I shuffled past bottles and old jigsaws to the end of the upstairs storage cupboard. I pulled my best sleeping bag out of it's position for the last 2 years. Behind it my old sleeping bag that I use at a duvet on top of my newest and more comfortable one. My trusty Vango Eos 3 person tent is on the same shelf. Old Vango that rubbed up against New forest ponies. That bore the downdraught of RAF helicopters on the Lizard Peninsular. That suffered broken poles during that terrible storm in Glencoe, but carried on with duct tape for the rest of the holiday.
"Oh brilliant!" it cried. "Another adventure!"
I threw the sleeping bags to the door end of the cupboard.
"Where are we going this time?" it asked.
I sidestepped back along towards the exit.
"I know, I have to go in last so I'm first out" it said.
I pick the bags up and head downstairs to the pile of equipment in the front room next to the new Robens teepee tent.
"I missed you" Said Vango in the darkness.
Okay, okay, very silly, but I do feel kind of guilty and emotional about moving on. A lot of memories get revived every time I camped in that old tent. Time to make some new memories.
Just me?