Part 2 of my Heathen Holiday
Blimey. Amongst all the excitement of the caption competition, I nearly forgot to do the post on the second part of my camping trip. How could I forget that? Living like a badger, virtually grubbing around for insects and foraging for fruit and nuts. Well ok, it wasn't quite that bad. There was a stove in the tent so that we could cook bacon sandwiches, but I still had to eat them in the open air like a squirrel, with the wind blowing mud onto them and wasps attacking me.... and then I would have to jump around trying to swat them, looking like a mentalist to boot. Methods of barbarism I say!
But hark! I didn't think I would find myself saying this, but there are enjoyable bits to camping too...... once you discard sleeping on the ground, showering in squalid communal blocks, and freezing to death as the temperature drops at night and wild animals posturing outside your tent ........
Oh yeh, I can see you looking at me through squinty, distrusting eyes, and shaking your head in disbelief. Let me explain. I love, love, love hiking and the campsite was in prime hiking territory - it had hills, coastline and forests - and hundreds of bloody miles of it. So that's what we did. We hiked. Except that it was rather unfortunate because I had forgotten my hiking shoes so had to do it in heels and ended up looking like a bit of a doughnut.
Never mind, I got lots of pictures from the hikes, and more importantly, lots of pictures with me in and they were my favourite. Want to peek? .....................
The next day we went to a scenic spot called Lulworth cove to do yet more hiking. There was a bloody great (and steep) path leading to a landmark called Durdle Door (is is just in England that we call things stupid stuff? For example, there is a village in England called Tiddly Wink ....... I kid you not), so we decided to climb it. Yes in high heels, and yes, with Izzy.
Anyway, before I go, I am going to have a quick rant about the fish and chip restaurant that we ate at. It was called The Parade and was close to the seafront in Swanage. It took 10 minutes to receive our drinks, and a further 50 minutes for our meals to arrive (a bloody long time when you have a hungry five year old with you). Plus Steve ordered a cappuccino that looked like it had been made with phlegm. We also overheard complaints from the tables around us, in particular about the service. So I would recommend that if you do visit Swanage and you fancy fish and chips, go to the other restaurant next door. Yep, right next door.
Anyway, that is the end of my camping tales. It had been a roller coaster ride, and by the end I was itching all over, and desperately wanted to take a shower with a bottle of bleach and a wire brush.
But I was proud. Proud of myself for surviving a holiday without a concierge. Proud that I could live off the land as long as there was a tent with a stove serving bacon sandwiches and tea, and a town nearby with a Fish and Chip shop and amenities. YES! I am like a Sherpa! I should've been in the SAS godammit.