In recent months I seem to be prone to either coming up with some rather silly ideas, or giving into someone’s else’s rather silly ideas. The incident with the hairbrush was one such silly idea. Another one was when Mark said about going camping next weekend down in Somerset. As in, pitch a tent and stay in it for a weekend. For two whole nights.
The last time I stayed in a tent was about five years ago. That was also for a weekend, but we had access to my mum and dad’s caravan, so it wasn’t too bad. Prior to that it was when I was a lot younger and used to go on holiday with my mum and dad.
However, nothing about these previous experiences has made me inclined to rush down to Halfords, Millets or somewhere like World of Camping to invest in a tent and some camping equipment. The logic behind the reluctance is that if we purchase the camping equipment ourselves rather than borrow on this occasion, we would then have to use it regularly to ensure it wasn’t a waste of money.
Anyway, in a moment of madness I agreed to us going camping for a weekend, with Mark’s cousin, his cousin’s wife and their little girl. The little girl happens to be really sweet and easy to get on with, so despite my general aversion to/phobia of children, I can cope with that. It’s the sleeping in a tent and coping with the back to basics rather than having all the amenities of home from home like you would have in a caravan, or a hotel that is going to cause the stress.
Somerset here we come!
No comments:
Post a Comment