greenbubbly12, where on earth are these compulsory camping trips coming from??—Sparkitors
I recently came back from a camping and hiking expedition. Simply put, it was a nightmare. Filthy, exhausted, and slightly catatonic, I stumbled into my house and vowed never to go camping again. Here's why:
1. Hello, hygiene. I didn’t shower for three days. Some of you might say that that’s how it’s meant to be when you go camping. Bollocks. When you struggle through dense bush and climb down rocks while carrying a 12 kg backpack, you need a shower more than any other time! And the toilet situation was even worse—it was basically a hole with a lid. I nearly cried when I saw it. But then again, that might have just been the smell making my eyes water.
2. Sleeping rough (Part I). Some absolute imbecile decided it was a great idea for our group to camp in a cow field. Luckily, we were in a paddock with absent cows; unluckily, the surrounding fields were inhabited by black-and-white water-barrel shaped things that mooed throughout the night. I was woken up by the dulcet tones of more mooing until I nearly went bonkers. Also, I have diagnosed myself with a case of cow-paranoia. Everywhere I go, even back in civilization, I swear I hear cow noises. A motorcycle went by, just now, and I heard moooo! and looked up frantically for an impeding stampede.
3. Sleeping rough (Part II). Tents have really thin walls. All through the night, besides the incessant mooing, I could hear various irritating sleeping habits. One person hummed constantly, another girl ground her teeth like a bulldozer, and my tent buddy whistled. Through her nose. Plenty of times during the night I was tempted to silence them (forever…mwahahaha) but the bush guide’s threat “if any of you make too much noise, I’ll pull out your tent poles in the middle of the night” kept me still and grumbling in my sleeping bag.
4. Falling over is not fun. It really isn’t. In one day, I fell over three times. Granted, we were going down this steep mountain thingy and falling over was practically required, but one embarrassing incident occurred on relatively flat ground. There I was, minding my own business, when one-waterproof-material-clad-leg tripped over the other and I sprawled inelegantly onto a prickly bush. It didn’t help that I swore loudly and with passion until the guide started laughing his head off and later imitated the fall for the benefit of the other group members in case they missed my Oscar-worthy moment.
Unfortunately, there is another compulsory trip scheduled next week. I’m thinking of using either mono, chicken pox or the plague as an excellent excuse, but a broken leg sounds good to. Any ideas?
Anyone else been through a horrible camping experience?
Related Post: How to Survive a Week in the Wilderness
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