I think a good measure of how much I enjoyed something is how eager I am to write about it afterwards. This probably doesn’t apply for everything, but it probably works for certain things like novels, movies and food. Of course there are other factors that affect how much I want to write/blog about something, but as a general indication, it’s alright.
So, keeping that in mind, let me now say that I was very eager to write a post about camping at Gordon Country after getting back just this afternoon. Coincidentally quite similar to the last time I went camping.
That first time I went camping, there were toilets and showers and such. This time, at Gordon Country, there were no such amenities, and the place is so massive that I don’t think I saw any other people in the entire time that we were there (except for the odd 4WD/ute driving by on the other side of the creek, and that one guy on a mountain bike). I believe my friend said that this was more like “real” camping, and I reckon “real” camping sits well with me.
It’s kind of funny because leading up to this week-end, I mentioned to a few people at work that I was going camping, and their reactions were less than enthusiastic. They seemed to not understand the appeal of camping. This made me reflect on why I like camping (I always hesitate to use the word “reflect” in that sense because it brings back memories of all those reflections I had to write throughout uni…)
But what’s not to like? I reckon it’s a great way to spend a week-end. You get to get out of the city, relax, slow down, unwind and just enjoy life. Sure, there’s the issue of sleep not being as comfortable (especially if it’s really cold, as it was this week-end), but the way I see it, any rejuvenation gained from a week-end sleep-in is almost completely negated by that first alarm on Monday morning. Sure, there’s the issue of having to deal with “the elements” – rain and hence lots of mud, in this instance – but that’s never dampened my spirits.
And, sure, there’s the lack of creature comforts but, you know what, I reckon that helps me to be less “princess-y”. Well, to be fair, I don’t think that I’m that princess-y to begin with, but I do care about cleanliness and hygiene and that sort of thing, which is probably expected considering my line of work. Slack food prep practices make me a bit squeamish (by this I mostly mean stuff like washing hands before touching food and stuff like that) and I tend to avoid eating anything that’s burnt (like, at the charcoal stage, unless that’s how it’s supposed to be cooked and presented). But going camping, even just these two times, has made me feel more at ease with all these things. I can let go of my OCD and just go with it.
I suppose a big determinant of how much you enjoy camping is the people you go with. I guess I’ve been lucky enough to always go with the right sort of people (i.e. easy-going people who know what they’re doing). And dogs make it more fun, too.
I will not, however, deny that having that hot shower after getting back was so damned good. But it does make me a little bit sad that I’ve already washed off all of the smell of the campfire smoke.