Camping again, only this time it's in the summer holidays. We thought we'd given up rubbing shoulders with the family crowds now that we're retired, but a slot came up at our favourite campground and it was too good to turn down. I thought that we might be the only seniors around but no, the place is full of them, and not all are accompanied by grandchildren either. It seems odd that when you have quiet campgrounds in May and June, and again in September and October, that any retirees would opt to camp when the younger families are scrabbling for sites; it seems almost unfair. It's not unlike seeing all the old geezers grocery shopping on a Saturday when they, we, have had all week to do it. I don't know, maybe Ontario Parks should drop the Senior's discount for July and August to give the young 'uns a chance? Anyway, we're here, we're seniors, and it's very warm.
This past week we'd treated Towed Haul to a clean up inside and out, and she was gleaming. Or rather I thought she was gleaming. Being a total cheapskate, I'd used a pretend Chamois leather to wipe the water droplets off the skin of the trailer and it left horrible smear marks all over, which serves me right for being cheap. Not in my control, though, were the lovely birds that had crapped on the back of the camper; c'est la vie I guess.
Prepping to leave on Monday, we had set a departure time, but that disappeared into the Coleslaw Vortex. As I'm sure you know, the Coleslaw Vortex is when your thrifty wife decides to use up some veggies that are laying around to make a Coleslaw, when you should have been hitching up. Frugality is important, and leaving on time for a short run to Rondeau really isn't, so I'm not complaining, and we were only thirty-five minutes off schedule. These things happen.
At Rondeau, we hit a line of other trailers at the water fill station. It's not the best idea to travel with a full freshwater tank, not least because even with our little camper, that near-fifty gallons of water weighs quite a lot. So most people will travel dry, or almost dry, and fill up at the campground, at least at Provincial Parks that don't have a water supply on the sites themselves. There were two trailers ahead of us at the single water point, and it turned out that the one filling had only just started. We waited, with the car engine running to keep its A/C going in the heat, and we waited. While the first one was filling, another trailer not in the line pulled up on the opposite side of the water point and started to unfurl a hose. There is indeed a tap at the base of the water point, and he connected his hose to that while the first fellow was still filling and started to fill his own tank. While I applaud his ingenuity, he had both jumped the line up, and made a very slow water point run at half-speed for the guy still filling from the proper water point. That's not really cricket, is it? Still, there was nothing we could do. While we waited for the person in front of us to fill, I emptied the black and grey water tanks of the residue from last week's cleaning efforts, and we continued to wait. Goodness, that trailer must have had a massive water tank because it took absolutely ages to fill. All in all we waited a good forty minutes before we could fill, and by that point I'm thinking that one watering point really isn't sufficient.
There was a reason for my growing anxiety, and that was the fact that Emma and Charlie were due on site, and we had effectively lost our whole time buffer. Trying to set up while Charlie "helps" isn't easy, particularly in the heat, so we were rushing around and getting ever more flustered trying to beat their arrival. Sadly, we didn't quite make it. Curses!
Charlie wants everything at once, of course, so we had to finish setting up with the whirlwind around us. We did manage to get him away with his mother for a while, which enabled me to finish up, but on their return, things were back into rushing mode.
We had promised Charlie a fire and roasted marshmallows, so in the heat of the afternoon, he and I built up a kindling tower in the fire pit, set it ablaze and stacked some logs on top as the flames built up. It was a good fire, even if I do say so myself, but in the very hot sun it all seemed a bit unnecessary. DW had prepared some baking potatoes, in three layers of tin foil, so I positioned those at the base of the fire, while Emma and Charlie did their marshmallow thing.
Now here's a Canadian thing I don't fully understand, S'mores. S'mores are sweet campfire treats that people go nuts for, but I just don't get. Take a Graham Cracker, put a square of milk chocolate on it, stand a freshly roasted marshmallow on the chocolate, then cover with another Graham Cracker. Squeeze the whole contraption together and eat it. The cracker crumbles, the melting chocolate goes everywhere, while your hands and mouth are covered in the sticky and crumby goo. Emma loves them, Charlie thinks he does, DW spills their contents all down her front and I look on uncomprehendingly. As I said, I don't really get it.
The upside of the fire, though, was three perfectly cooked baked potatoes. If you plan to cook in a fire, though, make sure you double or triple wrap the potatoes in tin foil, and turn them regularly. Oh, and a perfectly set fire helps as well - all that training with the Scouts wasn't wasted.
Once our visitors had departed, things settled down. We tidied the site up a bit, put a few things away, poured some drinks and retired to the bug tent for the evening. I'd strung some coloured lights up in there and it was quite jolly watching the light fade and listening to the campground quietening down. Despite the number of people here, by nine it was pretty quiet and while we couldn't see them, the Raccoons were abroad, if the noises outside were anything to go by. I hadn't intended to have an early night, but I was in bed by eleven, which is early for me, and in the Land of Nod almost immediately.
Tuesday is going to be a bit of an odd day, but with fine weather forecast, I'm sure we'll make the most of it.
