The tent is flapping like crazy. I can hear the waves crashing on the rocks below and I have to admit I am feeling, not scared, but definitely out of my comfort zone. It's my first night of "wild" camping and it does feel pretty wild to me. I am up on the cliff tops, just outside of Portreath.
I only walked 6 miles today. When I arrived in Portreath I found a great cafe with free wifi posted on the window and I ended up staying there all afternoon, checking emails, looking at Facebook etc. It didn't seem like there was anywhere good to camp and because it wasn't raining I didn't want to do a b&b. I have a new rule (one that I am sure to break) - if it is raining, I can get a b&b but then not eat out and if it isn't raining I have to camp and then I can treat myself to eating out. This will keep the cost down a little
So with lack of campsites and feeling as though I hadn't done that much today (as remember 6 miles is now a piece of cake for me) I decided to walk out of town and camp up on the cliffs. I went to the nearest "cost cutter" my new favourite shop and bought some noodles to cook up for dinner. I also thought it was about time I used the stove and pots I have been carrying around with me. I finally got a canister for the stove the other day but I was unsure if it was the right one and hadn't wanted to cause an explosion (could that happen with the wrong gas?) in Porthminster b&b as I had liked it there too much. So anyway I got Pete to try it out last night and it didn't explode.
I struggled up the cliff with a bag of food and full bottle of water to add to my load. Couldn't find anywhere appropriate to camp. Those perfectly mowed flat areas I had been seeing along my route so far, and noted as so perfect for camping, were no where to be found. All I could find were steep, lumpy banks of gorse, heather and thistles. There was a flat area I considered but it was very close to the cliff edge and it was awfully windy. I had visions of the wind picking up the tent in the middle of the night, with slumbering ali inside and acting as a parachute, it would float gently down to the sea below. I would awake as the cold Atlantic entered my sleeping bag and in a confused, panicked state I would drown, trapped in my REI quarter dome tent that had become my coffin in the sea. Oh my god, now I am scaring myself.
Anyway didn't camp there. Jumped the little stone wall instead and I am camped in a farmers field. Now I am worried that a crazed farmer will beat me to death in the middle of the night or stick his pitch fork in me, finally tipped over the edge by the millionth illegal camper on his land. Or perhaps another herd of bulls (this time with rings in their noses) will stampede my tent in the night.
Enough of that, but weird how we become accustomed to having civilisation around us at night. It is ok to be out in the wild during the day but at night well, that's different. Do guys have these thoughts when they are alone or is it just us women? I just wish the tent would stop flapping, it's unnerving.
So I turned on the stove, ready to cook my noodles but it was so windy, sitting on uneven ground in long grass and I felt a little uncomfortable when the blades of grass started to ignite. So I scrapped dinner and ate the avocado sandwich Pete had so kindly made me in an effort to improve my diet and supplemented that with salted peanuts and a star bar (I really love these!)
Now I am considering taking a sleeping pill pilfered from the sample cupboard at work. I need to sleep well tonight as I have a big day tomorrow. Please, PLEASE, don't let it rain in the night or tomorrow.
If I go missing, don't bother looking down the mine shafts, I will be floating on the sea in my green and orange REI quarter dome.
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