It was not a great many years ago that I went for a proper summer camp every year. I’d think nothing of a sleeping 8 to a tent, when each of the eight smelled rank and snored, getting up at dawn, doing some daft strenuous activity and then going to be late.
This actually counted as a nice holiday, and despite the general odour and need to shit in an actual bucket it was more relaxing than many other holidays I’ve been on. Unless we, as a troop, discovered a nearby electric fence, in which case things always became a little more exciting.
So, please explain to my why three nights in a field, getting no less sleep, having nicer facilities, doing less and sharing with someone who neither smells rank nor snores, has knocked me sideways. Seriously, I’ve been sleeping in beds for three nights now, and I’ve not properly recovered.
If I had recovered, I’m fairly sure that I’d have been pissed off by thought police, or making quips about checking the people standing downwind scoffing munchies, or bitching about how the Channel 4 V-festival coverage was rendered unwatchable by the inane people that are paid to present Channel 4 coverage of such events.
Instead, I’ve been watching a few DVDs, nattering a bit and generally going meh to most things.
Dear god, I’m getting too old for this shit…