It was a great holiday, but...... the night a racoon broke into our tent and attacked us will live on in my memories.
... coming down a dirttrack mountain road with no fences with the back end of the car fishtailing about left me needing new underwear.
I'm off on holiday next week somewhere nice and safe. Tell us your holiday stories.
(
rob, Thu 21 Apr 2005, 9:55)
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Damn English Camping, Damn It All To HellOn my first ever trip to the UK my mother decided it would be a good idea for us all to go camping. In September.
I shared a tent with her, and she snores. Her geriatric old friend came with us, and she snored so loudly that other campers would move their tents in the morning. But the worst moment was a storm which occurred (somewhere aroung Blackpool, what a great place to camp) shortly after I had gotten into my inadequate sleeping bag for another night of no sleep due to being freezing cold and surrounded by snoring old ladies. The whole tent flooded within minutes and my mother and I have to dissasemble it, in the dark, in a muddy field, and pack it into the storm lashed car which we subsequently had to sleep in. For some reason, it now rains every time I go camping, in every country I have ever been to. And the worst is I truly frigging HATE camping, it's always my damn family who outvotes me.
Apologies for length, I have always wanted to admit how much I hate sleeping 'outdoors, under the stars' Give me a damn big bed with a warm duvet...
(, Thu 21 Apr 2005, 10:51, Reply)
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