Told you I am One Who Camps

I'm leaving in just a bit to go camping with some of the YSAs--we're going to the Peak District and will be staying in Castleton, part of the Hope Valley. Let's hope I get to take some pictures as pretty as this one. The forecast keeps arguing about whether or not it will rain, which means that it most likely will. And I don't actually have a rain parka. So, you know, check back in a couple of days to see pictures of me looking like some sort of rain-sodden ferret.

The plan is to camp tonight and then go hiking (English translation: walking) the next day. Finnish Friend is in charge, and he says that the difficulty of walks ranges from 1-5. He has picked a 4 and is very confident that it will be great. My confidence is . . . of a different sort than his. Some might call it pessimism.

Blackjazz was over trying to help with the piece of Satan Spawn that is my computer (I swear the other day as it inexplicably shut down it actually spat at me), and I told him I wasn't too keen on the idea of camping in the rain.

"Oh, camping in the rain's nice, though." I think he says such crazy things because he is English and fond of walking outside. And if one wants to be fond of walking outside in England one must tell oneself that tramping around in the rain is lovely. I guess it can be, too, if you have the right gear and are walking in nice places. My walking-around-in-the-English rain experiences have usually consisted of me hanging on for dear life while climbing slippery cut-out-of-the-mountain steps on the way up to see Tintagel Castle or similar and then nearly getting hypothermia from my wet jeans.

Must go pack though, cross fingers for good weather and that I don't fall into a badger hole or anything!

Posted in: England