Glamping, short for ‘Glamorous Camping’, two words I’m sure the Oxford dictionary never had any intentions of seeing in the same sentence, let alone side by side, I for one have become really rather addicted to it, and so, more to the point, has my wife. Ok I know roughy-toughy soldiers do not normally do anything that could in anyway be seen as camp, and glamorous camping has got to be camp right? You couldn’t be more wrong, to me Glamping is more akin to a 1920’s safari than ‘Carry on camping’, and quite possibly the cheapest way possible to recharge the batteries in both style and luxury. Glamping has been around for quite sometime now and there have been thousands of words written on the subject, loads of books, magazine articles, and websites, and so I don’t propose to repeat what others have said, rather I’d like to give my slant on it, why I became addicted, and where I see us going next with it.
In early 2011 we came back from a break in Canada seeing great friends of ours, Shaun and Kara, we came back stimulated and heads full of ideas. Canada is a wonderful country and to be perfectly honest part of the reason we went was to see if we, like our friends, would also fall for it’s charms and pick up sticks. Well that didn’t really happen, yes we had a fantastic time, the people are wonderful, the scenes breathtaking, but no it’s not really a place I see myself moving to full time. But saying that we both felt that there are a great many things that we can learn from the Canadians, and one of those is the way in which they know how to relax by taking short breaks through out the year. It seems that all over the country almost every drive has an RV (read bloody great motor home) or some form of pick up truck with a removable camper element. Now many will say hang on Brent our roads are just not made for those great whales on wheels, or Christ how much do they cost, or it’s OK for them they have 1000’s of square miles of virgin land to explore, all of which I agree with, well almost all. But you’d be missing the point if you just thought along those lines, no what I’m on about is that we also have 1000’s of square miles of countryside that most of us never explore, and then there is the whole idea of getting away from everyday life as often as possible. Great, so how do we do that without breaking the bank?
"Glamping is more akin to a 1920’s safari than Carry on camping"
Our first trip away really can’t be called an unmitigated success on the cost front at least. We drove up to North Devon and spent a couple of nights in a B&B, had two meals out, bought lunch out, had drinks in pubs, coffee shops… Christ did our bank account take a hammering! No staying in B&B’s really wasn’t going to work, there had to be a better way. Well I started to look at the problem, looked at VW camper vans, cost a fortune and breakdown every trip, caravans, Christ No! This was going to have to call for an idea out of left field, and indeed out of left field it came, I thought I’d arrived at the perfect solution, only problem left was trying to get Barbara to buy in to it, and that wasn’t going to be easy, not after our one and only attempt at camping years before.
“Love I think I have it, it’s called Glamping”
“Glamping, sounds like camping, please tell me it doesn’t involve tents!”
“Well yes tent’s are indeed involved…”
“No, no, no, not after last time, 2 days stuck in an oversized bin bag, it rained 24 hours a day, us 2 dogs and the kids, I bloody froze, the tent leaked, the sleeping bags got wet through, the blow up bed was like trying to sleep on a bouncy castle, back ache because you couldn’t stand upright, and the tent rattled so much in the wind that I never got any sleep. In fact I came back more in need of a break than before we went, love please don’t me make do that again, please…”
All perfectly good reasons why camping should be left to the young who at festivals are too stoned to worry about, or feel, discomfort, but I wasn’t talking about camping, I was talking about glamping, a whole different ball game, I clicked the mouse and a slide show of pictures sourced from websites across the net begins.
“Oh, is that...”
“Yes love that is a double futon, and no you won’t get cold because I want to get a wood burning stove like this one…”
I flick forward through a few pictures and slowly but surely she really starts to see what I was seeing, Success!
Step one you get a large canvas tent, in our case a 4m wide bell tent, next you chose your theme and decorate said tent to the max, lastly you seek out ‘tiny’ off the beaten track camp sites to totally chill. Whilst I stuck to the practical bits, Barbara threw herself into the interior design ‘Hemmingway’ style, I was dragged around Exeter looking for all manner of stuff, futons, loads and loads of cushions, ornate lanterns of all sizes, rugs etc. A coffee table bargain from Habitat’s closing down sale, fold up chairs and loads of whicker trunks from junk shops. All of course in the right colour scheme, we even had to buy new bedding because, I quote, “it’ll feel more like a holiday if it’s different than at home”. And as I say the practical side was left to me, a simply amazing wood-burning stove designed for tents that folds up found on EBay, cool boxes and larder made from 2 of the whicker boxes and a small heat shield that doubles up as a wall for the kitchen area. Outside another large canvas awning, wind brake, wooden garden table, chairs and a small bucket bar-b-q from Tesco complete the experience. Don’t get any ideas about going backpacking with this, but we happily pack this lot into her Mercedes go-kart with room to spare.
And then there is the choice of campsites, now this is where you really need to do your research, get this one wrong and it’ll feel like you spent the weekend camping in the middle of northern hemispheres largest Penguin colony. What ever you do avoid large campsites, and any that encourage caravans, we made that mistake once and I was bombarded by one middle aged caravaner after another, all wondering where the electrical hook up went, or worse spending hours telling us about this must see bloody church in Dartmoor, no trust me avoid the caravan crowd, I have nothing against them I promise, I just don’t want to spend my weekends having to make polite conversation with them. And why I say avoid large campsites, because they’re invariably packed to the rafters and full of screaming kids. I don’t me the pint sized lot either, no I mean the pubescent lot who all turn up in their whatsit-3i’s mob handed and take over the site, loud music till at least 3am and 9 times out of ten drunken screaming matches till 4am. No the best sites are as I say those a little off the beaten track, a famers field open to just half a dozen during the summer, or those that run policies on no music after 9pm, no groups and no bloody caravans.
Brent just chilling in Looe
Mind you even the best-laid plans can, and do, go astray sometimes. One of the best looking campsites from Cool Camping was down in Croyed, a real surfers paradise, miles of beautiful sand dunes leading to a vast beach with rollers crashing in from the Atlantic swells. So after booking a slot off we trot down in the go-kart, arriving we’re already pleased, pretty village, a couple of pubs with real old word charm.
“there’s the sign love, first left here, and there’s the entrance, great not 50m from the…oh…”
Yes it’s the same field as in the book all right, only they must have taken that picture out of season because instead of 5 or 6 tents with ample room we’re greeted with a field grid marked in white paint, a green car park, and every slot is full. We walk into the reception, a cheap and nasty little B&Q shed, manned, by a slip of a girl, all Jack Wills, flip-flops and friendship bracelets, blonde streaked hair off in all directions.
“Eh, name of Meheux, for 2 nights, um, how wide are your pitches, you see our tents 4m wide without the guy ropes, I did say on the phone when I booked”
“Oh, yes here it is, says you have a ‘bell tent’, cool!”
“Eh, yes…’cool’…”
She bounces through the door and after 15 minutes of jiggery-pokery we manage to navigate our way to what looks like the last spot in the far corner, I now know what the Penguin feels like. Barbara gets out and her face says it all, I follow her gaze as she looks out across the field, 100’s of young surfer types, tiny backpacking tents, boards pitched against old cars, wetsuits flapping in the gentle breeze, her gaze rests back on me.
“And what do you find so bloody funny?” she asks
“Well for once it’s me with the Aston-Martin”
“The what?”
“Oh you know what I mean, there’s always someone in the pub car park with the fancy, or bigger car, well for once it’s me” She’s starting at our little Mercedes go-kart more than a little confused.
“No love, what I mean is whilst they’re in their oversized crisp packets tonight we have real luxury”
And still smiling I begin to unload, half an hour or so later over swaggers a couple of giggling surfer dudes, long bleached locks, tanned six packs and impossibly loud shorts.
“Mate, nice tent, you got satellite for that?”
sniggers the first
“Yeah mate, what’s with the wood burner, can’t you do without your home comforts?”
pipes in the second
At this point all three of us turn to see a small head poke through the flap.
“Run along now boys you’re standing where the garden furniture’s going”
After dinner we wander down to the pub, low beams, real ale and packed with what seems like half of Cornwall’s surfing population, squeezing through to the bar I find myself standing next to our two surfer dudes from earlier, before we know it we’re chatting away. They’re just down from London for the weekend, back in England saving like mad for the next trip, it seems like they’ve never spent more than a few months back home in the last 5 years. In no time at all we’re busy chatting away to anyone and everyone, all have fascinating stories, all share the same wanderlust. As we amble back to the tent content and heads full of far away places I’m amazed how peaceful it is, all that can be heard is quiet chatter, people around fires, just sharing a last beer.
Botelet Farm, Cornwall - a review
Without a doubt one of the best little gems of a campsite we have as yet found in the West-country is Botelet Fatrm, again from the Cool Camping book, this campsite is on a working farm not far from the tourist attraction of Looe in Cornwall (about 8 miles inland), down, down through narrow country lanes you drive until you come upon a small gap in the dry stone wall, all that greets you is a simple hand painted sign, but on turning into their farm yard you’re instantly taken back a century or two. The farm, although fully working, is without the clutter and scrapheap junk of most, all the buildings and barns lovingly looked after by generations of the same family. Chickens run free pecking and scratching around your feet, add the bright red phone box in the yard between the two main houses and it has the air of a small rustic village rather than a farm. Here they only allow 2 tents at a time, and the where depends on which field is being worked when you turn up, every time we’ve stayed we’ve always been at least 200m from the one other couple. Facilities are by large sites standards basic, but don’t get put off by that remark, there is a piping hot shower and toilet, both always spotless, coming back from the shower will take you past the vintage showman’s caravan they rent out, or walking through another gate you find yourself looking up to one of 2 Yurts you can also rent. Wherever you choose to pitch you’re always sure to have remarkable views down through the valley, quiet, well run and truly relaxing, perfect!
To me glamping is about opening a bottle of wine as you arrive, before putting the tent and everything up, which only takes about a half an hour, Barbara then relaxes by spending the next hour titivating, glass in hand, moving a lantern a half inch this way or that. I’ll wonder off to check out the lie of the land as it were, where the toilet, shower etc. are, by then we’ve moved into full chill mode. I’ve always brought the basics food wise, and have normally got the first nights meal fully sorted, and no not bacon butties, or tined Irish stew, I learned that lesson off the French last summer.No I’ll always make the effort food wise, all I’ve got to remember is that everything must be cooked on the two hobs or the bar-b-q, mind you I have future plans for using the wood burner as an oven, but that’s for next year. After a long meal we may chat for a while around the bar-b-q for warmth, or inside with the wood burner going on cooler evenings, all by the light of candles. I always drop off early, snuggled up on the futon under a warm duvet head on real pillows. We’ve got this sort of unspoken rule that Barbara makes the first cup of tea in the morning, and the gentle whistling of the kettle has become my alarm clock. Days are spent reading, taking photos or a little sketching, with maybe a trip to the local village for fresh supplies and a coffee or two. We may take a stroll or just spend our time lazing around, just slowing down in new environments, your eyes taking in new sights, all helps to totally recharge my batteries, perfect.
And so what about the costs, I mean is anything really cheap these days? Well camping in general has seen a massive rise in interest over the last few years; due I’m sure to the rises in living costs we’ve all witnessed, but thankfully site charges have largely remained low, the average cost being around £15 per pitch per night, with many of the larger sites charging a little extra for electrical hook up. Food wise as I say we tend to cook the vast majority ourselves, but on occasion we do enjoy the odd meal out, or a pint at a small village inn, so again really low costs. And then there’s the tent, well Barbara and I set ourselves a budget of £1000 all in, a lot more than most would want, or need, to spend, but we were determined to make sure we had everything we needed, that we were warm and most of all comfortable enough to want to do it again and again. The average cost for a good quality bell tent these days seems to be about £400 to £500, and by using as much as possible from home you could indeed drop the costs. Now we all know you can pop into Halfords to pick up a cheap family camping deal for around £200, tent, 4 sleeping bags, roll mats etc. but I wouldn’t, not if you want to ever go more than once.
People jump into camping without any idea as to what it’s really like sleeping in a plastic tent on the hard ground, trust me I do it, and worse, for a living. First lets look at trying to sleep, the human body has a narrow band where we are comfortable enough to sleep, a few degrees below and all you’ll do is body-pop all night trying to warm up. The roll mat you bought is just designed to act as a thermal barrier, it’ll offer no protection against the hard ground, and unless you’ve brought a pillow you’ll just end up with neck ache. Cheap tents are cheap for a reason, in any wind what so ever they make so much noise even if you were warm you’d not be able to sleep, touch the sides when it’s raining and the water will come flowing in, trust me in a tiny tent it’s almost impossible not to. So do I have any advice, well I suppose you could take a leaf or two off the Army. A squaddie will always wear all his clothes in this sleeping bag, a bag that is good down to minus 30. He’ll always wear a woolly hat as he knows that this is where the majority of his body heat is lost, looking for a dip in the ground to place his roll mat, taking time to stamp down any roots, and at one end will go his rucksack to rest his head, this sound like fun to you? Or you could just go the glamping way, a sturdy canvas tent that doesn’t rattle and keeps the warmth in, is large enough to have a separate sitting, sleeping and cooking area. Sleep in a real bed on cotton sheets under a real duvet with as few clothes as you want. Well it’s your choice I suppose, but remember at least I get paid to be uncomfortable.
Last year we went away every month at least once a month from May through to the end of September, we would have gone in October as well if it hadn’t been for a course I had. We also spent a week in France that cost us less than £300 in total, where we saw first hand what can happen by buying a cheap set up. A young family turned up on the pitch next to us, mum, dad and 3 young boys, all in 2 budget tents. Well the first night they arrived it poured down, sure enough I could hear the boys complaining about the lack of space in their tent, then that fact that the water was coming in, dad getting angrier by the minute, by morning all 5 of them were crashed in their car, one tent flattened in a soggy heap, the other barely standing. In the bar later I caught the dad, they were on their way back home swearing never to try camping ever again. As I say yes we paid a lot to start with, but now we pay peanuts to go away, and are comfortable enough to want to keep going.
Glamping & Food, the perfect match
Now there is no getting away from it I enjoy my food, and when I’m away I see no reason what so ever to suddenly eat out of tins. Yes it takes a little thought, but trust me go over the top food wise and you’re really starting to get into the right glamping mindset. I really learned this lesson from the French, last year we decided to pop over for a last minute holiday, got the cheapest tickets possible on the ferry from Dover, found a really pretty little campsite about an hour and a half drive from Calais and chilled. The site’s run by a lovely French couple and predominantly used by French families, with just a sprinkling of English using it for a stop over on their travels. The first night we decided to try the tiny bar for a pre dinner drink, I hadn’t gone 2 steps and I was hit by the most fantastic smells coming from the bar-b-q’s that all the French had set up, fathers busy turning skewers and chops, wine in hand, mothers setting up tables and chopping fresh salad; the kids all running around in one large mob, enjoying the early evening. On the way back we passed table after table laden with freshly prepared food, people animated and happy. Long into the evening they all continued, after the last of the children were put to bed adults still quietly sat, shot the breeze and enjoyed a little liqueur; and I was hooked. The very next morning I strolled down to the village, bought fresh vegetables and salad, meat and bread was bought daily, all tins were thrown into the recycling bin, and I haven’t looked back since. Glamping isn’t just about tarting up a tent, it’s about the whole experience to me, and that means good food that you buy fresh and take your time to eat.
So what does the future hold for us Glamping wise?
So what does the future hold glamping wise? Well for one thing I’m rather keen to include ‘Monty’, my old 1957 MGA, in our adventures, but as the wife has rather obviously pointed out I’d never get all the kit packed on ‘Monty’s’ boot rack. So I’ve been busy researching trailers for MGA’s, a few simple searches on the web and I was amazed at how many people out there share my vision. At the moment we are still very much at the design stage, but who knows this may well progress quicker than you, or I, think. All I need are a couple of old MGA rear wings and period stamped wheels, the rest I can make or buy, as the sketches progress I’m leaning very much towards the ‘woody’ look at the moment, but who knows where it’ll lead.
And then there’s the kitchen area, now I have some real plans here based on a couple of interesting ideas again found on the web. In North America for years they’ve been using something called a ‘chuck box’, a really a simple form of homemade outdoor kitchen that folds back in on it’s self for transport. Loads of plans and instructions exist on the net, particularly from scouting groups, a few home tools and you’re away. And then there’s the SWISS BOX an amazing system from Switzerland that really has had a lot of thought thrown into it, a far more modern design that makes use of clever engineering to pack an amazing amount into a tiny space. My idea is to take the best from each and then build a more ‘rustic’ version based on a large whicker basket I’ve put to one side for the project, and of course I’ll post it’s progress on here.
Latest design - December 2011
The trip to France last summer was really an experiment to see what it would be like for more that a long weekend, and as it went so well we’re planning trips much further afield for the coming years, South of France has got to be done. And then I’ve a desire to take a road trip down through Italy in ‘Monty’, although Barbara has been good enough to say that I can take a mate for that one, don’t get any ideas though as it’s not the camping she’s worried about, rather my driving a 1957 MGA with old drum brakes through those Alpine passes. And then there’s the idea of buying a small building plot in France, with land over there as cheap as it is at the moment you can buy a plot of woodland next to a stream for as little as £5000. We have neither the money or the plans to build a home as yet, but it would be perfect for spending lazy summers with the tent, mind you the cats would have to come to, now that could be interesting.
Posted by Brent Meheux - 28/12/11 - Tags - glamping, camping
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