Last week many of us died of Fremschämen when Esther McVey released her wreckage of a video. That was some weapon’s grade cringe material. Many had already done what she suggested. Opt for a staycation. Some people left the Metropolis behind, in excited search of nature and campsites. There is nothing wrong with staycations but camping. Nein, nein, nein. I suffer from outdoor sleepover aversion. It’s self-diagnosed. It’s not treatable. It’s genetic.
I remember two experiences with outdoor sleeping. My first one when I was about 8. I had a sleepover at my friend’s datscha. Her parents declared that we would be allowed to sleep in the tent in her garden. Even then, I thought this was a terrible idea. Nevermind, I tried. By midnight, I had snug back into the datscha for an acceptable sleeping arrangement.
Fast forward and I am a mum living in England where camping and festival culture are embraced. I bought a tent, attempted to motivate myself to take my daughter camping and that’s it. The tent remained a virgin and was sold again. I had failed to treat my OSA. Plus, My daughter wasn’t fussed either. In fact, she called camping something I cannot even repeat here as to not cause offence. Clear proof that OSA is genetic. As is a big mouth.
I tried to frame my reality to make it fit the camping mainstream but I was unsuccessful. My urge for a clean, dry and warm bed, easy access to electricity, a huge breakfast buffet was and remains too strong. Bugs, cold, rain, lack of water and toilets are no trade-off for comfort. People and discomfort make a hideous hybrid. I dislike both.
One of my clients summed it all up the other day. She stated she would only go camping if there was someone who paid for her glamping and carried her across the mud. She is right. A decision against something is always a decision for something else. My something else is a three day stay in a lovely hotel. Happy staycation everyone.
#camping #staycation #discomfort #felicityfauxpas #observationsfromthemetropolis