Stayed at a campsite near Bodiam in East Sussex this very weekend 9 years ago. It was a pleasant campsite, the weather was great, it was a nice 15 minute riverside stroll to a very good pub, we had a campfire in the evenings and all was well with the world.
Until the Saturday night. At the other end of the field was a large group who seemed to be a big extended family. They got louder and drunker as the evening wore on. I turned in at about 12 and, unusually for me, was still awake an hour or two later when Mr Lakie came to bed. The raucous mob were totally stocious by this time, and lots of shouting and swearing had degenerated into a couple of fierce arguments and screaming. At one point, I think one of the wives had shut herself into her caravan because one the men was banging on the door and shouting "It's my f***ng beer, you f***ing bitch, give me my f***ing beer or I'll f***ing kill you, you c---" over and over again. After about 20 minutes, he started getting quieter and more slurred until he finally stopped.
Then things took a turn for the worst.
Two of the younger men decided that, when pissed out of your minds on a campsite in the middle of the night, it's a really good idea to race your 4x4 pick-up trucks round a camping field full of people trying to sleep in tents. It was scarey enough when they were going round their area and up and down the middle of the field where no-one had pitched, but when they started doing circuits of the perimeter I was frankly terrified. They were driving the trucks between my tent and the hedge, which was only about a 10' gap. A couple of times, I felt the tent shake as they clipped a guy rope. I'd've called the police, but there was no mobile signal and no on-site owner or manager. I couldn't work out whether I'd be safer in the car or not.
Then to make things a bit more difficult for themselves, they repeated the exercise with their head lights off. {{{{shudders}}}} Thankfully, that was fairly short lived as one them crashed into a car belonging to his dad, who came out and did a lot more shouty swearing. Amazingly, the then Mr Lakie and our friend slept through most of this.
The next day, loads of people complained to the owner who told them that some of them kept their caravans there all summer and he couldn't afford to lose their business.
Nowadays, I only stay at campsites where there are staff or owners on-site and a strictly enforced noise curfew, and never at bank holidays. That is the only properly bad experience I've had though, and I've been camping regularly for 42 years.
Pikeys. I had a similar experience when a family of them persuaded the owner of a private stretch of the River Trent to let them pitch a caravan on the bank. At about 11pm they lit a bonfire using his fence posts and a few of their mates arrived. They put a stereo on full blast and sat there drinking whiskey, getting louder and louder. When they ran out of wood, one of them got a chainsaw out and started on the rest of the fence and surrounding trees. Then they attempted to ride the farmer's terrified livestock. All this time, there were a couple of children in the caravan who could only have been six or seven years old. Scum, the lot of them.
On a school trip to the lake district. Anyone who didn't have a lock on their tent, would find sheep shit in their sleeping bags.
My worst experience though was trying to sleep in a tent with just a sheet. I don't usually feel the cold but I was probably close to hypothermia that night.
Camping in the back garden of my cousins' when I was 9 or 10. They told me that earwigs would get me in the night. Never been camping since and it's been 20 or so years. Much, much prefer a hotel.
I was at a campsite where a girls school party turned up, with a rather camp(appropriately) bloke and a slightly fearsome matron in charge. They were a bit old for schoolgirls to be honest and one or two of them were downright saucy. Then some really unrealistic hippies turned up but we disguised ourselves as even more unrealistic hippies and tied them all together with their beads which somehow represented a triumph for decency.
aged 14, a weekend in a tent in maldon with the youth club went a bit bad when i got paralytic on merrydown on the first night and was confined to camp for the rest of the trip.
Been a few times and it's not for me. The stove normally blows up, it always rains, there's nothing to do after 9pm as getting to the pub is like crossing middle earth. Hotels and BnB's for the win.
I remember when I was in my late teens a friend and I decided to go to the Lakes for the weekend. It was my first 'holiday' without parents.
Unfortunately when we came to pitch the two man tent we hadn't brought the outer cover so just slept in the inner.
As you can imagine, being at the Lakes it started to rain in the middle of the night and as we were getting soaked , we took our wet sleeping bags and moved to the toilet block floor by the sinks. It was one of the worst nights I've spent
I rang my dad the next morning to beg him to come and pick us up as we couldn't face walking back to the bus station about five miles away.
Anyone else experienced the joys of camping ?
On a school trip to the lake district. Anyone who didn't have a lock on their tent, would find sheep shit in their sleeping bags.
My worst experience though was trying to sleep in a tent with just a sheet. I don't usually feel the cold but I was probably close to hypothermia that night.
I can believe it. I've been camping at the Lakes in May and it snowed ! It's a good job we've only got sheep and not lions and tigers and bears
Reading some of the posts has made me want to fish out the tent this summer, remembering to pack the bucket of course.
Been a few times and it's not for me. The stove normally blows up, it always rains, there's nothing to do after 9pm as getting to the pub is like crossing middle earth. Hotels and BnB's for the win.
I've just posted that I might go and find the tent....reading that makes me think it might be best left in the garage
I hate camping and I hate tents, unfortunately I used to go to a fair share of bike rallies so I used to spend at least 8 weekends a year sleeping in them. Usually I would get so drunk I'd pass out as soon as I lay down, but you would get some ******** revving the balls out of a bike at 3am or someone tripping over your guy wires.
Non bike camping isn't much better, the first time we were woefully optimistic about how good the tent was, we camped just off a beach in Co. Down and the wind basically overpowered the tent poles, the camping stove didn't work and being NI, the local shop was shut for the sabbath. 2 days of wind, rain, cold EEC tinned meat and soggy digestives.
A special mention goes to the old crone in a campsite outside Keswick, there was a group of us pre booked in this campsite (or a muddy field complete with hoof marks and cow crap to be accurate) we arrived and there appeared to be nobody about, eventually some guy appeared and told us to pitch wherever we liked, so we did.
The next morning we were awakened by what appeared to be Zelda from Terrahawks trying to get into our tent and a general commotion, the old bat apparently owned the place and had taken exception to us being there despite having been booked months in advance and was going about trying to collapse people tents and ranting about disgusting people, she was clearly as mad as a loon, especially when she started kicking peoples cars and ranting about a sign, needless to say I've never been back near the lake district since.
The last time I went camping was about 5 years ago, there were a crowd of annoying student types who talked gibberish half the night, listening to "drugs are for mugs, and mugs are for tea, and I'd like some tea" at half four in the morning had me reaching for the peg mallet to do someone GBH.
I'd rather chew my own arm off as go camping again.
I was at a campsite where a girls school party turned up, with a rather camp(appropriately) bloke and a slightly fearsome matron in charge. They were a bit old for schoolgirls to be honest and one or two of them were downright saucy. Then some really unrealistic hippies turned up but we disguised ourselves as even more unrealistic hippies and tied them all together with their beads which somehow represented a triumph for decency.
I love camping, preferably wild, and preferably winter, somewhere proper cold. Though you can take things too far on occasion, once, the chilli froze to our plates before we could eat it. I still do a ski tour somewhere in the Alps every March. My wife and I used to do it together, but, alas, she has rheumatoid arthritis now, and whilst she can stil ski, she needs a hot bath and a warm bed afterwards, so I go with my son. Alpine huts are for pussies, we usually snow hole it.
I'd rather chew my own arm off as go camping again.
Give it another try, but in Europe this time, preferably next to the Med or in the Alps. The bigger sites are more like holiday resorts with swimming pools, restaurants and supermarkets.
Last time I camped in the UK, it was next to the M25 (on the way to Dover), and cost me £16. It was completely dead by 8pm, with the gates closed, and I'd arrived just after! That took some persuasion to let me stay.
I was at a campsite where a girls school party turned up, with a rather camp(appropriately) bloke and a slightly fearsome matron in charge. They were a bit old for schoolgirls to be honest and one or two of them were downright saucy. Then some really unrealistic hippies turned up but we disguised ourselves as even more unrealistic hippies and tied them all together with their beads which somehow represented a triumph for decency.
Are you sure you weren't actually watching Carry On Camping on acid?
Got to a campsite, put the tent up and went off to the pub for the evening.
After a skinful, got back and climbed into my tent and took my trousers off. Unfortunately it was not my tent - a middle aged couple woke up and began screaming. I fled across the campsite without my trousers - never did get them back.
I'd rather stay at home than go camping I don't like roughing it and need a proper bed for the night. The nearest I got was a tent in the garden in junior high school we got no sleep and spent the night talking about sex.
Comments
So more about your forgetfulness rather than camping itself.
Like the the joys of staying in a 5-star hotel - when you've forgotten to book a room and it's in the middle of a convention.
i know, it`s no laughing matter and people should be taking this thread seriously.
>:(
Until the Saturday night. At the other end of the field was a large group who seemed to be a big extended family. They got louder and drunker as the evening wore on. I turned in at about 12 and, unusually for me, was still awake an hour or two later when Mr Lakie came to bed. The raucous mob were totally stocious by this time, and lots of shouting and swearing had degenerated into a couple of fierce arguments and screaming. At one point, I think one of the wives had shut herself into her caravan because one the men was banging on the door and shouting "It's my f***ng beer, you f***ing bitch, give me my f***ing beer or I'll f***ing kill you, you c---" over and over again. After about 20 minutes, he started getting quieter and more slurred until he finally stopped.
Then things took a turn for the worst.
Two of the younger men decided that, when pissed out of your minds on a campsite in the middle of the night, it's a really good idea to race your 4x4 pick-up trucks round a camping field full of people trying to sleep in tents. It was scarey enough when they were going round their area and up and down the middle of the field where no-one had pitched, but when they started doing circuits of the perimeter I was frankly terrified. They were driving the trucks between my tent and the hedge, which was only about a 10' gap. A couple of times, I felt the tent shake as they clipped a guy rope. I'd've called the police, but there was no mobile signal and no on-site owner or manager. I couldn't work out whether I'd be safer in the car or not.
Then to make things a bit more difficult for themselves, they repeated the exercise with their head lights off. {{{{shudders}}}} Thankfully, that was fairly short lived as one them crashed into a car belonging to his dad, who came out and did a lot more shouty swearing. Amazingly, the then Mr Lakie and our friend slept through most of this.
The next day, loads of people complained to the owner who told them that some of them kept their caravans there all summer and he couldn't afford to lose their business.
Nowadays, I only stay at campsites where there are staff or owners on-site and a strictly enforced noise curfew, and never at bank holidays. That is the only properly bad experience I've had though, and I've been camping regularly for 42 years.
My worst experience though was trying to sleep in a tent with just a sheet. I don't usually feel the cold but I was probably close to hypothermia that night.
Was that Maldon in Essex?
that`s the fella. no idea why we were there.
my Renault Laguna sank In Normandy ..freak storm
I can believe it. I've been camping at the Lakes in May and it snowed ! It's a good job we've only got sheep and not lions and tigers and bears
Reading some of the posts has made me want to fish out the tent this summer, remembering to pack the bucket of course.
Indeed. We had people fall on top of us in our tent at a festival in Ireland
I've just posted that I might go and find the tent....reading that makes me think it might be best left in the garage
Oh blimey ! Was that on the way or on the way back ?
No bad experiences, we've had some great weather in all parts of the country from London to Scotland.
Non bike camping isn't much better, the first time we were woefully optimistic about how good the tent was, we camped just off a beach in Co. Down and the wind basically overpowered the tent poles, the camping stove didn't work and being NI, the local shop was shut for the sabbath. 2 days of wind, rain, cold EEC tinned meat and soggy digestives.
A special mention goes to the old crone in a campsite outside Keswick, there was a group of us pre booked in this campsite (or a muddy field complete with hoof marks and cow crap to be accurate) we arrived and there appeared to be nobody about, eventually some guy appeared and told us to pitch wherever we liked, so we did.
The next morning we were awakened by what appeared to be Zelda from Terrahawks trying to get into our tent and a general commotion, the old bat apparently owned the place and had taken exception to us being there despite having been booked months in advance and was going about trying to collapse people tents and ranting about disgusting people, she was clearly as mad as a loon, especially when she started kicking peoples cars and ranting about a sign, needless to say I've never been back near the lake district since.
The last time I went camping was about 5 years ago, there were a crowd of annoying student types who talked gibberish half the night, listening to "drugs are for mugs, and mugs are for tea, and I'd like some tea" at half four in the morning had me reaching for the peg mallet to do someone GBH.
I'd rather chew my own arm off as go camping again.
Omg I was there! It was Paradise. ;-)
Give it another try, but in Europe this time, preferably next to the Med or in the Alps. The bigger sites are more like holiday resorts with swimming pools, restaurants and supermarkets.
Last time I camped in the UK, it was next to the M25 (on the way to Dover), and cost me £16. It was completely dead by 8pm, with the gates closed, and I'd arrived just after! That took some persuasion to let me stay.
I stayed there last year! Well, at Le Paradis on the edge of Luxembourg.
The only hassle-free camping experience that I recall was getting p1ssed and sleeping in my mate's car at Donninington.
After a skinful, got back and climbed into my tent and took my trousers off. Unfortunately it was not my tent - a middle aged couple woke up and began screaming. I fled across the campsite without my trousers - never did get them back.