Whenever I want an escape, a chance to be calm and just slow down I go camping. Its the only time when I can truly disconnect, sit uninterrupted for hours reading a book, just sitting in my camp chair with a glass of wine and not a care in the world.
Camping by the beach is a long cry from the deeps woods of New Hampshire or upstate New York, and although I still struggle with not having a campfire, it was just what we needed when Jimmy and I hit the road and found the perfect campground just an hour away. He surfed, I read, we walked along the beach, had steaks on the BBQ, listened to the crashing waves and talked about how this was just about perfect. Well almost perfect.
Remove the large group of unruly lunatics who decided to peel into the campground after dark only to go to bed at 6am, and it would have been perfect. Let's just say I'm a slight sleeper and when anyone screws with my sleep, you will awaken in me a homicidal rage that can't be controlled. Looking back my behaviour was both embarrassing and hilarious as I got up about 15 times that night to try and ask them to be quiet or even better just go away but my attempts were useless so the weekend was a slightly less perfect than I had imagined. Yes, it's official, i've turned in that crazy woman who complains about noise and who ruins campground fun - god help us all.