Establishing camp is troublesome, disassembling worse; moments of relaxation and exploration are earned.
Even if you’re certain you’d dislike camping, I recommend giving it a try at least once. Because post-camping, you’ll realize that elements of luxury permeate every other holiday, from the simplicity of packing and unpacking to the comfort of showering and sleeping.
My first camping trip escapes my memory. Growing up, my mother was dedicated to ensuring her children explored as much of our home state as possible, even if it meant embarking on excessively long drives to remote areas. As a Brownie and later a girl guide, I developed a fondness for camping, and I had friends who shared the sentiment. Eventually, I married a man who enjoyed camping, and we had children who embraced it too.
Certainly, who wouldn’t be enticed? Breathtaking daytime views, starry night skies, exquisite beaches, and lush bush; moments for reading, wandering, swimming, contemplating, and conversing.
Yet, there are aspects that cut both ways. The absence of reception feels liberating until an emergency or car trouble arises; food somehow gains flavor, but unless a conveniently located shop is nearby, you must bring everything. If there are toilets, you contend with the smell; without them, finding a secluded spot becomes a delicate balance between avoiding being seen and not getting lost.
Certain facets of camping are not to my liking. Packing is arduous, involving not just clothes, bedding, and food, but also tents, tarps, a stove, fuel, lighter, an Esky, pots, pans, bowls, knives, spoons, washing-up liquid, towels, tea towels, chairs, chopping boards, mosquito repellent, hats, coats, jackets, beanies, scarves, swimwear, boots, torches, batteries for the torches, and first aid supplies.
Occasionally, encounters with predatory insects—mosquitoes, flies, leeches, jellyfish—arise. Possums, initially endearing, become less so when they spend the night unzipping bags, pilfering food, and engaging in more intense skirmishes than cats. Native mice, once cute, lose their charm when their nocturnal scuttling interrupts your sleep, instilling fear that they might crawl over your face. Snakes, spiders, and ants also pose occasional threats with their bites.
While there are moments of thrilling exploration and serene relaxation, earning them is a demanding task. You must pitch a tent before you can sleep, set up a makeshift kitchen before you can cook, and pack supplies—perhaps even a map—before embarking on a hike. Despite the anticipation of a good night’s sleep, lying in a synthetic fabric bag that rustles with every movement, on an air mattress that feels more like the ground than the air, in close proximity to other family members, may not necessarily be restorative.
The departure process also entails its share of labor: attempting to cram sleeping bags into seemingly undersized sacks, cleaning, drying, and packing up the tent. Upon returning home, another round of unpacking, cleaning, and organizing ensues.
As you drain the (brown) bathwater from the tub and scrub away the soiled ring it left behind, you may find yourself vowing never to camp again. However, the experience may yet yield dividends. The next time you embark on a trip to a place with walls, beds, electricity, and shops, you’ll be astounded by how effortlessly everything falls into place.
This realization struck me during my family’s last weekend getaway—at a house. Instead of meticulously listing necessities and checking off items in advance, we casually tossed some belongings into bags on the day. Rather than overseeing the kids’ packing or preparing meals in advance, I simply informed them of the number of nights we’d be away and let them handle their arrangements. Meals were unplanned, and I grabbed some items from the cupboard and fridge, knowing that supplies could be easily replenished.
En route, I casually mentioned that our laid-back approach might result in forgotten items but reassured myself that, as long as everyone had underwear, we would be fine. Ironically, at that moment, I realized I had neglected to pack underwear and veered slightly off course to rectify the oversight. Another revelation unfolded when our six-year-old, having diligently packed three pairs of pajamas for each night, forgot to include any daytime clothes. Additionally, one child remembered thongs but left shoes behind. While these mishaps might pose challenges in the wilderness, it was crucial to remember that we were staying in a HOUSE!
Mistakes in packing for camping can have serious consequences, such as risking hypothermia in the event of unexpected snowfall, potential starvation if food supplies run low, the inability to cook without sufficient fuel, or the darkness that ensues when all torch batteries expire. However, when the nearest shops are just a 20-minute drive away, the stakes are delightfully low. And let’s not even start on the luxuries: comfortable beds, electric lights, flushing toilets, privacy, and a refrigerator.
Even if you anticipate despising camping and regret your decision while there, the payoff comes afterward—when being in a regular house, even a run-down one, feels like the height of luxury.
