Monday, 23 February 2015

My Favourite Place

There are lots of places I like, there is a country road near my house that follows the sweep of the valley and the view is lovely, proper English countryside, mixed farms, sheep downs, little copses of trees. It's beautiful, but it's not my favourite place.

 I also love California where I've visited a friend twice, gorgeous weather, skies that stretch for miles, water lapping on sandy beaches, but that's not my favourite place either.

My very favourite place, the place where I'm happiest is a moveable one. My happiest place is in my tent.
I have three tents. One is Nylon, it was free and while it's better than no tent, it's not that great. It's just a tent. But my other two are canvas and they are both beautiful. I'd be hard pressed to pick only one.

I like being in a tent for so many reasons, it usually means I'm on holiday and when I camp I can let time pass, I don't check my watch, I eat when I'm hungry and start drinking whenever I feel the urge.  Being only the width of a piece of material away from the outside world is oddly liberating too, I love to hear the sounds of nature, the wild as I jokingly call it. The rustle of mice (and this summer, twice! the sound of voles nibbling holes in the ground sheet! I even managed to photograph one of the little buggers!) the padding of passing foxes, the odd screeches of night birds, the wind and even the rain pattering on the canvas. Peaceful.
My tent has been home to much giggling too, many a drunken evening when I've fallen off of the inflatable mattress, legs in the air, unable to get in or out of my sleeping bag. Waking in a panic in a storm and rushing outside in the lashing rain to tighten guy ropes or pound in tent pegs in my underwear...

The best place for my tent to be is at a festival. Laying in the tent late at night listening to the beat of distant dance music at 3am, hearing the merry revellers staggering back to bed, stumbling and giggling in the dark is a fabulous peaceful time. All seems so happy and I can lay and let time pass.

 I cannot think of a place I'd rather be than in my tent.
My husband doesn't camp, so I'm often only with my daughter, but even my husband feels the benefit as I always return happier and relaxed, more saucy too for the self imposed break *wink wink*
So yes. My favourite place, the best place, is lying in my tent, looking up at the glow of the canvas as the sun comes up.

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