I'm not a natural camper. The lack of running water, electricity, comfy seating and indoor toilets, cooking on a wobbly and frankly unsafe excuse for a cooker, well surely we've evolved haven't we? Didn't we struggle like this in cavemen times? So it comes as a little bit of a surprise that I am now staring at the most humungous tent sitting in my house. How on earth did that happen?
Some friends of ours repeatedly asked us to go camping with them, and it became something of a running joke that I always said I was busy that weekend - even before I knew when they were going. I could think of nothing worse than sitting in a damp and muddy farmer's field, tramping miles when you wanted the loo, cold and miserable and longing for the comfy sofa, warm living room and TV that you had left behind. But then one day, my friend said they were going camping, and laughingly asked why didn't we go with them? But this time, before I could give my stock response, she suggested that we just go over for the day, and not do anything quite so rash as actually camp. I spoke to hubby about it and we thought that perhaps we should go, I mean we didn't want to appear rude. We liked our friends, it's just that we didn't like their leisure pursuit.
So, off we set for Anglesey, about an hour and a half away from our home. The skies were leaden grey (obviously), but we were relatively smug in the knowledge that we could come home as soon as politely feasible. We could just show our faces for an hour or two then head off to the warmth of the nearest pub for lunch and come back to our snuggly beds. As we drove over the Menaii Straits via the Britannia Bridge, the clouds drifted away, the leaden skies were replaced with clear blue and the sun actually showed it's face . I started to feel any anxiety and stress ebb away. I love Anglesey, it is where as a child we spent our family holidays. There are glorious beaches and the island itself is a very unspoilt, uncommercialised haven.
When we arrived in the car park of the community centre in the designated resort, we rang our friends and the hubby came to fetch us. The campsite was a short drive - a few hundred yards really - and was quite literally a farmer's field filled with tents and touring caravans. Our friends are very sociable people and other of their friends had joined them for the camping weekend, their tents forming a little community in a sheltered part of the site. Our son was immediately taken off by their son to explore and I was transported back to my childhood when we had spent our holidays on a remote caravan site on the island in static caravans, and how much we kids had loved it - the freedom, the adventure. Absolute heaven. After an hour or so, the cars were loaded up with beach paraphinalea, kayaks, kites and the ubiquitous wind-breaks and we all decamped off to the almost deserted beach. It was incredibly windy and I didn't even unzip my coat never mind take it off, but I felt a deep sense of peace and happiness sitting there surrounded by happy kids doing what kids should do - not a DS or PS3 in sight, just sand, water, dunes and pebbles, making their own entertainment ALL day. We ate our picnic, and the boys were taken off in a massive Canadian canoe brought by one of the gang. There were big kites that could only be controlled if you had muscles like a weightlifter but hubby gamely had a go, and all in all we had a great time. This was what life should be about. When we finally decided to head back to the campsite, we were invited to stay for a BBQ. We bought basic stuff from the local mini supermaket and I can honestly say, I have never enjoyed a burger and sausage quite so much. We headed back home after 9pm - much later than we had intended. I was really glad though that we weren't camping. The temperature had plummeted and my cosy bed was calling.
We were subsequently persuaded to go and spend a night - our friends kindly said we could use their tent whilst two of them used a little two-man. I realise now they were breaking us in gently. 'Come over for the day'. 'Stay the night if you want'. Next stop - fully blown campers. We'd been converted. We had 'found' Camping.
I was really keen. Keen that was if I could have a toilet, shower, a separate area for clothes - I couldn't cope with fumbling around in a bag to find a crumpled t-shirt - I wanted comfy seats, an awning to shelter from the wind, lights, heater - the works. Although I had enjoyed our one night stay (and particularly the day before - dune jumping, kayaks, fun, even though it was cold), there was no room to stand up to get dressed, the toilets were a trek, I didn't fancy the showers - facilities were basic, and I had been cold and uncomfortable in the night, hardly sleeping as our mattress hadn't been inflated sufficiently. I felt that if we had our own stuff, we would naturally have more room, we now knew to inflate the mattress more, and most of all, I felt our son would truly benefit from this lifestyle - we could pop off easily at weekends if the weather was good and we would all benefit from being outdoors more. I wanted us to get a kayak, to do more outdoorsy stuff. I felt it was important in our sons' development. I started to look for a tent. Found a 12 man one which seemed to fit the bill - enough room for a separate dressing room, a room for a toilet! We could take in paying guests! Great. I discussed it with our friends but was disillusioned when I was told to be careful about getting a very large tent as it would be difficult to erect. I have since found out that large tents can incur a supplement for the pitch, and in some cases are not allowed at all.Things then went off the boil a bit as winter set in and camping seemed a million miles away. That is until the Spring. My previously suppressed camping gene started to get restless and I found myself browsing camping supplies sites on the internet once more. Hubby and I visited a local camping store where they had a large outdoor display and we fell in love. It was as if we were born to camp! We eventually bought our tent and it arrived in two MASSIVE boxes. One of which needed a small crane to move it, it was so heavy. Right, so we've got the tent, lets go! Oh, hang on though, we still need:
- a cooker
- a stand to put it on
- cooking pots and utensils
- a large coolbox
- sleeping bags
- blow up mattresses
- table
- lighting
- heater
- a tent 'footprint' - necessary to put under the tent apparantly
- a pump
- comfy seats (essential)
- water carrier
- plastic wine glasses (also essential)
It suddenly struck me that all this gear, plus four people and our luggage were not going to fit into our car. Aagghh. 'Husband' I yelled, 'I think we need a trailer, and that means we need a tow bar fitting'.
The cheap holiday option was turning into anything but. The amount of stuff you need, it's unbelievable, and where would we store it all? I don't know if I can be bothered! I then did a little search (it was meant to be a little search but as always on the internet two or three hours went by without me even noticing), to try and find a campsite for a couple of nights during the Easter holidays in the Lake District. But instead of the cheap £15 a night we were expecting, there was nothing less than £30 a night. Now I realise this isn't expensive, but you can get a Premier Inn for that price - all comfy beds and warm duvets, lovely (private) showers and toilets. My husband and I looked at one another - 'have we made a massive mistake - is camping really for us?'. The Easter holiday expedition was out - weather freezing and we didn't have all the gear, never mind a trailer to transport it all in. It's the weather - Britain has such a rubbish climate. We really, really want to do it, but not in freezing conditions and driving rain. We want to enjoy the great outdoors, but in this country, is it going to be viable for us? The jury's out. I will report back once we have made our maiden voyage.
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