The weather forecast had said that there would be sunny spells for the weekend, and as school starts again next week, I think that this might be our last camping trip this summer. Next weekend will be spent emptying the dressing-up box to find the forgotten book bags and spelling books, and sorting out uniform and PE kit.
After a summer of perpetual camping, the routine of school, or even home life, feels alien. We have grown used to waking in a field, forfeiting baths for a week at a time, substituting chewing gum for toothpaste and quite often eating Pringles for breakfast. And that’s a big part of the appeal, because camping skewers prescriptive domestic routine.
My camp life, though, never looked like the pictures you see in glossy lifestyle magazines. The enamel kitchen accessories I thought might raise the tone were lost weeks ago after the children went fishing with them, and my tent has grey rings of damp on the white canvas.
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