Campingninja Blog

Royal wedding eve.  The day that urban camping – bravely pitching a tent on an exceptionally busy concrete pavement in ever so slightly windy weather, without guy ropes pinning it down – became comfortable and royal weddingly cool.

After a less peaceful night’s sleep than you can probably count on on more regular, tranquil camping trips, there’s sure to be no doubt that the happy urban campers will wake up tomorrow morning, almost as excited as Miss Middleton herself, proudly stick their little pinky fingers out as they hold their memorabilia Prince and Princess mugs, and in a rather quintessentially British fashion, toast a camping flask of tea to the happy couple.   

To Wills and Kate.  Congratulations Your Royal Highness.  Thanks for bringing camping to the capital!

Twas the morning before Easter and there was not but a sound.  Taking a morning walk before our camping breakfast, I meandered into the nearest town.  The smell of freshly baked croissants wafted into the air as I passed restaurants with all their windows open, letting in the warm early-summer-of-April air.  My stomach started rumbling as I tried to fight the desire to go inside and dine on a slap up Easter breakfast.  Then it became a growl, so I had no choice but to go in for food.

Glancing over the sumptuous menu, being Cadbury’s Creme Egg season I thought it only right to go for the seasonal special of Eggs du Jour.  Ummmm.  Chocolate eggs for breakfast, the best thing on an Easter weekend.  I placed my order and waited eagerly in anticipation of the chocolate delight that was about to be upon me.

Soon enough, the waiter reappeared with a chicken!  He placed it down next to my table and without explanation, went back inside.  It goes without saying that it had very quickly become an awkward situation.  Was the chicken going to lay me some chocolate eggs?  I gulped.  And gulped again and again at the thought of it for there was real doubt in my mind whether I would physically be able to eat warm, freshly laid chocolate eggs.  At that moment I couldn’t think of anything worse.  Frantically skimming my eyes back over the menu, I looked desperately, for some kind of clarification of the nature of Eggs du Jour.  All it said was ‘fresh’.  Ahhhhhhh!  That scared me even more!

The chicken simply sat there looking at me, probably laughing in her chicken head at the ninja afraid of warm chocolate chicken eggs.  Or was that just me being more paranoid than a hacked into android phone?  Who knew, but the chicken sure was taking its time with my breakfast order.

Be brave ninja, be brave, I thought, and I plucked up the courage to ask the chicken about the eggs that I really didn’t want to have to eat anymore.

‘I don’t mean to rush you chicken.  Please, take your time.  Just one thing to ask you – it is chocolate eggs on the way isn’t it, for Easter?’.  The chicken seemed to do some forward head waggling by way of an answer, but what did it mean?  I didn’t speak chicken! 

‘OK.  Just do your best, chicken.  Just do your best’ I told it.  But what was I doing talking to a chicken?  It was completely crazy!  If only I’d stayed at the campsite everything would have been OK.  I was sure of it.

With no movement from the chicken it felt as if I was going to be in for the long haul, waiting for the eggs.  In the end, we’d become so acquainted I decided to take the chicken back to the campsite to meet the others.  I paid an exceptionally pricey breakfast bill and left an enormous tip for the on loan for a day chicken that I carried in my arms.

Walking back through the town on my way back to the campsite, I couldn’t help but notice, well, it was blindingly obvious really, that not one, not two, but fifteen other hungry looking people, were also carrying chickens like mine in their arms.

Was that what Eggs du Jour meant?  A chicken on loan for the day?  It was unbelievably baffling.  I temporarily named the chicken Featherby Ninja and would return her to the restaurant at the end of the day.

A very Happy (but slightly strange) Easter to all chocolate egg and chicken lovers out there!

As a fanatical camper I’m always on the lookout for new ninja fast ways to catch up on recent developments and innovations of the camping industry and tents in particular.  Having breezed past an advert for Google’s new voice search for mobile app, from the window of the train on my way home, I was keen to give it a try in my quest to find the latest tents on the market.

Say it to get it.  So I whispered into the ninjabile.  ‘New tents’… Nothing came up.

I tried again, this time slightly louder and at much risk of the resulting evil glares from the rest of the people in my quiet zone train carriage.  ‘New tents’… Still there was nothing.
 
So I went back to whispering but this time, with a much more articulated whisper.  ‘Nnnnew tentts’… Nothing again.

‘Neyou taents’ I whispered precisely one more time.  And bingo!  There I had it.  A search result for … mutants.  Mutants?!  Flabbergasted, I looked at the ninjabile in contempt.
 
Oh well.  I always was a fan of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  In fact some say they taught me everything I know as a ninja.  Turtle power!

With all the different tents you can see at campsites, there really is something for everyone.  From trailer tents and camper vans, to caravans, little pop up tents and 8 man palaces, big tents, small tents, and of course ninja tents too, there are many different styles of camping homes to choose from.  Now that's diversity.  And I don't mean as in the dance troupe (they're cool and everything but I'm much more of a Peridot fan myself).  

If it's true what they say about dogs looking like their owners, I wonder if the same applies to tents?  (That's tents that look like their owners, not tents that look like dogs!)...  Looking around our campsite, it does seem to be the case.

Proud owner of a tent that looks like you or not, as every camper knows, no matter how much you love your own tent, there's always another one at the campsite that catches your eye and admiration too.     

In amongst a field of tents encompassing decades of style – 70s cool and simplicity, tents with a little bit of an 80s flavour, and tents from the early 90s that can't help but remind you of a pair of Bermuda shorts – this one here would be my favourite today (as per ninja cam photo). 

To the tent of the day - a retro gem of a tent, and the tent to steal a ninja's heart away.

Win this Egg Trail Kit

An amazing Cadburys Easter Egg Trail Kit

brilliant for everyone.... who said kids have the monopoly on chocolate?

How do you win it?

Just make any booking with Campingninja by 18th April

and you will be entered into the prize-draw to win automatically

You'll get the Egg Trail Kit delivered before Easter!

Click here to find an amazing campsite, make a booking and be well on your
way to a truly egg-cellent prize.

(please excuse the egg puns - they are just too easy and we couldn't resist!)

Friday 1^st of April. I turned another page on my calendar to mark the beginning of the new month. 'Pinch, punch, first of the month, no return', I said to myself as I looked in the mirror, checking to see if I'd aged suddenly overnight for the start of the new month. Thankfully there had been no new wrinkles during the month of March. So I was good to start April with only one, the wrinkle I get when I pull my don't-mess-with-me-I'm-a-ninja mean face when anyone tries to cross me. Doesn't happen very often. Except for today, as the ninja looking back at me in the mirror was deviously out to get me with a pinch and a punch. 'I said NO return' I exclaimed angrily. Huhhh. It was going to take me a long time to de-anger from that one. 4 minutes later it was all forgotten and I happily trundled down the stairs to get my breakfast.

It made a nice change to be able to walk freely into the kitchen without the cat running in and out from between my feet trying to trip me up on the way to the cereal cupboard. Perhaps this was the start of a new beginning and improved breakfast time relations between me and the cat. Although thinking about it, surely it was too good to be true. Maybe it was up to some other mischief elsewhere. So I went off in search of the cat.

'Cat, Ca-at, where are you Cat?' I called out in the back garden. It was such a catchy, yet unoriginal name that all the cats in the neighbourhood leapt onto the fence and came running at me from across the garden. Generally, I'm not one for swearing, but at that moment it seemed so necessary. 'Sh*t, shi*t, shi*t!'. I shut the door quickly so none of them could get inside. To have any more cats running in between my feet every time I opened up a box of shredded wheat would simply be terrible.

The postman dropped the post through the letterbox and when I went to pick it up, there was the cat, sitting impatiently by the front door, surrounded by camping gear. It was a bit odd.

I took a closer look. Tucked under one paw was an envelope addressed to the Camping Ninja. It took a little while to prise it away from under the paw, and involved some grappling with claws but despite almost being shredded, when I managed to get the note out it was still readable.

On the first page it read 'Dog friendly campsites. What about taking cats camping? Meow'. I flicked over to page two. It was a handwritten Campingninja booking confirmation for a 3 night camping trip, booked by the cat.

But why was the Campingninja booking confirmation a handwritten note? And in pencil? And how did the cat get online to make the booking in the first place? Was the feline persuasion planning on taking over the camping world?

It looked as if the cat was really taking the whole camping thing seriously. It had a roll mat and a food bowl, and carefully selected dinners for the next three nights. Cat food pouches of tuna and mackerel, beef and carrots in gravy, turkey casserole in jelly, and a box of salmon and rice flavour biscuits. I couldn't think of anything worse. What was wrong with custard creams? I always take custard creams with me when I go camping. The cat's dinners were not my preferred choices. In fact I wouldn't be able to eat any of them. I'd have to get my own dinners too. So out came the space raiders from the cupboard.

Hang on a minute...

Cats can't write, and the cat had a bit of a grumpy face on and that was not the face of a cat who was looking forward to their camping trip. I put two and two together, and some beef and carrots together as I opened up one of the dinner pouches to try and cheer the cat up. My ninja detective skills left no doubt in my mind that the handwriting on the note actually belonged to my housemate Eric.

Very funny, Eric. Very, very funny. I laughed, remembering that it was April Fools' Day. Ha ha.

...A little bit annoyed that someone else managed to trick me on April Fools' Day. Not good for the ninja reputation. My don't-mess-with-me-I'm-a-ninja wrinkle began to show as I made a mental note to self; revenge next year!