“Anyone who decides to sleep in a field of their own free will is crazy”. Seriously.
I have a perfectly nice house. It’s a bit messy, but it has walls and a roof and central heating and a kitchen and wifi and several thousand books. So why did I agree to sleep in a field with sheep baa-ing over the river at me?
I’d say camping was Hell, except at least Hell is warm and dry. The rain was horrific, not least when we were wading through a couple of centimetres of puddle inside!
The dog thought we were loons and every time someone unzipped the “door” he darted out to sit next to the car. “Come on people, you’ve had your joke. I’ll be nice to the kittens if you take me home now.”
And The Babe tripped on a guy rope, fell forward to the next getting a nice rope burn on her throat and bashed her face. Blood everywhere. Today her nose is doubled in size and is bruised all the way up to her eyes. Is it even possible for a child to break their nose?
I have to admit… the tent ended up at the tip this morning. Never, never again.
Not in that tent anyway. I bought a nice new one this afternoon…