Olympic Camping

Camping, oh how I love thee. Oh how I hate thee.

Forgetting the Olympic opening ceremony was on, we accepted a lovely invitation to go Camping with a group of really good friends.

Our 5.5mile tramp, skirting beautiful lakes..

Our home for the weekend, sleeping under the Stars (a 101 in 1001 goal!) It was cosy, very very cosy and one of the harder things about Camping – like our friend said when he kindly lent it to us “It’s meant to be a 2 man tent, but it’s a good thing that you know each other well!”. The next time we’ll go, I think we’ll invest in one ourselves. And an airbed. Or maybe I’ll just stay in a hotel, carrying some freshly mown grass to create the proper smell of camping. I wonder if they’ll mind me using the furniture to make a bonfire? Celebs get to chuck TVs so I can’t see why I can’t utilise the curtains as lighter paper.

Gathering for Camp, we settled in amongst suited and booted businessmen, celebrating Friday night.

Rolling English Pastures…

… and primordial forests.

Oh, why, herrow.

A well earned rest stop


If I could only remember where I left that tent…



The best meal of the weekend.

How to get into our campsite, this is roughing it.



Home, Sweet Home.



Best part of the weekend. Sitting around the campfire, talking tall tales with wonderful people.

Dusk Sack Racing! There was quite a bit of foul play that went on.

I learnt how to recognise a constellation, the Big Dipper. Thank you Mark! (another 101 in 1001 Goal!)

(Best viewed large)

Workout: Lugging 17 pound backpacks from campsite to campsite, including a 5.5mile tramp. Loved it, and would never have been able to complete it 3 months ago.

Are you a Camper or a Glamper at heart?

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