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CampingCamping is something I have always enjoyed. Especially when you rough it up. The whole idea of making a camp sight comfortable is something that I have mixed feelings about. It is one thing to bring along a couple chairs and an umbrella, that is reasonable. But to organise a portable satellite dish is something that I can’t seem to wrap my head around. Making a plan Bear Grylls style is what makes camping fun. 

Trace, Basia (Trace’s good friend that studies in Poland and legend 5000) and myself decided to make an unplanned camping mission up the West Coast over the weekend. Friday, just after work, we packed everything we could think of (which turned out to be a hopeless amount of nothing) and hopped in the car rearing with the excitement of the unknown. We did, however, get some essentials right. We brought a wine opener (and wine), a knife and some Polish Vodka. The non-essentials were left behind; blankets, something to sleep on and warm clothes. This provided a grand series of hilarity. The first night, after managing to put up a tent in the dark with the help of a million neighbouring campers, happened to be quite chilly. The wine only went so far and the fire wood, only a step further. Due to Trace mistaking a bag of pillows for duvets, we had one sleeping bag to cover the three of us and cuddling was tantamount to survival.

The food that night was awesome though. We didn’t have a grill so we had marshmallows for starters and then rusks for mains with a side order of star gazing. The morning came and it was a spectacular day filled with Bear Grylls references and a game aptly named “beach, bat and ball”. As if my reputation was not tainted enough, I managed to break one of the bats. And so ended the game of “beach, bat and ball”.

Once again, our neighbours pulled in to sort out us ‘noob’ campers. One guy offered us an umbrella and we scored some watermelon and mutton potjie from the guys across from us. More firewood was scavenged (from the 7/11 down the road of course) and Trace’s friend, Daniel, pulled in to save the day with blankets and ice. By the time the afternoon came, we were camping 5000. Set up like a pimp’s house from MTV Cribs.

The last night was destined to be infinitely more comfortable than the first. We had an actual blanket to cover us, a blow up bed and good company. However, an unexpected guest that Trace did not take a liking to, joined us. The McCRACKEN returned. That, for those of you that are fortunate enough to be unfamiliar with the McCRACKEN, this entity comes out after a couple of drinks and me closing my eyes. Snoring, at its worst. Luckily for me, Basia took the brunt of Trace’s desperate attempts to beat me to death in the middle of the night. She disguised her pimp hand with a soft and innocent “uh uhhh” and then unleashed the wrath of hell onto Basia sleeping next to her, assuming it was me. She said, and I quote “It sounded like you were sleeping inside my ear, there is no ways you were not right next to me.”

Other than that, a fantastic time was had by all. New friends were made, old friends were almost obliterated, and everyone had an all round fantastic time. I am relaxed, but only because I think I am the only one that slept the whole weekend. Good Vibes.

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