The Chopsy Baby Holiday Staycation Fiasco
The great UK staycation has been the talk of the summer. The recession has hit family pockets hard. Luxuries such as holidays in hot faraway destinations have been one of the first expenses to be axed. The UK tourism industry was quick to rub its hands in glee when the Met Office predicted a ‘barbecue summer’ and people in their droves pledged to stay loyal to the UK this year. But is a holiday at home really that budget friendly?
It was beautifully warm and sunny at the start of the drive to an exotic Brean location for our first Chopsy Baby staycation camping experience. Typically, as we pulled into the campsite it started to rain. This was no ordinary rain, but the kind of rain that would horrify Moses and later that day was described by weather presenters as ‘severe’.
After we paid up for three days and a pitch was chosen, we fought through Mother Nature’s bad weather to get the tent up. Our tent, which was borrowed from a friend, was designed for three people and we assumed would be big enough for the two adults and one child on the trip. It consisted of an outer fly sheet and inner tent. The problem with this design is that should the inner section touch the fly sheet, even in modern tents, it can still let the rain come in. The soggy ground left desperate tent pegs sliding out, the fly sheet touched the inner layer and we stood helpless as the tent began to fill with an inch of water.
Whilst trying to bail out the water and trying to pump up three air beds by hand, it was quickly realized that a three man tent wasn’t actually big enough for three people anyway.
So, off we drove to Weston-Super-Mare in search of a larger tent. We ended up with a cheap four man tent with a huge porch.
On returning to the campsite, the tent was put up inside, outside and upside down until we managed to fathom out the impossible instructions. The directions were a blend of unintelligible English, arrows and numbers which was disintegrating in the pouring rain. During this time the whole family was soaked to the bone and toads were invading the tent.
By the time the tent was up and the barbecue lit, it was dark, we were wet, the beds were wet, the bedding was wet, this was not fun. Fantasizing about exotic locations, warm sun and dry grass whilst sausages were reduced to charcoal, it took three glasses of wine to find the happy thoughts again.
The next day started much more positively. Woken up at six am by an enthusiastic two year old, the sun was shining, the beach was calling and the rest of the camping trip was finally being planned.
Suddenly, everything went quiet. The sky went dark. Then came the wind. Within seconds we were holding on to the tent to stop it from launching into orbit. The cheap tent we had purchased could not cope with the wind, though we noticed other makes of tents seemed hardly bothered in the slightest.
After three hours and with the sound of cracking tent poles, soaked bedding, deflating air beds and sinking hearts, we decided that our first camping staycation had been a disaster. In less than 24 hours, we realized it was time to pack up and go home.