I have only ever been camping once and that was on a long weekend to Hemsby (near Great Yarmouth). Me and a mate went as a treat to celebrate my GCSE results (mostly A grades except for geography and IT which were B grades). Even though it was mid-July it was cold and rained most of the time…typical British weather, as the old joke goes “How do you know when it is summer in Britain? The rain gets warmer.”
I remember one funny incident happening during the first evening as we were pitching up the tent. We had managed to secure the first couple of pegs into the ground and were working on the third when suddenly the first peg launched itself from the ground, shot up in the air then plummeted back to Earth smacking itself on the car bonnet and bouncing off. We both stood there in a state of surprised paralysis momentarily before erupting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter as the bizarre event took place.
All in all in was a good few days and as soon as I got back home all I wanted was a good, hot mug of tea to shake off the chill which had set right in and was lying on my bones. Since then I haven’t been camping again, although I would like to do it again at some point.