The camping trial – Newquay, Cornwall

Really, really tried to wake up at 6am. Managed 4 1/2 hours sleep which is pretty good considering we were at a Kiss concert last night. I had 5 alarms on which bloody hurt my hungover head and I gave it my best shot at snoozing and ignoring them, hoping it was a different day. Once I did get up to try and get out some of this alcohol poop that’s still lurking inside of myself I couldn’t straighten my legs and had a small freak out. Too much exercise and standing I suppose, and I recon I slept in the fetal position all night after hearing the devils music.

My brother made a funny comment that Kiss was a sign of the devil back in the day, less so than other music about, it was still glam rock, but you know what I mean. They dress up, act scary, then play a bop that’s harmless that everyone sings along to. I compared them to the Spice Girls actually, they wear the same footwear at least. There was a really dramatic bass solo by Gene Simmons. He looked up to the heavens as blood began to drip from his mouth, then back down at hell as he strummed his bass guitar, the blood pouring out of his mouth and off his extended tongue. To finish he breathed fire. I know right.. Then straight into another one of their innocent songs while everyone raised their hands in the devil sign. I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day. It was funny from an outside prospective, I really enjoyed it.

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Oh lovely, James got me a coffee from the petrol station. So we actually left at 7:46 after packing those last few bits that are easy to pack so you wait till the morning – rather than being sensible and do it in advance so you can leave on time. Travel pills taken, travel bands on, burnt marmite toast eaten, sunglasses on and we were out of the door. Then back in because we forgot pillows. And again for the water. Then the tea and coffee. We really aren’t organised humans.

4+ hours of driving on 4 1/2 hours of sleep.

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My past experiences of camping are the duke of Edinburgh award, caravan holidays with my best friend and festivals. All enjoyable and successful? Yeah, both. When it came to putting up this tent though, well let’s just say we got there in the end. I wanted to document it and also our first meal but you actually have to continuously do stuff. Surprise, surprise. I remember the part of doing the tent as soon as you get to your destination, check! I remember getting stuff done before you relax, check! I don’t remember my legs hurting this much but that’s unrelated (even though you’d expect that on DofE but I was a youthful 14 year old at the time). I don’t remember being this tired but again probably unrelated because the lack of sleep. Also don’t remember it being this confusing on how to get water. I walked around the toilet block twice before I decided to use one of the 5 taps. I styled it out by going to the bathroom and just looked like I was curious about this campsite – like all the campsites I’ve been to were completely different, like I was a pro just taking my time. James said he would have just used the first one he came across. I overthink.

I don’t know why I do stuff like that to fit in. It’s okay to be a beginner. It’s good actually, that’s where everyone starts and sometimes it’s even more enjoyable.

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I think our backgrounds of festivals make us paranoid about our belongings. We decided to leave certain things in the car and that wasn’t even my decision. Miss Overly-Cautious-But-Then-Still-Doolally-And-Unorganised over here, no it was James, Mr-Everything’s-Fine-Everything’s-Okay. Here we are putting our 3 burner stove into that back of the car and everyone else here leaves everything out as they go off and enjoy their lives. They could be local I suppose and we are Londonised.

We haven’t ventured out yet but you know it’s Newquay when the couple next to you, both with long, messy hair, hang their towels and wet suits on the car to dry. Like I’ve said before; stereotypes are real. The couple on the other side, with their child, are the same too. The mans long hair pulled back in a bun and the woman wearing a Kevin and Perry sun hat. It’s not called a Kevin and Perry hat but when your eyes are burnt with an image you just can’t unrelated to that. It’s not khaki and she’s not moaning and trying to act cool, don’t worry – it’s white with flowers on. Of course. All I wanna do is do it. Then there’s me sitting in the car with my feet on the dashboard (only originally to come searching for my notebook) drinking gin and tonic, hair hardly in a bun anymore and grass covering my leggings. Listening to the sounds of wildlife as some ducks waddle past me and James’s snores coming from the tent. Yep, camping is good.

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My G&T is gone, I need a wee and it’s four o’clock now, we better go have a little explore. I have a date planned for James tonight, which I decided in January actually but haven’t gotten round to doing it. For this date I needed a seaside town. As we are randomly here after booking it on Friday we may as well go and do it. Ready? It’s simply to go to an arcade with £40. The dream. Those penny machines won’t know what’s hit them. Fuck the adult ones at the back, who actually uses them when you can watch your 2ps drop down and if you’re really lucky win a minion keyring? I still have mine attached to my keys from Broadstairs in September. James still has Masha and the Bear attached to his backpack.

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I’ve been feeling antsy since we came back from our road trip at the beginning of May. I want to live that lifestyle, you don’t get it where I’m from. It’s similar to the feeling of being in a seaside town. Active, grounded, everyday things feel more special and exciting. I’m not sure how to word it, nor word what I’m thinking but it was so refreshing and liberating to be back out there. I haven’t got the money to travel, it requires a lot of hard work and saving – as it should be, earn it. Meanwhile camping is perfect, I’ve decided. £13 a night at this campsite. I wrote a whole lot of drunk scribbles in my travel diary about how cheap 13 quid a night really is – when if you pee in public it can be 50p. You get the idea, also get why I didn’t add those notes even though it felt like a revelation while I thought them on the toilet.

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