I’m not sure if you could say that we were excited to be going camping, we’re a couple of cold-blooded old fogeys, but it was nice to be putting stuff inside the trailer ready for a few days down at Rondeau.
It had been hot enough to boil a monkey’s bum all week, but the weather broke a bit on Saturday night, and we set off on Sunday afternoon in warm sunshine, not the thirty-plus degrees of earlier, which was a great relief to all. Why Sunday? Well, Mr. Organisation here had left booking anything a bit late and a Sunday start was the only time we could get a span of three nights at the Park. In the eight years we’ve had this trailer, the booking of sites has just gone crazy and, if you want a summer weekend then you’d better be booking six months in advance. I was thinking that I’d have to do something to reduce the appeal of camping at Rondeau, you know like committing some grizzly murders or something, but maybe I should get my life sorted out and book a bit earlier in future.
So, into our routine at the campground, we dumped the tanks first (that was the residue from cleaning operations rather than some historic 2018 poops) and filled up with fresh water, then headed over to the site. We’re on a corner plot and there’s an emergency escape road just opposite, so I drove into that ready to back up on to the site without having to make too much of a turn. No sooner had I started in than a woman on a bicycle came up, gesticulating wildly that I couldn’t get out that way. She meant well, but those grizzly murders came to mind again.
Anyway, we backed up, positioned, and I went to put the wheel chocks in. Bug City or what? I was pounced upon by hoards of blood-thirsty critters, all intent on draining me of my lifeblood, the little bastards. Deb leapt into action by liberally dousing me in bug repellent as I worked, brushing the little swine from my clothes and adding more spray when I was least expecting it, but they were persistent. Maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but the bugs were out to get me! It’s true! I’m getting really worried that I’m becoming paranoid, believe it or not.
Throughout our preparations for this trip, the hound was getting ever more anxious. She sat patiently in the air-conditioned car while we set up, but once out, she was a mass of panting and drooling, not sure if she was going to be abandoned in this god forsaken place by her heartless pack. I fed her, walked her and generally fussed around her, but it was some hours before she really settled down. I don’t think she’s much of a camper, she really doesn’t not like her sleep patterns, sorry, her daily routine, disturbed.
So, a quiet afternoon and evening was spent inside, hiding from the bugs. I’ll own up to having a bit of a doze, but that’s what being on your holidays is all about, isn’t it? Once the sun had gone behind the trees, we opened the windows on the trailer for bit of a through breeze, and just relaxed. The weather reports had the Park slated for storms all afternoon, but none arrived, which was nice. I did put the awning away before we turned in, though, just in case the storms turned up late; I didn’t want to wake up to a mass of tangled metal and canvas in the morning. I know, I lack that spirit of adventure, but Zip Dee awnings are expensive and I’m not a rich man.
While moaning about mosquitos and other bitey things, I do have to mention the fireflies, of which there were hundreds in and around the trees. They put on quite a light show; it's just a pity they share their airspace with crazed and vicious things wot bite.
We had a night of sharing the bed with a fidgety 70-pound Greyhound to look forward to, but with the windows open and the fireflies banging their heads on the window screens, I could think of worse places to be.
Mr Toad - Airstreamer
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