Just been having a moan in Chat about this fekken weather. I told 'em that I confess that I used to love camping, but, with sadness in our hearts, DH and I decided, last summer that we wouldn't be going again as a family. Though we are well equipped (all that ££!) and have gone every 'summer' for 8 odd years in the UK, the reality is that in this small, overcrowded island, because you have to commit to a holiday, and pretty much pay up front for it months in advance, even camping, we will from now on go to where there's guaranteed sun, hence a week in a villa in Mallorca at the start of the summer hols. Like for everyone, our holidays are precious and I am simply not going to allow the increasingly awful English summer holiday weather to wreck it for us again, thus losing both that supposedly 'happy time' for us all and being quite heavily out of pocket.. ( and spending the following week trying to clean and dry acres of tent).
We have the first and last weeks of the DCs summer hols off as a family, so if the weather has made a miraculous, long term ie 'longer than 2 days' recovery, I might phone around for a campsite in the UK, but I know that they'll all be 'full' on their booking sheet though 'empty' as in no shows or abandonments! And of course, I am a bit fussy about what I want on a campsite, so the 'good ones' are booked from one year to the next. They all cost the same, anyway!
Maybe once the DC are older and DH and I can make more last minute decisions and have a smaller range of kit, we may be able to get back into it, but really, right now, it's becoming a bit pointless. Do you find yourself sitting inside your shut up tent, rain hammering down all around, congratulating yourself on how well set up you are and how rain and wind proof you are, glancing at your cleverly arranged wellington boot dryer, your wet Gortex coat hanging facilities, occasionally getting up just to check an area of weatherproofing- then suddenly thinking 'Hang on, why has my annual holiday once again turned into a survival exercise? Why have I not spent one evening sitting outside with the other family we're supposed to be camping with, glass of vino in hand, watching the DC playing happily in the next field, sun slowly setting over the blue hills of the distance? Why is my contact with them a hurried conversation through 2 marginally opened car windows as we pass on our way out? Why do I slip out of my PJs and into my waterproof suit every morning in order to make breakfast? Could the DSs not be rather more comfortable lying on their beds at home glued to ipods as there's not a vast amount else for them to do? Could this hol be costing me as much as a villa in Mallorca after I've shelled out ££ every day driving to indoor 'attractions' to try and salvage some bonhomie the situation?'....
Or am I a lightweight 