Camping can be dumping but still is triumphing

I haven’t been camping since I came to London. I didn’t even realise how much I missed it! It was only two days and two nights under the tent but it felt so different from what I usually do during weekends. I can’t say however that it was always warm, so the thing I would change would be the temperature in the evenings and at nights. Other then that fresh air, beautiful sights of Swanage cliffs, sea, green land, 1000 year old Corfe castle, grilled food, cute little lambs running around, my friends around, being away from crowded London and waking up early in the morning with sun over my head compensated more than enough for little inconveniences. 

 

What I missed however in my campsite were two things, which in my country are something common and in fact often the soul of such trips and sleepovers under the sky. They are bonfires (or campfires) and guitar playing and singing. Only when we got to the camping field we saw the sign: NO OPEN FIRES! And there, of course, was no designated area for such thing. And our excited spirits faded a little bit. After all, it was really cold at times. I can’t complain about the guitar – none of us had one and the other thing is… none of us can actually play one. So maybe not having the instrument with us was a good thing after all (although I've heard that one or two of my fellow capmers are actually learning the cords. Fingers crossed that next time we camp there will a guitar and the tallented guitarist). But the bonfire! This was something all of us regretted a lot.

And one of my friends observed and said: “There are two things British people are scared of. Fire and electricity.”

And I can’t actually deny. Have you even been to British bathroom? But seriously. I still miss having socket in my bathroom.