Camping, glamping and Gruffalo stamping

This weekend the boy and me went native. Well, we went camping in a teepee with my two friends and their small people. It was, in the most middle-class of ways, ‘glamping’. No putting tents up and threatening tent poles, no sleeping bags with unfathomable zips – just a lovely big teepee with fur-covered seats and a welcome chimenea.

Off we went, the car, smothered under a weight of eiderdown and blueberries, ham sandwiches and wine. Lots and lots of wine.


We had such a fab time, it really was a chance to do something different and with three two-year-olds it was a perfect getaway. Ok, it wasn’t relaxing. When two of the terrors started jumping up and down on next doors decking it did raise my blood pressure slightly. Although it lent itself to some imaginative play! The man next door appeared almost naked and growling at the teepee door ( I know they don’t have doors but I really have an aversion to the word flaps). “Are these your f***king kids?!”. He quickly became known as the Gruffalo and no child dared to bounce on his decking again!

Arthur definitely went a bit ferral and there were moments I thought he would explode at being allowed to run around outside so much. Sleep was somewhat lacking and this did show itself in the odd grisly session or a bit of over-enthusiatic pushing and pulling.

Showering with a two-year-old is not easy so we only did it once – how liberating to be dirty and really not care. Instead of going through our usual routines at night we simply laid in the teepee reading stories, and waiting for them to go to sleep. Granted it took a while but they went eventually and for a couple of days it didn’t matter.

We spent the two evenings with our lovely chimenea warming the teepee and the days wandering round rather cold beaches and open farms, with delicious fish and chips, train rides and sheep sheering thrown in.

On another note, I forgot my phone charger, which, to begin with, seemed like the end of the world. But once I accepted it, it was rather lovely not to check my phone and email every ten minutes.

I loved it, time with two very lovely friends and their children and time with my boy. Driving home I was tired and looking forward to a hot bath. The pile of washing staring at me from the back of the car signaled the end of a brilliant weekend.

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