The Outdoors Type

It began like a normal text exchange on Thursday afternoon after a lovely, hot day (especially welcome after the cold, rainy, windy weather since last Saturday evening). Dave spent the day at the beach and wondered if I fancied spending Friday on the beach with him. I thought of the day ahead and said "sure, why not." I then got a text back asking if I fancied going camping for the night. According to Dave's weather sense, Friday would be scattered showers in the morning, then sunny, but cooler; Saturday, sunny but chilly. I thought about it and said "yes, if it's dry."

Friday didn't so much dawn as thunder the living daylights out of me. One minute I was fast asleep, the next I was wondering whether a giant's foot was going to come in through the roof above my head. It threw it down for about half an hour, cleared up and then had another go, because obviously, the weather hadn't got all the raining, winding and thundering right the first time. This happened again. At 10.30, Dave rang me.

I said what any sensible person would say looking out at a soggy garden "No freaking way!" Dave assured me that it would clear and dry up by lunchtime. He'd be over then to pick me up. I think the only reason he drove over here to pick me up, was to make sure I actually came. He knows me well.

I also know Dave's weather sense pretty well. I've been caught out by him before. Ladies and Gentlemen, take my advice and learn from my mistakes: do not bet against Dave's weather predictions. So, I dutifully packed my bag, gathered together my bits and pieces and waited. Lo! It thusly cleared up and dried out. 

Off we went. The camp site is in Waxham, on the Norfolk coast. Apparently, it's a pretty basic site with a shop, fish n chip van, toilets and showers. It also promised electricity. We got ourselves booked in and found our pitch to set up.

Last year we purchased, what is known as a walking tent, with the hope that if the weather was good, we'd go walking around the Norfolk coast, me carrying the tent, sleeping bags and mats, Dave carrying everything else. The tent promised it would sleep three men.

Ladies and Gentlemen, let me tell you now, that was in clear breach of the Trade Descriptions Act. The only way three men could fit in that tent is if they are three adolescent, anorexic jockeys. Let me tell you, it's a good thing Dave and I are intimate, that's not a tent to share with platonic friends. 

Pitching the tent was surprisingly easy. Especially since Dave insists on following instructions and is used to putting up tents. He also insists on making me follow his instructions so I didn't cause quite as much havoc as I might have otherwise. It only took 20 minutes. Next time it will be quicker as we'll know what we're doing. 

We had a very nice fish and chip supper and went for a walk along the beach. There's something so relaxing, sitting in the sand dunes, spotting the seals popping up near the waterline. We must have seen at least six. I don't know what it is but every time I see them I just want to throw a stick and shout "fetch!" They've got such bright, inquisitive eyes. And yes, before you start, I don't. I leave them well enough alone. They are wild animals and I am in their element.

I got a bit over-excited and insisted we go to bed when the sun went down. That was when I realised that all was not as it could be. I didn't bring the mat for under my sleeping bag, nor anything else to cushion my body against the ground. I couldn't sleep on my back, not without a roll for under my knees and when I tried to sleep on my side, it hurt. Sleeping on my front was okay, but I couldn't quite do it because of the muscles in my thighs. It seems I have discovered the down side to becoming fitter. Lack of padding. 

Going to the camp loos in the middle of the night was a bit of an expedition. Not that I was worried about stumbling around in the dark, there were two street-type lamps on site and we were directly under one and had to suffer the deep orange glow all night. 

It took me ten minutes to get comfortable to fall asleep and then I'd wake up to change position. I then had to shuffle around to try and redistribute my weight on my bones before I could shut my eyes. Every time I did, Dave was looking at me worriedly. I did get a bit chilly at one point, but he got my hat from the car on his way back from his own trek to the loos and that sorted that out. At one point he asked whether I'd prefer to sleep in the car. I declined. I was determined to see out the night in the tent. 

At about 5.30, Dave went to the loo with the immortal words "if you want, we can go sleep in my mother's house just down the road." When he came back I was dressed with boots on ready to go. No, I did not want to look at the sea. No, I did not want to go for a walk on the shore.

The tent came down a damn side quicker that it did going up. We broke camp in about ten minutes. As promised, in less than half an hour we were tucked up in a warm bed. It was bliss.

What have I learnt about camping?

• I actually like it
• We need more padding so we can sleep comfortably
• We need a proper camping stove
• A table would be quite handy
• A camping kettle and a proper cool bag would be great too
• Hand wash is more important to me than I can say
• I would like to go camping in more remote places
• Other campers are a bit interesting.

Overheard on the site:

"Do you want baby spinach with that?"
"Shall I throw this on the BBQ, or shall I do it on the George Forman?"

The Plan is to purchase a weekend tent that will have more space. Yes, it does mean it'll be bigger and heavier to cart around, but that way we'll have the option of either walking, biking or driving to a campsite (possibly near you).

An intense moment in the erection process

"We will fit. Promise."

Dave "enjoying" his camping tea. PS. I'm the shadow taking the picture.

As Dave said, this was a trial run to iron out the shortcomings. The best is yet to come.