Tent Sniffing for Beginners

I went camping with my brother and his daughters last week. We both leave our spouses at home as they don't see the same delight in tents as we do. We stayed at Hurst View in Lymington i n the New Forest, we had perfect weather and the campsite was lovely. Big, and quite comercial but very friendly and lovely walks to the coast, nearby pubs, lots for the kids to do. The well maintained showers and toilets were always clean. The fields were large but not regimented. Open fires were allowed and loud music was banned after 10pm (and patrols did come and tell people if they over stepped the mark) The kids enjoyed crabbing the most! All in all we had a great time.

Come with me to the wild wild wood  And see where pixies roam  Where sprites and fairies late have stood  Their bare feet on the loam Come and look in the wild wild wood Where any attire ‘goes’ Flowers, feathers, golden masks And even spandex hose!   Come and write in the wild wild wood  And tell tall tales of tails Smile and tell your fairy myths Of gardens, spas and snails   Come and eat in the wild wild wood  More soup, or cake, or chips But now it seems it’s pizza time Tomorrow veg and dips   Come and drink in the wild wild wood Vodka, by the glass And cider, beer and cocktails too Until you sleep at last   Come and skate in the wild wild wood Whooshing through the trees Slipping, sliding down the slopes Landing on your knees   Come and shop in the wild wild wood Vintage, bags and hats Bubbles, jewellery and drums The tails and ears of cats! ...

The first festival we ever went to was Eastern Haze . it was billed as 'family friendly' but in reality was a festival for music lovers with some fun kids activities thrown in. Camp Bestival on the other hand is a fab kids festival with some music thrown in. As DD and I often prefer the events on the periphery to the actual music this suits us just fine. And like the previous 3 years we had great fun at Camp Bestival. There were some changes though and we tried to embrace the new, but couldn't help missing the comedy, (thought the comedy for kids was fun) and the Sunday morning review of the papers in the Big Top which had always been one of our highlights. The talks at the literary tent really failed to fill the tent, unlike when it was comedians and the tent was bursting! So we are not alone in preferring a laugh to a cookery or a business talk! We enjoyed the crafts and took part in several, we also lounged about and ate a lot. I enjoyed the chance to camp and to dr...

You know me dear blog reader, I love camping.  I've been known to camp in my own garden, and often in campsites less than a mile from my home. The joy of the birds singing, the sound of the trees creaking in the night (and during one particularly stormy night the sound of a tree crashing to the ground 100 yards from the tent!), the feel of the breeze though a loosely tethered flap...  But this post is not the convince you that camping is fun, that goes without saying! No one remembers childhood holidays where you stayed in a nameless hotel by a hot beach (well I don't, probably because we never did..but anyway..) but we all remember the joy of a camping holiday, cleaning your teeth in a field, spitting toothpaste into the wind (school boy error), traipsing to a cold shower block at dawn, through cow pats and getting lost amongst unfamiliar tents because you forgot your glasses...ah bliss  *pause to think of the wild open spaces*  But this post is to say that ...

Friday arrived damp and drizzly. We donned wellies (and clothes, I wasn't allowed to wander naked, the teen DD had forbidden it, tsk, teens eh) And headed down to the festival for some breakfast. The field by the Other Stage was a quagmire. Proper sticky, slippy Glastonbury mud. Hungover festival goers slithered and slid along the walkways, sometimes falling with a satisfying 'splat'. We stopped for breakfast of bacon and egg in a bap (well I did, DD claimed not to be hungry) and then walked about in the mud, we squelched onward and suddenly were forced, FORCED, to eat warm blackberry and apple pie with cream, when we spotted the aptly named Just Desserts (absolutely scrumptious!)  We then staggered onward to the kids field as DD had been dying to visit and see what was going on there. By this time the sun was out, so I lounged while she played in the spider tower, the pingpong thunderdome and other assorted amusements. I wasn't just watching beards (I was). Later...

Early on Wednesday morning (I say early it was actually 8am - the time the gates opened at Glastonbury) I set off with some trepidation, (and DD)  to the biggest music festival in the UK. The journey was stupidly easy, no queues anywhere despite AA signs and dire warnings online of long waits around the site. We arrived at the Purple car park as instructed and were shown to a parking spot about as far from the main festival site as was possible without still being at home. The view from the car park (which was high on a hill) over the festival was amazing. We had packed light (we hadn't) and so we put the trolley together and set off. We camped on Hitchin Hill as the family camping was already full when we arrived at 11am. It was very steep but luckily DD's beauty and my feeble helplessness attracted manly types to grab the trolley and RUN with it to the top of the hill in a show of awesome macho-ness. We pitched the tent, dropped the trolley and our valuables off at t...

How super. A small festival in a small field in a small village in the south of England. A faery festival no less, filled with all the delightful English eccentrics you can imagine (me included) The weather was suitably British too, grey, windy (really really windy) with the occasional sudden downpour and cold, very cold (well it is only May). But what a fine time we had! After realising during the pitching of the tent that I had forgotten to bring a mallet i asked a fellow camper if I could borrow his, he lent me an axe, I wish I was joking, I'm not. A really big axe. You know when people say 'oh you shouldn't meet people online the might be axe murderers'? well real life people you meet in fields might be too, though I felt I was safe as he gave me the axe, I mean, maybe I'M the axe murderer (I'm not) So tent pitched. Then on to the festival full of middle aged hippies and middle class hippy wannabes (me) and children. Most of whom were dressed as fair...