How not to camp
Updated: 5 days ago
With my camping ignorance and our sparkling new gear squashed into the car, we left Inverness on the NC500 coastal route up to John o'Groats.
We had the obligatory photograph at the most northerly spot on mainland Britain even though (allegedly) it's bad luck to have your picture taken if you didn't cycle here...
Given it was my first night in a tent, we pitched up at the Halladale Inn campsite (£15), just after Thurso. The Boyfriend (and I?) eventually got our unnecessarily large tent set up.
Feeling quite smug that we avoided being rained on, we unpacked our fancy camping accessories: two foldable chairs, a rug, mattresses, big sleeping bags etc. Ironically, our cool bag was not cool at all and leaked all over our bedding so everything got wet anyway.
I spent ages (foot) pumping up a mattress and couldn't believe how long it was taking when The Boyfriend pointed out that I'd not put the rubber plug in. Doh.
Undeterred by my rookie mistake, I set about making a dinner on the tiny cooker while the wind howled around the tent.
Happily, the dinner was edible. Sadly, the tent blew down soon after.
It would seem that the cycling curse of John o'Groats was true and absolutely nothing to do with the fact that we didn't fix the guy ropes properly to the ground.