Campingninja Blog

Today is the first day back at work after my camping holiday and what a drag it is.  It has been a while so what's changed since I've been away?  The introduction of the Boris bike, thanks to which I've already nearly been run over by cyclists on 3 occasions this morning.  For they are the bikes that seem to attract people who haven't been on a bike for the last 20 years and despite the saying 'it's like riding a bike – you never forget', these people clearly have forgotten, as they wobble around steering from left to right, cycling into the path of as many pedestrians as possible.  Unless that's their aim? Thank goodness for the cycling bells, for those who's aim it isn't, that's all I can say.  That ringing has saved my life at least once already today.
 
Everyone in the office, except my boss is excited to see me back and eager to hear tales of my camping adventures.  So I start with Freda the duck, our surfing trip and then move onto the adventure over the cows and a very detailed explanation of the reason we were unable to leave the campsite to come back to work.  'There were 17 of them in total.  A rare breed herd of cows blocking the exit road out of the campsite.  One was big, with massive brown eyes and the longest eyelashes of all the cows and this one stood at the front.  Then there was the smaller, brown and white spotted cow who stood behind it mooing.  A little bit like this – moo, moo.  Next to that one, is where the third cow would stand and this one made a different sound.  A deep bellowing moo, kind of like moooooo, moooooo, mooooo, moooooo...' I begin to explain.

My angry boss threatens no more holiday for the rest of the year and says that I can forget about my time booked off in a few weeks, but luckily there's the employment loophole at our office that protects me from this cruel abomination – that my next holiday is already booked.  Just one of the many benefits of booking your campsite online with Campingninja.com as it just so happens that I have a conveniently printed out copy of my booking confirmation in the top drawer of my desk, which when presented to my, who I'm now thinking I should be referring to as evil boss, ensures that any time off for holidays that are already booked will be granted.

This is when it all starts to get a bit nasty and my boss steps up her anger level.  In fact she's so, so angry.  I remember a tip from the 'how to deal with an unruly and irritating boss' training course I went on once before, run by Ted from accounts and held at the back of the car park.  We all paid a black market entrance fee of post its and Mars bars and left them in undisclosed carrier bags around the office for him to pick up when no one was looking.  His recommendation would be to throw the situation back at them.  So on this advice, I take great pleasure in reminding my boss of the time she was stuck in a traffic jam on the way into work and didn't make it in to the office until the afternoon, just like I had been unable to get back work.  My comments go down like a lead balloon with a hippopotamus tied to the end!  Is it the weekend yet?  Time to hire a Boris bike and make a quick getaway out of here I think!

'No, I can't come out to the pub tonight.  I'm washing my hair' I told everyone. 

'What are you talking about?  No one ever sees your hair!' they all said, making reference to my daily ninja bandanna wearing.

The truth is, it was a Saturday night and I was staying in as I needed to have to have some serious words with the cat.  Tonight seemed like a rare opportunity when a) the cat was actually awake and b) it had been 7 whole hours since it had last hissed at me.  Most of all, it needed to be told and tonight was going to be the night.

So I approached the cat, armed with some sardine and trout flavoured dry biscuits in case things got nasty and began the negotiations. 

'First of all Cat, please, whatever you do, do not hiss at me'.  I tossed one of the biscuits towards it by way of a peace offering.  Then remembered that if it was going to hiss, the biscuit I'd just given it would make it's breath even more fishy than usual.  Not a wise move on my part.

'And number 2, the tent that had been out of it's bag and lying in the corner of the lounge before  we went away, is one of my favourite tents for camping.  When you use it as a bed during the day when I'm out at work and you think I won't notice, I do. 

Because tents are waterproof and when you claw it when you're doing your little cat thing, as I know you have been, it makes lots of little holes in it.  So the next time I go camping and it rains, the tent leaks!  Which is what happened while I was away.

So no more sleeping on the tent, OK?'

All things understood, I went off into the kitchen to make a drink.  I heard the cat flap go and looked out of the kitchen window to find that the was cat scaling the edge of the tent I had put up in the garden earlier to dry, climbing with claws!

I shook my head.  Why, oh why did renting the house come with a cat instead of a dog?  Dogs are  apparently man's best friend.  What are cats supposed to be?  Little devils?  Probably why the tenants before moved out. 

After a long time away camping I arrived home, back at the front door for what I pretend is and in my perspective is the way I like to think of it as, a washing turnaround before my next camping trip. As I turned the key in the lock and the door flung open, I dropped my heavy bag down onto the floor with a plop! There's a lot of washing to be done when you're a ninja, believe it or not.

Some people think that because I wear the same ninja head and neck scarves everyday that they literally are the same ones, but they couldn't be more wrong.

In my ninja wardrobe (that I took camping with me and is now ready to be washed) there are precisely:

13 bandanna's (lucky for some)

11 ninja neck scarves

1 ninja knapsack

14 ninja shirts

2 ninja jackets

7 Campingninja t-shirts

4 hoodies

16 ninja trousers and 15 pairs of shorts

37 ninja socks, making 18 pairs and 1 spare (1 was lost in action camping in the New Forest)

3 pairs of ninja boots

1 pair of flip flops

1 pair of trainers

1 lonely Croc

And perhaps contrary to public opinion, being a ninja, some really top secret, highly classified information is that unlike other fighting commandos, ninjas – especially camping ninjas and this one in particular – don't go commando. I own 34 pairs of boxers, but ssh! Keep it a secret. Don't let all the ladies know or it'll ruin my ninja charm!

And now, minus 1 lost Croc, all machine washable items from the list above are waiting to go in the wash. A busy day ahead.

Woke up this morning to the noise of what sounded like an aeroplane taking off above the tent. Got up and came out of my tent to investigate and found Eric packing his tent away and blow drying it with a hairdryer! Yep, that's a hairdryer for all those in disbelief. Crazy guy!!

I didn't know him personally, but as the legend goes, it was Gandhi who once said 'there is more to life than simply increasing its speed'.

As we mourn the last night of our long and extremely extended summer camping trip, sitting on the hilltop at the end of the campsite that has come to feel so much like home, watching the sun as it begins to set and truly appreciating the peacefulness and slow pace of life here, we celebrate the good times, laughing together remembering the moments that will bring us so many lasting memories for years to come.

I guess this is what Gandhi was talking about. Four friends sitting together on a hilltop, simply appreciating life for what it is.

A good time camping with great friends. It's a shame that this one has come to an end. We raise our glasses of a rather strong but delicious, locally made elderflower champagne, make a toast and take a drink to the next ones.

Sometimes no matter how hard you try you just cannot escape the facts. Much to my disgust I will soon be back at work. So to prepare myself and in an attempt to minimise the almost inevitable culture shock I will no doubt experience when I'm back on the underground, commuting to and from work instead of being here - my preferred choice of being above ground in the open air and daylight and preferably camping - I've got Eric on board to help me prepare by zipping and unzipping the tent door and saying 'mind the doors, mind the doors, mind the closing doors' while I run in and out of the tent trying not to get an arm, leg, head or shoe caught in the closing doorway, which does so often happen on the busy tubes during rush hour.

The rest I can cope with. Standing on one leg like a flamingo inside the train because there's only space available for one more foot to be on the ground is fine for me. I'm a ninja. In fact it's not all that different to the flamingo ninja move I've spent years perfecting my balance for. All the same though, why spend time imitating a feathery, pink bird on a train if you don't have to? The camping lifestyle definitely gets my vote.

Now before I loose concentration and potentially an arm too I must get back to my dodge the closing door antics. I'd better let Eric know too, that that there'll be no need to for us to go through a practice of me having my face squashed up in someone's sweaty armpit. That can't be good for friend and house mate relations!

The bubble is about to burst. Albeit on my magic bubble wand but metaphorically too as my world has just come crashing back to reality with a bump! After having listened to numerous voice mail messages left on my ninjabile from my boss at work over the last couple of weeks, the bump is realising that unfortunately the time has come for us to finish being on holiday and to go home.

Ranging from the first concerned, motherly 'Camping Ninja are you ok? Where are you? You did not come back to work today, we are worried about you' message, to the angry 'Camping Ninja. Where the **** are you?' message, to the complete opposite end of the spectrum, or in this case it must be the universe - the ferociously and very scarily angry '**** *** Camping Ninja!! You better **** ***** ****** ***** ******* back here right now or I'll ****** ***** **** **** *****!!!!!' message.

Ouch! It hurt my ear just listening to them. Quick, delete, delete, delete and switch off before she has the chance to ring back and mention the dreaded words, P45! Eeek! Imagine the angriest person you know and then double it, and double it again and that is what my boss is.

In actual fact the cows have been long gone for a good few weeks now and the exit road re-opened so we could have got back home and back to work quite some time ago really. We have been away for a while. Much longer than we first anticipated but it has been so good and time has really flown by. Isn't that always the way when you're having fun?

It's just so easy to forget what day of the week it is when you're on holiday and having a great time. Sundays seem no different to Mondays or Fridays and all days rolls into one, equal to a weekend in a regular working week.

So dismally we gathered around the camping kettle and took in the bad news, that most unfortunately and ever so sadly, we would in fact have to go back home to go back to work very soon.

They say money doesn't grow on trees but apparently snails do!

See exhibit A (right).

Snapshot of the day – the snail tree.

I made a hand picked juicy blackberry cheesecake this afternoon. A tad complicated and not the easiest thing to make when you're camping either. I was having one of those crazy creative moments in our camping kitchen and had the brainwave of a blackberry cheesecake. Something quite unique and a little bit different to the strawberry and blackcurrant ones we sometimes buy from the shops. Although the hush-hush element no camping chef likes to admit, is that it did involve going to the local shop and buying a ready made cheesecake and then I hand picked the blackberries to go on top myself. Ultimately a 100% hand picked cheesecake. Hand picked from the shelf in the supermarket and hand picked berries from the prickly blackberry bush too. Anyway, it looked looked delicious and we all tucked in.

The puzzling thing was though, that some mouthfuls were amazingly delicious and the next mouthfuls were completely disgusting. Some bites were lovely and then the bites that followed were quite repulsive.

'Bleuk!' we all said.

All eyes glared across at me, with inquisitive faces and thoughts racing across their minds. They didn't need to say anything. I could almost tell what they were thinking and in any case, I was sure I was thinking the same thing.

'Maybe the blackberries are off' someone said.

'They can't be. I picked them fresh this morning with my own ninja hands' I replied, proudly opening a Tupperware box and showcasing the remainder of the blackberries I'd picked earlier.

There was a gasp of 'oooh' as Eric looked into the Tupperware box, impressed.

'The bigger ones look nice' remarked Elwood.

'That, is not a blackberry!' Susie exclaimed, pointing at one of the smaller, flatter fruits.

Well there's no need to be size-ist I thought, ushering the poor, runted blackberries away.

'I do not know what it is but that (as she pointed disgustedly) is not a blackberry!' she repeated, as if we hadn't heard her the first time.

It was a steep learning curve on the blackberry front for me. You see there are blackberries and there are fake blackberries. They may look like the same thing but they taste completely different and taste is the all important difference between a nice juicy blackberry and a concoction so vile that it made us all gag with every mouthful. One berry makes great cheesecakes and the other one is really only meant to be eaten by desperately hungry pigeons. And yet they grow happily alongside each other on lookalike bushes of beauty and the beast waiting for some unsuspecting hands to pick them off and pop them on top of a cheesecake.

The whole thing was such an unfortunate episode that due to the severity of the blackberry blunder, I had to make a pact to stick to only cooking scrambled eggs for the rest of the week, with a promise to be more cautious with my ingredients in the camping kitchen in future. Oh well, chicken magic for the rest of the week it is then!