Cold taps, torches and swearing

As the nation reflects on yet another classic British summer, it may be memories of nights spent shivering in a tent that make you smile the most. After all, camping is as big a passion in this country as moaning about the rubbish weather.

Camping traditionalists will say all you need to get started is a tent, a sleeping bag and a mat. But you’ll quickly realise you need a lot more than that to have a good trip and more importantly, a decent night’s sleep.

Essentials I’d also recommend are a little stove that takes forever to heat anything, insect repellent and a torch. The importance of the latter was rammed home to me by a couple I interrupted when climbing into the wrong tent on the way back from a 4am toilet visit.

These days tents are refreshingly easy to put up but most still don’t have a telly. Long poles arc up to raise the roof and you can erect an enormous five bedroom mansion with a kitchen and dining area in no time. Where there used to be 20 tents in a field there are now only three. I’ve even got one friend who bragged he’d found a tent with a tiled floor but on reading the small print it turned out he’d actually bought a time-share in Marbella.

There’s huge variety in the kind of campsite you can pitch up at. At one extreme you’ll be alone in a field of long grass with a cold tap your only facility. At the other you’ll be on a big commercial site where there are hot showers, entertainment and fields jam-packed with people who like to swear at their children. I prefer a site somewhere in the middle with the cold tap and the swearing.

The real charm of camping is that you’re so close to mother nature. Just a thin slightly waterproof material separates you and the big wide world.

After a day spent enjoying the great outdoors, you can spend your evening being eaten alive as you relax with a glass of your favourite tipple in the open air.

Then it’s bed time or ‘bad back’ time as you’ll come to know it. “We definitely need a blow-up bed next time.” is an oft-heard phrase in the tent of virgin campers, usually mumbled regrettably with their eyes stuck together.

You’ll also arise with a new found respect for the all-conquering power of gravity having woken up wedged up against a corner of the tent after pitching in on a slight hill.

But flick the sleep off your eyes, unzip the tent and breathe in that fresh rain as another day of your holiday begins.

When the kettle finally boils in 45 minutes’ time it will be a cup of tea to savour. And that’s the secret to enjoying camping. Savouring every bit of it that’s different to being at home. Otherwise, all the suffering just isn’t worthwhile.


Next week: The Art of Marriage