Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Just positioning the thing on a campsite was difficult enough. The
emplacement
given to us
was on a slight slope, but a slight slope in a caravan seems like a vertical incline and as I
unhooked the thing from the car it began to roll down the 'hill' dragging me with it.
'Natalie! Put the chocks behind the wheels!' I shouted as I tried to stop the thing from crush-
ing next door's tent.
'I think we should move nearer the hedge,' she suggested, completely unaware that I was
losing control, in all senses.
'It'll be nearer the bloody sea in a minute, put the chocks in. NOW!'
'Well, there's no need…'
'NOW!' I screamed. It was an angry start to the holiday, and it somewhat set the tone.
The plan was that the two eldest, Samuel and Maurice, would sleep in a tent and Natalie,
Thérence and me would be 'indoors'. I was utterly naive to think things actually might pan out
that way though. It wasn't the boys' fault, there were violent storms almost every night so the
tent wasn't really an option. We all slept in the tiny caravan which was resting precariously
at an angle and which was not designed to sleep five. The evenings when we were trapped
in by the weather developed their own theme, games like 'How Many Times Daddy Would
Bang his Head', which the boys thought was great fun. Natalie was, as always, calmness and
serenity personified. I hated it.
I tried to be positive, I really did, I tried to like it but I'm just not a camper. The filth, the lack
of space, the damp, it all got to me. And there's this mantra that families on campsites keep
repeating, 'It's good for the kids. It's good for the kids.' So is sensible footwear, so are cereal
bars and non-alcoholic drinks, but I want nothing to do with them either. It won't wash with
me that kind of delusion, I cannot for the life of me see how a family being holed up together
in a damp tent or caravan is in any way enjoyable, and this 'sardine' approach to family living
seems to me to be a tacit admission that, in most cases, there is no more sex to be had in the
relationship. I mean, where are you going to go?
'Get the kids to bed, love, I'll meet you in the chemical toilet Waste Disposal Cubicle for a
quick feel up... five minutes OK?'
It may be good for the kids, but it can put marriages under almost intolerable pressure. In
the four years we've been going to campsites we've seen some huge marital rows, after some
of which you just can't see how the marriage could ever continue.
And I don't care how 'luxurious' it's supposed to be, the word 'luxury' shouldn't be used any-
where near a place that has communal toilet facilities. The men's toilets in the morning were
a cross between the farting scene in
Blazing Saddles
and a refugee camp - though, to be fair,
so is Stansted Airport on a Sunday morning and so is the Comedy Store dressing room before
the late show on a Saturday night. But still, this is my holiday and I've paid for this?
'Clean Living Under Difficult Circumstances' is a very loose definition of what it is to be a
mod, and campsites test that to its very limits. To maintain standards while everyone around
