Bonfire On The Beach

Back to a fav topic of mine... yes, camping.

A night out under canvas is cheaper than a bowl of chips in most restaurants, so in these economically constrained times it makes sense to max out on camping.

See the bbc website if you don't believe me.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/7537641.stm

Anyway, I went with the family to Walberswick at the weekend - tent under one arm, crabbing net under the other.

I managed to survived two nights under flimsy, billowing fabric, and... whisper it quietly... everyone enjoyed it, including I, Lord Loafy.

If you have never heard of the place, Walberswick is in Suffolk, a county that is as flat, if not flatter, than Carla Bruni's chest.

Anyway, there is a campsite there right next to the beach. When the kids wake up in the morning, instead of saying to them, "go and watch some telly," it feels so much better to be able to say, "go to the beach it's only 10 metres away."

I should have warned them about the hoverflies though.

A plague of them suddenly arrived from Holland. Along with a profusion of ladybirds (or ladyboys as I jokingly referred to them as) and flying beetles, an ideal Saturday morning on the beach quickly descended into an ordeal with everyone constantly twitching their bodies or shaking/flicking their limbs about. We were all suddenly burdened by a series of unusual nervous tics.

There was only one solution. As soon as the pub opened seek sanctuary there.

Despite rain of biblical proportions being predicted, it rained only once. It wasn't all blinding sunshine though, it was more the typical british summer weather of greyish skies and high winds. Bracing I think is the word I am looking for.

In my last post I predicted beer would feature regularly during the weekend. And it did. Adnams beer to be precise. Not bad, but come Sunday afternoon... again I will whisper it quietly... I must say I was glad to be able to sit down in a tearoom and not a pub. I was bored of beer and sick of dodgy pub grub.

The highlight for me though was Saturday night.

At around 10pm when the light and insects had fully drained away, and after a long walk along the beach, we chose to have a bonfire in the dunes. The wind had dropped to zero and other people at the campsite had had a similar idea. Soon, there was a string of bonfires along the beach. It was someone's birthday and some fireworks were set off on the beach followed by the release of a series of Chinese flying lanterns. It was beautiful. I could have stayed there all night especially after one of my children fell asleep in my arms by the fire.

Sometime after midnight with the kids in bed, I took my electric toothbrush down to the beach and brushed my teeth while listening to the crashing waves and counting the stars. It took me sometime to count them all, my teeth have never been so clean.

Camping is great.

But coming home is great too.

There's the airless, stuffy rooms to look forward to, and the sudden lack of space. There's also the overwhelming need to defecate (after having rendered yourself shitless for the last two days) and the pile of red bills awaiting your urgent attention by the front door.

All of it screams, "Welcome home sucker!"

I think I'm going to have myself a red bill bonfire in the back garden.

Miss Money Bikini

Want to avoid this happening?

Money just flushing itself down the plughole...

Do you want to try and save money instead?

Or at least spend less of it?

Well, join the flippin' club, I'm a founder member, what with having been made re-fucking-dudant and all!

Tell me who is stupid enough not to want to ?!

An investment banker maybe... surely there should be a W there instead of a B.

So anyway... I am always on the look out for money-saving tips on the Internet. It's not the only thing I check out on the Internet, see below for an example of what else I have found.

Ay caramba! Now that is what I call an economic model!!

Anyway, this site I have linked to via this none-too-subtle 'so check it out whydontcha?' tagline seems like a good one.

So check it out whydontcha?

It's a bunch of videos giving you everyday tips on how you can save a ton of money on a whole load of everyday stuff. It even has people like Suze Orman and Martin Lewis the MoneySavingExpert on it so it can't be all bad.

Have a read, while I go off camping for the weekend.

Yes, it is going to rain solidly for the next 48 bloody hours.

Can't wait.

To get back home, that is.

Or else shelter in a pub run by Miss Money Bikini.

Hmmm... Lord Loafer is suddenly terribly terribly thirsty.

I think I'm going to get wet, both inside and out.

Camping Is The New Rock N Roll

First it was comedy that got lumbered with the 'new rock n roll' tag, now it's camping.

Yawn.

Where have you people been all this time? I am the O.C.B. (Original Camping Bore) - I have been camping for years - often not through choice. Probably even before rock n roll itself was invented.

Before I go on... let me bore you with this thought. What if you take your tent along to a music festival such as Glastonbury? Do two lots of rock n roll (i.e. real 'rock n roll' - music - and camping) mingling together effectively cancel each other, or do the two in tandem just enhance the overall rock n roll factor significantly, perhaps leading to a new 'new rock n roll' tag altogether?

Yes? No? "Who bloody cares, Lord Layabout?" I hear you shout.

Fair point.

Camping then...

Now, everyone, including grandparents, is suddenly at it. I looked out of my window this morning and witnessed what looked like a mass migration of wilderbeast. In fact, it was hordes of camping virgins heading down to the local Argos for their cheap-as-chips camping starter kit.

Camping has become really popular. If there was a political party with camping as part of its central manifesto, loads of people would vote for it I reckon. It has even become 'Cool'. Dreadful I know, but there you go.

The weather and recession are no doubt jointly responsible for this strange phenomenon. I am glad to report, by contrast, that caravanning remains as sexy as Margaret Thatcher wearing a beige suit. Caravanning is, and always will be, for small-minded losers with little or no libido.

Here, if you are interested, are Lord Loafer's five reasons why he (I mean me) is into camping:

• The pain/pleasure principle that underpins much of your average camping trip, gives you a tantalising glimpse of what full-blown Sadomasochism might feel like.

• You get to lie in a field surrounded by strangers who insist on belching and farting alot.

• The combination of light, noise and stifling humidity inside your tent leaves you permanently dehydrated and sleep-deprived.

• You remain unwashed for long enough to take on the resemblance of a homeless vagrant. As a result, when you visit a nearby town centre you are arrested for loitering and spend a night in the cells. It is bliss compared to the campsite.

• Camping makes you constipated. You visit the campsite toilet religiously, only to discover with depressing regularity that your bowels remain locked tight and on strike despite your obvious need to defecate. In desperation you take to trying to shit in the woods. When, at last you are successful, elation turns quickly to despair as you realise your warm, homemade log has somehow ended up inside your wellington boot.
  

For me though, the best bit about camping is the coming home. Your own bed has never felt so great, your bath/shower never such a moment of ecstasy. And to eat something other than barbequed dog... pure pleasure.

Carry on Camping as Sid James once suggested. It is so much fun.

Yak Yak Yuck.