who I had never met before in my life.

So let us sum up how the camping trip was going up until this point: Wales; January; a teepee; random girl.

All she had to do was put up one side of the tent. ONE SIDE that looked like this /\. We threw the ‘waterproof’ sheet over and that was my bed for the night. As we were heating up packet food and a painfully slow rate it had begun to rain. Brilliant. So we whipped out the head torch and ate our vile food in our tents. I was ficking cold, ficking hungry, it was so ficking dark and all I had was a ficking head torch so that I couldn’t see anything properly unless I get about 6 inches away. Not the best way to make friends.

I fell asleep, being kept warm by the pool of bubbling rage caused by being forced to stay in the middle of a sheep infested field, only to be woken up by something moist slapping me in the face. I’m not going to lie, my initial thoughts were Bobeck. After blindly feeling around for my head torch I discovered that the side of the tent that Bobeck had erected had collapsed coincidently on my head. Fantastic.

So let us sum up how the camping trip was going up until this point: Wales; January; a teepee; random girl; starving; soaking wet; livid.

The rain had got heavier and Bobeck was out like a light. I woke her up by ‘accidentally’ kicking her on my way out to fix the tent.  She’d bought her own boots inside the tent when the rain got harder but had left mine outside, so I put on my wet boots whilst Bobeck went back to sleep. Useless. Do you have any idea how difficult it is trying to put a pole into wet mud on a hillside whilst it is still tipping it down? Bobeck is still doing fick all and in blind rage I begin screaming at her about going to find the camp leader whilst kicking down my well erected side (it was difficult as I had done it so well). Off I traipsed to the other side of the field still screaming abuse at Bobeck and after about 10 minutes the guy emerged and came over to help ‘fix the tent’. Once he saw a flat mass of sheets with a lump in the middle he orders Bobeck out, wakes everyone else up, sticks us in a conveniently located mini bus and takes us back to the centre.

So let us sum up how my first camping trip went: Wales; January; a teepee; random girl; starving; soaking wet; livid; home.

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